Resurrection (21 page)

He reached for an empty glass on the bedside table and before her very eyes proceeded to eject a stream of bright crimson blood into it from the fangs in his jaws. He held the vessel up for her to check.

"See? That would be enough to turn most humans, but I'd need to deliberately place it inside the victim. Just biting isn't enough, it needs that extra bit of effort. So you can see, I hope, humans are rarely turned by accident. When we do it, we mean it."

"I do not wish you to turn me. Promise me that you will not."

"I swear it, though you may change your mind when you start to become old and I remain the fine specimen you see before you."

"I do not believe I would. It is—unnatural."

"At one time I would have agreed with you. I guess my horizons have broadened. Yours will too, and I'm wondering if a decent spanking might help to open your mind a little." He slid his palm down her ribs to her hips, then reached around to land a playful smack on her bottom. "Roll over, Janey."

"Of course, Sir." She managed to put all his bewildering talk of rabbits, vampires and DNA to the back of her mind, a concept to be revisited. For now, more pressing matters beckoned. Jane lay face down and closed her eyes.

Ged lay still, replete. Jane was asleep beside him. Outside the sun shone brightly, the late January sky clear and blue as the clock crept up toward noon. Despite his admonitions that she required plenty of sunlight, Jane often chose to remain awake with him at night and to sleep during the day. His adaptations to his home meant that he could be comfortable at all times. But still, he preferred the darkness.

They had made love, wicked, dirty love that stained the sheets and left him tired and Jane beyond shattered. She had been asleep now for almost four hours and showed no signs of stirring. Ged decided there was no pressing need for either of them to leave the bed. He sighed and rolled over to snuggle up against her back.

And went rigid.

He stopped breathing, his every sense on alert. Listening. Hearing. And he knew he wasn't mistaken.

There it was again. He drank in the sound of Janey's heartbeat, the steady, rhythmic pulse, low, slow, a satisfied human female at rest. And beneath that, faint, so slight he almost missed it, beat another. There was a second heartbeat.

Janey was pregnant.

Ged rolled onto his back again and stared at the ceiling. How was this possible? Vampires were perhaps the most sexually ravenous beings in the universe, but it was all recreational. Even when mating with other vampires, they were sterile. They procreated by turning humans, not by producing young of their own. There was no way he could have impregnated Jane.

Unless...

Ged slipped from the bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen where he fired up his laptop. A quick Google search told him all he needed to know. The heart in a human foetus would start to beat between three and four weeks after conception, though would not be detected by ultrasound until perhaps five or six weeks. Fuck ultrasound, he had vampire hearing and could detect the tiny heartbeat the instant it started. It had started today, at some point in the last four hours while he'd been asleep beside Janey. It had not been there when he went to sleep, he would never have failed to notice it.

So, assuming three and half weeks, that would make the time of conception... a day, possibly two days, before he found her lying beside his lake. She had to have been already pregnant when she slipped out of her time and into his. This child whose tiny heart had just started to beat was his, conceived a cool five hundred and twenty eight years ago.

Holy fucking shit.

*****

"I do not understand. How can you know? It is not possible." She sat up in bed beside him, her hair tousled, her eyes still unfocused from sleep. "I am barren. We know that."

"We don't know anything of the sort. You conceived before. Twice, if I recall."

"And twice my babies died." She turned to him, her expression one of pure anguish. "Ged, I cannot bear for it to happen again. It is just too… too..."

He dragged her into his arms. "I know. I know that. I grieved too, for the lost little ones. " It was true, he had grieved, though he had also taken care not to allow anyone to see the depth of his despair when not one but two babies slipped lifeless from his wife's womb.

"What shall we do? Is this possible? I mean, did you not say that as vampire you are unable to father a child? I swear to you, my lord, I would never... I have not…"

"Christ, I know that. In any case, you've been here just three weeks and it would be too soon. Even my hearing can't detect a heartbeat before it actually happens. I already checked on the internet and we can be fairly certain that this child was conceived three to four weeks ago. You must have been pregnant when you arrived." He cupped her jaw in his hand. "
I
am
the father. I clearly achieved this feat whilst still human.

"How do you know that? I don't understand."

"Trust me, I am right. The next question is, what do we choose to do about it?"

"Do? What
ca
n
we do?"

"Here in the twenty-first century women don’t have to bear children unless they choose to."

"What are you saying? I always wanted a baby. You knew that. It is just… I am so afraid that it will reach three months, maybe four, then be lost like the others were."

"Okay, I understand that. There's no way, after all this time, that we could possibly know why those other babies didn't survive. And there's no guarantee that this one would. But, here's the difference. We can seek the best possible medical advice. Human medicine has advanced a lot. Women rarely die in childbirth any more, and many babies that would have died because they were born too early or with serious problems do survive nowadays. We'll consult the best doctors, get the best possible care for you and our baby. Do you want to give that a go?”

"Could we? Do you really believe it might be possible?"

"I believe it might. No guarantees, but worth a go, surely?"

Jane nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. And as he dipped into her consciousness he detected the first stirrings of hope. That would be good enough, for now.

*****

"You appear to be a perfectly healthy young woman, Mrs. Twyfford, and I can confirm you are approximately four weeks pregnant. I see no obvious cause for concern, but we'll know more when the results of your blood tests are back." Mr. Baring-Jones tugged his stethoscope from around his neck and placed it on the cluttered desk beside the examination couch. "I shall want to see you back here in one week when I'll have those results. In the meantime, I expect you to take the normal precautions."

Ged helped Jane down from the couch. "Do you have anything in particular in mind, Mr. Baring-Jones?" He certainly hoped so. This consultant was allegedly the best man outside of Harley Street, and they had travelled for two hours to reach his private clinic in north Yorkshire. He had agreed to see Jane at short notice and Ged appreciated that, but even so he was costing an arm and a leg. Some punchy advice was the least Ged expected from him.

"The usual diet and exercise, though nothing too strenuous. Avoid alcohol, cigarettes, even prescription drugs. I have a leaflet here." He handed Jane a brightly coloured booklet. She stared at it, then at Ged, her expression bemused.

Ged took the literature from her. "We'll look at that later. So, Doctor, about those previous miscarriages?" He paused to allow his question to penetrate, then delved into the consultant's head to discover what he might not be telling them. There wasn't much, though one possibility seemed to be hovering there. Ged elected not to state it out loud here and now as the consultant had clearly chosen not to mention it, but resolved to find out all he could about a weak cervix as a cause for miscarriage. Apparently this was the doctor's preferred diagnosis based on what they had told him, but he intended to wait a few weeks until he could test properly for it and make a more certain diagnosis.

Very wise, Ged agreed. For a human, this guy seemed to know his stuff.

"Did you say you'd had your rubella vaccine? I can't seem to find any record here?" The consultant peered into his computer screen at the medical records Ged had hastily cobbled together and inserted into the system, in order to avoid unnecessary questions.

"Er, no. No, she hasn't. Is that a problem?"

"Potentially. It's too late now, we can't give it while your wife is already pregnant, but you should take every care to avoid possible infection. Rubella causes serious defects for the developing foetus, especially in the early months."

Ged made a mental note to keep Jane indoors for the duration of her pregnancy if need be. "One week, then."

"Yes. You can make the appointment with my receptionist. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Twyfford." If the elderly medic thought it unusual for a woman to allow her husband to do all the talking for her, he gave no sign of it as he held out his hand to shake Jane's. She responded in a daze, and Ged had to remind her to slip her tights and shoes back on before he ushered her from the consulting room.

And if the receptionist considered it slightly odd for a client to turn up in her shiny, brightly lit concourse in the depths of a British winter wearing wraparound sunglasses, she didn't see fit to remark on it either. Not for the first time, Ged blessed the fact that he had money, enough to purchase any amount of discretion pretty much. And the finest obstetric care in the world. He made their next appointment, then led Jane back out to their car.

"That was horrible. Why did you allow him to touch me like that?" she demanded as they pulled out of the long, graveled drive into the frost-sprinkled countryside.

"It was an internal examination. I know you didn't like it, but it had to be done." He had overcome her natural reluctance with a simple compelling command, delivered direct to her subconscious. Jane had removed her underclothes and clambered up onto the couch, unable to do otherwise while he held control of her conscious functions. She had allowed the doctor to elevate her feet in stirrups, then to insert the speculum. She had glared at him throughout the ordeal, mortified. Here was the reckoning now.

"If you ever, ever do such a thing to me again, I swear I shall… I shall..." She stopped and he heaved a sigh of relief, only to let out a groan when he heard her sobbing. He glanced across. Janey had her face in her hands and was weeping.

Shit.

He pulled over and reached for her. "Christ, baby, I'm sorry. I should have explained, before we went in there..."

He should have, but in all honesty it just never occurred to him. And once in the doctor's consulting room, the last thing he needed was for Janey to start spouting something which might betray her absolute ignorance of modern medicine. He'd acted on instinct, just wanting to get the job done, but he was starting to realise now how profoundly violated she had felt as she lay there, unable to move while the doctor examined her. Jesus, what a twat he could be.

"Forgive me. It won't happen again, I swear." Surely there must be videos he could download, information to help Janey know what to expect from a visit to an obstetrician and enable her to then give her informed consent. She was sensible and pragmatic, and above all she longed for this child to survive. He knew she would do what she had to.

"Just… just you make sure it does not, " she managed, between gulps and sobs. "I shall never trust you again if you force me to do anything against my will. Do you understand me?"

"I do. You have my word." So much for the all-powerful vampire. Still, Janey was a special case.

"You shall have to read the books to me. My lessons have only just begun, and I fear I shall not be able to make any sense of them."

"Yeah, I get that. We'll do it as soon as we get home."

She paused and peered up at him through red-rimmed eyes. "He seemed... kind. The physician."

"Yes. You're happy to see him again then? Next week?"

"Of course. He will help us."

He'd better
. "So, home?"

"Thank you. Yes. Home."

*****

"So, no raw eggs, no liver, no soft cheese. And no horse riding. Cassius will have to do without his morning canters." Ged announced the restrictions following their perusal of the booklet from the clinic as well as a good couple of hours of youtube viewing

Jane nodded, resigned to her fate. "I shall miss that, but I may still take him a treat in the mornings. The woman on the television said not to ride. But she did not say I had to avoid horses altogether."

"True."

"And neither did she say I must not share your bed."

"Also true. Are you tired, Janey?"

"Maybe. A little."

"Come, then. The doctor recommended relaxation and plenty of rest. I can think of several excellent ways to help you to relax."

*****

Their next visit to the clinic in Yorkshire was uneventful. Mr. Baring-Jones reassured them that the blood test results showed nothing untoward, and his examination on this occasion required no more than weighing and checking Jane's blood pressure. Before they set out Jane had assured Ged that she would cooperate with whatever was required, but he was relieved not to be called upon to test that.

His own online investigations into the weak cervix issue had been helpful. He now understood one possible cause for their problems back in the fifteenth century, and most reassuring of all, he knew that there was an effective treatment available to them now. A simple stitch would provide the extra support required, and if that did indeed turn out to be their difficulty the doctor would perform the procedure at about twelve weeks.

He was not surprised when the consultant still made no mention of it. The test couldn't be carried out for a while yet and Mr. Baring-Jones was not a doctor in the habit of arriving at a diagnosis by guesswork. Ged was confident that the doctor would raise the matter when he was sure, but until then everything should proceed without undue concern. The test, if required, would involve another internal examination to inspect and measure Janey's cervix and Ged would ensure she was properly prepared for that.

As they left the clinic for the second time, he was feeling cautiously optimistic. This might just work out okay.

He blessed the enlightened self-interest that had driven him to invest so heavily in human medicine over the last century or so. He was without doubt reaping the benefits now as nothing else could help Janey and their unborn child.