Chapter Twelve
Percy
The pain wasn’t too bad. It forced its way across his abdomen and hips, and his lower back ached horribly, but it wasn’t too much to bear.
The shock on Edward’s face was scary, though. “Edward!”
Edward jerked, and came back to himself. One arm went around Percy under his arms, and Edward picked him up and lifted him from the stall, and the unfortunate puddle he left when his body decided to flush his rectum in preparation for birth. It had been startling, and uncomfortable, but the rapid displacement of waste from his rectum and the clear, clean fluid that followed in the second wave told Percy that these were no false contractions—he was in labor.
Edward let him lean against the sink, arm still holding him upright, and with his free hand his prince pulled out his cell and dialed.
“Answer, c’mon, answer dammit…” Edward muttered, and Percy could hear it ring and ring. It clicked over to voicemail, and Edward growled in frustration but left a message. “Percy is in labor. Get back here, and now!”
Pain made Percy gasp, grasping at Edward. He felt lightheaded, and his wavered on his feet. “Percy!”
Edward picked him up in his arms, and Percy moaned, feeling nauseous. “I don’t like this so much, Edward.”
“Me neither. Let’s get you in bed, okay?” Edward said, walking them out of the bathroom and down the hall.
Edward’s long strides carried them past the room they were just in, and Lord Lucius saw them as they passed. “Prince Edward!”
“No time, Lucius!” Edward called over his shoulder. The noble appeared in the door behind them, and followed at a fast walk.
Another contraction was coming. It built, tightening, moving his insides around, and the baby woke in a flurry of movement. “Oh! She doesn’t like it much either.”
Edward took the stairs, the stone steps echoing as Edward climbed, sure-footed despite the panic Percy could see hovering in his eyes. “She, huh? So you agree with Mason?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Percy said, gasping as his body tried to twist itself out of Edward’s arms. Edward tightened his grip, making the second floor and walking them down the hall to their room. Lord Lucius had caught up, and was on his cell, presumably talking to his few, actual servants. Lord Lucius had a housekeeper, a small army of maids, a single stable master after the unfortunate removal of the first one, and a dozen trained and lethal guards, and not counting the small harem of pleasure slaves he kept.
“I like the idea of a little girl,” Percy said, one hand on his abdomen. The muscles under his hand were rippling, in a wholly unconscious manner that left him disturbed and excited. His body was moving ahead with the birth regardless of whether or not Percy was ready. That thought scared him and reassured him simultaneously.
“A healthy baby and a healthy consort are all I want right now,” Edward said, sweeping into their room and heading for the king-sized bed.
A burst of activity behind them made Percy look up, and a handful of maids came in the room, carrying fresh linens and blankets. Edward stepped back as they remade the bed, pulling back the blankets and piling pillows high. Edward laid him down, sitting up, and removed the soaked robe from his shoulders. Percy grimaced, and he realized another small flood of fluid had dampened the fabric. Edward saw his problem, and sat on the side of the bed, a clean washcloth in his hand. Percy suffered through his mate cleaning him, and his face burned.
Edward pulled a sheet high over his belly, and Percy clutched it, glad to be hidden from the curious eyes of the maids. Edward waved a hand, and they fled just as fast as they appeared.
“How are you feeling?” Edward asked him, rubbing a hand over his belly.
“The contractions are far apart, and don’t hurt too badly,” Percy said, even as he could feel his belly tighten for another round. “I need a towel under me, Edward, please.”
Edward was quick to comply, slipping a thick, fluffy towel under his ass. Percy shifted, and he found himself wishing he could stand. This was too stifling, laying back. “What do you need, Percy?”
“I want to…help me up,” Percy sobbed, sweating, a contraction tackling him. He cried out, gasping for air, the immense tightening of muscles in his core startling and inescapable. “Edward, this is going to be fast and I don’t know what I’m doing!”
Percy rolled to his side, and Edward was there, helping him to his knees. Percy knelt on the bed, knees wide, the towel under him. Fluid dripped in an increasing stream from his ass, and he could feel himself opening, stretching. “Edward!”
A contraction made him arch his back, screaming. He had no strength in his legs, and Edward tried to pull him flat to his back. Percy fought him, and Edward relented, helping Percy stay up on his knees on the bed. For some reason his body wanted to be upright. He wasn’t going to be birthing this babe flat on his back like a female breeder. The sheet pooled on the bed, and Percy was left naked and bare, but his body’s single-minded determination to give birth made him forget about being embarrassed.
“Percy? Dear God, Mason and Reynard need to hurry up!”
“I need you to…Edward, you’re going to be delivering our baby.” Percy was breathing through the waves of pain, slumping as the contraction eased its grip on his body. “They aren’t going to make it.”
“I tried calling them as well,” Lord Lucius said, standing politely in the doorway, the usually reserved and sarcastic noble appearing hesitant, nervous. “I got no reply. Should I call for my doctor, Prince Edward?”
“Percy? Up to you. I’ve delivered horses before, but I have no idea how to deliver a human baby. I’m sure the mechanics are similar…” Edward asked him, as Percy held on to Edward, his prince holding him upright.
Another wave was coming. Hot fluid poured from his ass. It was thick, so it wasn’t blood, and Percy’s eyes went wide as he felt his insides opening, dilating. It was extremely disturbing and enlightening. His body was moving ahead with the birth, and Percy’s nerves be damned. Percy clawed at Edward’s arms, lifting himself up higher on his knees, the inside of his thighs soaking wet.
Edward was saying something to Lord Lucius, but Percy was past hearing anything but his body’s demands. Soon. So very soon, he would be holding his babe.
Percy’s eyes shut against a strong wave of pain, and he cried out, jaw aching from clenching his teeth. The wave came and crested, holding for heartbeats, then eased. Percy tried pushing with it, but nothing happened. Too soon to push yet, and he relaxed.
He opened his eyes, just in time for the lights to go out.
Glass shattered nearby, and Edward went still beside him.
“What the devil is going on…?” Lord Lucius said at the doorway, and Percy watched as the noble turned to the hall. There was still enough light in the deepening twilight to see, the moon rising, its glow dim but filling the hall.
A shadow coalesced in the deeper darkness of the hall, solid black and tall. Percy cried out in alarm as the shadow moved, and Lord Lucius fell to the floor. “Edward!”
***
Edward
His heart stopped when the lights went out. Before he even heard the glass shatter down the hall, he knew.
His father had found them, and they were out of time.
Lucius fell, crumpled to the floor. Edward threw himself in front of Percy as the shadow at the door raised an arm, the gun firing. Flashes from the muzzle illuminated a man covered in black from head to toes, a semi-automatic weapon aimed right for him.
The nanosecond it took him to understand the gun was aimed at him, and not Percy, was all it took for Percy to see the same. His mate screamed, and lurched to the side, pushing Edward back. The gun fired, three shots, the whole of the world slowed in a horrible tableau. The bullets ripped through the air between them, and Edward’s heart stopped when he saw Percy jerk.
A swath of red bloomed in his side, and Percy stared up at him, ice-blue eyes wide in fear and pain. Edward caught Percy as he toppled to the bed, laying him on his side. Movement in the doorway made him look, and the gunman walked in the room, stepping over Lucius where he lay on the floor.
Rage unlike anything he’d ever felt swept over him. Edward screamed, and sprang to his feet. He charged the armed man, who wasn’t expecting it at all by the way he fumbled to aim at Edward. Edward poured his fear and horror into his rush, and he tackled the gunman, crashing them back out into the hall.
They smashed into the far wall, glass breaking, the window behind the gunman shattering, great showering lengths of razor-sharp shards cascading down on top of them. Edward wrapped his hands around the weapon, even as it fired wildly, shooting into the ceiling. Pain exploded along his shoulders and back, and Edward rolled away from the still falling glass.
Screams and shouting filled the hall. The gunman, clothing ripped by glass and covered in blood, roared in anger and towered above Edward, the gun missing but a long shard of glass in his hand. Edward kicked out, and hit the man square in the chest, arm raised to stab him where he lay on the floor. The man flew backward, and Edward scrambled to his feet.
They faced each other in the darkness, the shifting clouds in the sky hiding the rising moon, taking and giving away light as they circled. Edward fell into a defensive crouch, so very glad he had asked Reynard for lessons. He was no expert, and still lost to the captain every time, but by the Saints, he was going to save Percy and their babe if it was the last thing he did.
The man lunged, stabbing ahead with the blade of glass. Edward stepped forward, dodging the blow, and caught the man’s wrist, and brought his other hand down and smacked his opponent’s elbow. A pop, and the glass fell to the floor. The man screamed, but swung again with his other arm. Edward stepped forward again, and sent his knee up, slamming it into the other man’s groin. The man’s blow landed, but Edward was all instinct and thought was gone—he attacked with total purpose, to protect his mate.
Edward kept moving, pushing ahead, fist smashing into the cloth covered face, and he kicked the man backwards with a blow to his stomach. The man stumbled back, arms flailing, and Edward was about to follow when another shadow moved behind his opponent.
An arm snaked around the gunman’s throat, and a vicious boot to the back of his knee took him to the floor. The arm tightened, and there was sickening, wet snap, and the attacker’s body went limp.
Mason let the body drop at his feet. “Hey, Eddie, not bad. Keep your hands up next time.”
***
Percy
“Edward! Edward, no!” Percy screamed, as his mate and the stranger crashed back into the hall. He tried to get up, to follow, but his body refused to cooperate.
Percy fell back to the bed, his side slick with blood, Percy screamed, a contraction ripping through his body, and the wound on his side bloomed in agony. Blood ran from the bullet hole, and Percy slapped a hand over it, his legs pushing him back up to his knees, he was sweating profusely, body wracked by fine tremors, but he had a baby to deliver and he wasn’t going to fail.
The sounds coming in from the hall were horrible. Screams, shouts, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the crashing of glass all made Percy desperate to see what was happening. He grabbed the headboard, and used it to hold himself up as he kept his other hand over the wound in his side. It was high, and near his bottom rib on the left side. It hit the top swell of his baby bump, but Percy could feel the child moving, lower in his womb, and he hoped that if the babe was hit as well, she could make it until he birthed her. She couldn’t be helped until he got her out.
A contraction came again, hitting out of nowhere. His fingers creaked as he clutched the headboard, sweating running down his body, and a gush of fluid was expelled, hot and thick, and the smell of warm flesh and blood was sickening. Whether this was normal or not it didn’t matter—Percy felt blood gush out of the bullet wound, the contraction forcing it to pump under his hand despite the pressure he was applying. His hand slipped, and more blood ran down his side.
It was happening. Even as his head spun, and black pots danced in front of his eyes, Percy could feel his body opening further. He pushed, straining, screaming, as a contraction crested.
***
Edward
He sprinted for the bedroom, Percy’s screams freezing his blood. He ran into the room and jumped over the man on the floor, and dashed to the bed in time to catch Percy as he fell over.
Blood ran down his entire left side. Blood stained the sheets, from the injury and from between his legs. Edward was about to lay him down when a slim hand reached out and stopped him.
“No! The male breeder births upright! Move him out of the blood, and hold him up!” Dr. Rosen told him, her orders clear and to the point. Edward did as she commanded, climbing over the bed, holding Percy up, out of the mess on the sheets. Edward crawled and pulled, and managed to get Percy upright and on his knees. Percy was moaning, eyes fluttering, barely conscious. Dr. Rosen crawled on the bed beside, him, snapping orders as she slapped a bandage over the wound in Percy’s side.
“Get the power back on now—we need light! Someone check the nobleman on the floor, make sure he’s alive. If he’s dead, get him out of the way. If he’s alive do the same, I’ll tend to him after I help Percy. Move it!” Dr. Rosen snapped out, and Mason and Reynard obeyed with alacrity.
Lucius was dragged to the side, but Edward couldn’t tell if he was alive or not. He couldn’t care. Callous, but Percy was waking in his arms. Reynard ran out of the room, as Mason came back from dragging Lucius out into the hall.
“Edward…” Percy sighed, ice-blue eyes wet with tears, sweat beading on his face.
“Little one,” Edward whispered, swallowing. Percy’s body bowed in his arms, and Edward could feel the tremendous effort put forth by each contraction. “Stay strong, stay awake for me.”
Mason was at Edward’s side, staring down at Percy as blood soaked the bandage and the small man gasped in pain. Dr. Rosen was behind Percy, gloves on, and she was checking between his mate’s legs.
“The baby is in the birth canal. I can’t tell if the baby was hit by the bullet, there’s more blood coming out from the uterus than there should be. Was he bleeding before he got shot?” She asked, sitting up, blonde hair mused and her clothes stained by blood.
“No, he wasn’t,” Edward answered, heart sinking. “The fluid was clear, slightly pinkish, and thick. No blood.”
“Okay, that means the uterus was punctured by the bullet. We need to deliver, and now, before he bleeds out.”
“C-Section?” Mason asked, and Edward hoped not. Percy would lose too much blood.
“No, the baby is already presenting, it’s too late. Mason! Get those lights back on. Go help Reynard!” Dr. Rosen ordered, and Mason backed out of the room, face bone white and eyes haunted. Edward nodded to his brother, and Mason left, closing the door behind him.
“Edward, I love you,” Percy sighed, tears running from the corners of his eyes.
“I love you, too. Now stay awake for me.”
“I will. Want to hold my baby,” Percy trembled, and Edward could feel his body gathering for another contraction.
Dr. Rosen slid from the bed and ran to her bag, dropped by the door when she entered. She grabbed her gear, and came back to the bed, opening it and pulling out the contents.
Percy’s contraction bowled through his body like a tidal wave, and his small mate pushed. “Percy, should you be pushing?”
“Yes! Percy, push! You’re minutes away, don’t stop!” Dr. Rosen ordered as she climbed back on the bed. “Prince Edward, hold him high, and don’t let go.”
“I won’t. I’ll never let go,” Edward vowed to Percy, as Dr. Rosen got behind Percy, dragging her gear with her, medical equipment ready. He had no idea what any of that stuff was, and he was too absorbed by the man in his arms to care.
Percy pushed again, the contractions closer, more urgent, and Edward knew it was almost over. Percy was pale, sweating, and his head fell back on his shoulders as he arched into the contraction. Blood dripped down Percy’s side, rivulets staining his hip and thigh.
“Percy, push hard on the next wave! Almost done!” Dr. Rosen ordered, and Percy obeyed, pushing.
Edward waited, as Percy bled all over him and the bed, and their child fought to be born.