Jennifer Armentrout: Opposition

I didn’t know what level of bad this was, and I was almost afraid to find out. “What’s wrong?”

One shoulder rose, and it looked like it had taken great effort. “You shouldn’t be worried,” she said, voice low as she picked at the hem of a blanket. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll be okay once Dawson comes back.” Her gaze floated off again, and as she dropped the edge of the blanket, she reached down, put her hand over her blanket-covered belly, and said, “We’ll be okay once Dawson comes back.”

“We’ll be . . . ?” I trailed off as my eyes widened. My jaw came unhinged and dropped as I gaped at her.

I stared at where her hand was and watched in dawning horror as she rubbed her belly in slow, steady circles.

Oh no. Oh, hell to the no to the tenth power.

I started forward and then stopped. “Beth, are you . . . are you pregnant?”

She tipped her head back against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. “We should’ve been more careful.”

My legs suddenly felt weak. The sleeping. The exhaustion. All of it made sense. Beth was pregnant, but at first, like a total idiot, I didn’t understand how. Then common sense took over, and I wanted to scream, Where were the condoms? But that was kind of a moot point.

An image appeared in my head of Micah, the little boy who’d helped us escape Daedalus. Micah, the little kid who had snapped necks and destroyed brains with a mere thought.

Holy alien babies, she was carrying one of them? One of those creepy children—creepy, dangerous, and extremely deadly? Granted, Archer and Luc had probably been one of those creepy kids at one time, but nothing about that thought was reassuring, because the newest batch of Origins that Daedalus had whipped up were different than the ones Luc and Archer had popped out of.

And Luc and Archer were still kind of creepy.

“You’re staring at me like you’re upset,” she said softly.

I forced a smile onto my face, knowing it probably looked a little crazy. “No. I’m just surprised.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips. “Yeah, we were, too. This is really bad timing, isn’t it?”

Ha. Understatement of the lifetime.

As I watched her, the smile slowly slipped off her lips. I had no idea what to say to her. Congratulations? That didn’t seem appropriate for some reason, but it also seemed wrong not to say it. Did they even know about the Origins, about all those kids Daedalus had?

And would this baby be like Micah?

God, really? Did we not have enough to worry about right now? My chest tightened, and I thought I might be having a panic attack. “How . . . how far along are you?”

“Three months,” she said, swallowing hard.

I needed to sit down.

Hell, I needed an adult.

Visions of dirty diapers and angry, red little faces danced in my head. Would there be one baby or would there be three? That was something we never thought about when it came to the Origins, but the Luxen always popped out in threes.

Oh, holy llama drama, three babies?

Beth’s gaze met mine again, and something in those eyes caused me to shudder. She leaned forward, her hand stilling over her belly. “They’re not coming back the same, are they?”

“What?”

“Them,” she said. “Dawson and Daemon and Dee. They’re not going to come back the same, are they?”

About thirty minutes later, I walked downstairs in a daze. The guys were where I’d left them, sitting on the couch, watching the news. When I entered the room, Luc glanced at me, and Archer looked like someone had shoved a pole up some very uncomfortable place.

And I knew .

“Both of you knew about Beth?” I wanted to hit them when they stared blankly back at me. “And no one thought to tell me?”

Archer shrugged. “We were hoping it wouldn’t become an issue.”

“Oh my God.” Not become an issue? Like being pregnant with an alien hybrid baby wasn’t a big deal and would just, I don’t know, go away? I dropped into the chair, placing my face in my hands. What next? Seriously. “She’s going to have a baby.”

“That’s usually what happens when you have unprotected sex,” Luc commented. “Glad you two talked, though, because I so did not want to be the bearer of that news.”

“She’s going to have one of those creepy kids,” I went on, smoothing the tips of my fingers over my forehead. “She’s going to have a baby and Dawson is not even here and the whole world is going to fall apart.”

“She’s only three months along.” Archer cleared his throat. “Let’s not panic.”

“Panic?” I whispered. The headache was getting worse. “There are things she needs, like, I don’t know, a doctor to make sure the pregnancy is going all right. She needs prenatal vitamins and food and probably saltine crackers and pickles and—”

“And we can get those things for her,” Archer replied, and I lifted my head. “Everything except the doctor. If someone draws her blood, well, that would be problematic, especially given what’s going on.”

I stared at him. “Wait. My mom—”

“No.” Luc’s head whipped toward me. “You cannot contact your mom.”

My spine stiffened. “She could help us. At least give us the general idea of how to take care of Beth.” Once the idea popped into my head, I latched onto it. I was totally honest with myself. Some of the reason why it seemed like such a great idea was because I wanted to talk to her. I needed to talk to her.

“We already know what Beth needs, and unless your mom has the low down on how to care for pregnant hybrids, there’s not much more she can tell us that Google won’t.” Luc pulled his feet off the coffee table and they thumped on the floor. “And it will be dangerous to get in contact with your mom. Her phone could be monitored. It’s too dangerous for us and her.”

“Do you really think Daedalus gives two craps about us right now?”

“Is that something you want to risk?” Archer asked, meeting my gaze. “You willing to put all of us in danger, including Beth, all based on a hope they have their hands full? You willing to do that to your mom?”

My mouth screwed shut as I glared at him, but the fight leaked out of me like a balloon deflating. No. No, I wouldn’t risk that. I wouldn’t do that to us or to my mom. Tears pricked my eyes and I forced a deep breath.

“I’m working on something that will hopefully take care of the Nancy problem,” Luc announced, but the only thing I’d seen him work on was the fine art of sitting on his butt.

“Okay,” I said, voice hoarse as I willed the headache to go away and for the edges of bitter panic to recede. I had to keep it together, but that dark corner was looking better and better. “We need to get stuff for Beth.”

Archer nodded. “We do.”

Less than an hour later, Luc handed over a list of items he’d searched down on the internet. The whole situation made me feel like I was in some kind of twisted after-school special.

I wanted to laugh as I folded the piece of paper into the back pocket of my jeans, but then I probably wouldn’t stop laughing.

Luc was staying behind with Beth in case . . . well, in case something even worse happened, and I was going to go with Archer. Mainly because I thought it would be a good idea to get out of the cabin. At least it felt like I was doing something, and maybe—maybe going into town would give us some clues to where Daemon and his family had disappeared.

My hair was tucked up under a baseball cap that hid most of my face, so the chances I’d be recognized were slim. I had no idea if anyone would, but I didn’t want to take that risk.

It was late afternoon, and the air outside carried a chill that made me grateful I was wearing one of Daemon’s bulky long-sleeve shirts. Even in the heavily pine-scented air, if I breathed in deeply, I could catch his unique scent, a mix of spice and the outdoors.