Bannockburn Binding (Beloved Bloody Time) (23 page)

“That would be your traveller Natália, then,” Charbonneau said.

Ryan tilted his head, studying him. “You have always listened well. I see you’re also good at putting facts together correctly.”

“Comes from a lifetime of deception.” Charbonneau crossed his arms. “You do know trying to keep a secret on this station is impossible, don’t you? With all the mind-readers, empaths and vampires who are sneaky by experience, if not by nature, you don’t stand a chance.”

“I didn’t think we had imparted mind-reading to you, yet,” Ryan said mildly.

“Not yet, but I don’t need it to figure this one out. Your traveller, Natália, has been stuck in Scotland for unstated reasons and she’s been there long enough for even the most rested and thriving vampire to have started experiencing severe stasis poisoning. People seem to be able to reach her—Nayara, amongst others—but no-one seems to be trying to bring her back.”

Brenden leaned back in the reinforced chair tailored to his big frame and put his boots up on the desk. “How did you know that Nayara is back there?”

“Simple. Ryan said she was, about four weeks ago. And despite being here for nearly eight months now, I’ve yet to meet her, when I’ve met everyone else on the station. Therefore, she’s back there and spending a lot of time back there. She must be returning here purely to rest and let the symbiot recover before going back.” Charbonneau spread his hands. “That might have been enough, but Tinker himself gave me the biggest clue about twenty hours ago. He told me the name of the mystery guest he was ferrying over from Halfway. Thirty seconds on a terminal gave me that man’s biography and resume. An obstetrics specialist.” He shrugged. “I also saw Fahmido heading for the arrival chambers. Hedging your bets, Ryan?”

“She’s there to determine if the baby carries the symbiot, when it’s born.” Ryan glanced at Brenden, who was silently laughing. “He’s quite right, you great barbarian. Nothing is sacred here. You find that funny?”

“Wildly so,” Brenden assured him. He brought his feet back to the floor. “I know how to run a tight ship. We may all know each other’s business inside the station, but I can guarantee nothing gets out.”

Ryan sighed. “Yes, I’ll grant you that.” He waved Charbonneau to a chair. “You might as well stay and listen, now,” he told him. “We have more plots to hatch. Another sneaky mind will be useful.”

* * * * *

Rob clutched Natália’s hand as she moaned and arched her back and wished there was a way he could take some of the pain for her. Her hand was papery dry, almost brittle to the touch. He wondered if his grip wasn’t hurting her as well, but she continued to squeeze his hand, so he held on.

He glanced across her body. Lee had hold of Tally’s other hand, while the physician worked between her thighs. Lee translated Tally’s words as needed.

For a while, Lee had been acting as nurse, until the doctor had snapped at him irritably for offering too many suggestions. At that point, Nayara had stepped in, gently pushing Lee down onto the stool where Morag had been crouched and easing Morag into a sterile gown and gloves. Now Morag hovered silently at the doctor’s elbow. Despite her lack of modern medical knowledge, she seemed to be meeting his needs. If she didn’t recognize a technical word, Nayara or Lee were interpreting softly, or pointing to the right tool or implement.

They were the only people in the room, although there were another handful of Nayara’s people in the big room beyond the door.

Tally’s eyes had closed several hours before and had remained shut. That was shortly after the contractions had become distinctly harder and closer together. Lee kept assuring Rob that her mind was still focused. But Rob could see that Lee was worried, anyway.

“She’s nearly fully dilated,” Nayara told him, when the physician spoke. “Soon, now.”

“Does Tally know that?” Rob demanded.

“She can still hear us, Rob,” Lee told him, as Tally’s hand squeezed weakly around his.

“I can see the baby’s head,” Nayara said sharply. She leaned forward to assist the doctor, her attention sharply focused as he began to snap out orders.

Both Nayara and Morag began reaching for and handing the doctor instruments.

Tally’s grip tightened more and more, until her dry fingers and knuckles were white around Rob’s. The tendons in her neck were strained and her lips were parted. With a jolt, Rob realized that perhaps she was trying to scream and could not. He glanced at Lee for reassurance and saw tears on Lee’s face as he stared down at Tally, her hand clutched in both of his.

Agony and dread both speared Rob at the same time, along with overwhelming, dreadful guilt. He had put Tally in this position. If he had not insisted, all those months ago, on pressing his attentions on her, then they would not be here now.

Tally would not be risking death, if not for him.

Lee’s fingers dug into Rob’s shoulder. Hard. A swordsman’s grip, sure and painful. “Tally chose you, Rob,” Lee growled. “I chose you. Don’t you
dare
try to carry all the responsibility for this.”

Rob tried to pull together his wits. “How did you know?”

“Tally told me,” Lee said. He gave Rob’s shoulder a shake. “You’re trying to let her hand go.”

Rob looked down at his hand. He
had
uncurled his fingers and had flexed them, trying to force Tally’s shorter fingers to loosen and drop from around his.

He covered her hand in both of his. “Okay,” he said, using Lee and Tally’s word for acceptance. “Okay,” he repeated. “Just live, Tally. Survive this. Then I can, too.”

Lee let go of his shoulder. “She says ‘deal’.”

“Last big push,” Nayara warned. “Natália, you really need to give it all you’ve got, now.”

Rob’s fear bubbled up. In the next few minutes, he would learn if their child would live—
could
live in this strange world they found themselves in. Then in the few minutes after that, he would have to say goodbye to all three of them.

Rob caught and held Lee’s gaze. He didn’t need to be able to share his mind with Lee’s mind know they were thinking the same thought. Lee’s fear and sadness was written as plain as words on his face.

* * * * *

Finally, the three men in Brenden’s office found there was no more planning to be done. Instead, conversation turned to speculation and they began to wait.

And wait.

“You’re watching the arrival chamber alarms, right?” Ryan asked.

Brenden rolled his eyes, all the answer he gave. It made Ryan feel that of the three of them, he was coping the least with the novel idea of waiting for the birth of a child. Despite centuries of living and a vampire’s keen and accurate sense of the passage of time, this short wait was near impossible to tolerate.

Brenden leaned back in his oversized chair, making it creak. “Why do vampires dabble with this pretence at love? Any relationship is damned, even those between vampires. Time has a way of ending all of them. Humans mate to procreate. We don’t have that genetic imperative messing up our lives, but we still insist on sticking our fingers in the socket even though we know it hurts.”

“Is that the Spartan or the cynic that speaks?” Charbonneau asked. “Because it appears that vampires may well be able to procreate, after all.”

“Procreation is a fancy name for creating new individuals of a species,” Ryan said dryly. “Whenever a vampire makes another vampire, they’re procreating. Just because they’re not giving birth doesn’t discount it as a biological regenesis. The race of vampire continues because of a making. Ego, procreation.”

He stood up, to break the dour mood that was settling upon them. “A wager,” he declared. “A wager on the gender and weight of the baby. Let’s look at the positive side of this, shall we?”

Brenden’s scowl lightened. “For how much?” he said, failing to hide his eagerness.

“How much do you want to lose?” Ryan asked.

“I regret I cannot enter such a wager,” Charbonneau said.

“Why not?” Brenden demanded.

“It would not be fair,” the Frenchman replied.

Brenden’s brows lifted, as he absorbed that. “You’re a confident son of a bitch, I’ll give you that. What, too many generations of watching women bear children?”

Charbonneau shook his head, but remained mute. But he was smiling a little, hiding a broader amusement.

Brenden seemed to sense his humour, for he grinned back. “Ah, will you listen to us? We sound like a trio of coddled old maids. You’d think we’ve never before waited for a baby to be born.”

Ryan sat back down again, relaxing. “It’s been a long while. We’re out of practice.”

Charbonneau nodded. “Very rusty indeed,” he agreed. “But it might be something vampires have to get used to again, no?”

* * * * *

Rob stared down at the pink, delicate baby asleep on Tally’s chest, feasting on the sight. Remembering it. Time was trickling away with a speed that seemed to be accelerating.

The doctor had been hurried away, his job done. The strange white woman with red eyes had taken their son away for a short while after his birth and then returned him, apparently unharmed. Fahmido, he assumed. The vampire doctor.

Morag and Nayara had cared for Tally, touching her carefully and tending her needs. They had refused to let Lee, the medically trained one, near her. Lee was the only one Tally could reach now and he acted as translator for all.

Rob kissed Tally’s forehead, barely touching her with his lips. He could feel the dryness and thinness of her flesh by that touch and by the feel of her hand in his. He had not let go, not even to hold his son. “You made it, Tally,” he murmured. “He’s a fine boy.”

She looked at him and smiled a little. She seemed to be trying to tell him something.

There was a whirring noise that Rob has swiftly learned to associate with the instruments and machines that Nayara and her crew had brought from the future. He looked up and saw Nayara pulling a device away from her face. She plucked a thin sheet of something from the front of it.

“Handled carefully, this will last you the rest of your life, Rob. But you can never show anyone. They’ll think you’re a witch, at the very least.” She held the sheet out to him and he took it with his spare hand and looked at it.

It was an image of Lee, Tally and the babe exactly as they were grouped right then. And him. He studied the image of himself, fascinated. “This is how I look?” he asked. “All of me?” He had seen his face dozens of times now in the perfectly clear mirror in the bathroom, but never a full representation of himself.

“Yes. This is called a—”

“Photograph,” Rob finished. “I know.” He looked at the instrument in Nayara’s hand. “That has to be a camera, then.”

Nayara grimaced, with a glance at Lee. “You two covered a lot of ground.”

“It was nearly a year I had with them. That’s a lot of talking, amongst other things.” He lowered the photograph to the table, coldness sweeping through him. The great room on the other side of the wall was very quiet. No-one was there, except for Morag. They’d all gone ahead to their own time.

“It’s time, isn’t it?” he said, looking at Lee.

Nayara glanced at Lee. “I’ll go ahead,” she murmured. Then she turned to Rob. “Goodbye, Robert Bruce MacKenzie. I have enjoyed knowing you.” She held out her hand for the modern handshake Lee had taught Rob. Rob made himself take her hand and shake it. Lee had explained that even women shook hands in their time.

Then Nayara leaned forward and touched her lips to Rob’s cheek. “Be happy, Rob. You are very special.”

She turned and hurried from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Lee moved slowly around the bed and Rob could feel coldness gripping his heart, like the deepest aching chill of winter.

“Every minute we wait makes it worse for her, Rob,” Lee said.

“Then go.” He looked down at Tally, who was watching him, tears in her eyes. “We’ve spoke of this many times. We’ve said what needs to be said. Take Tally home for me, Lee. Take care of her.” His voice broke and he stopped.

“And our son, Rob,” Lee finished. His arms came around Rob, warm and hard, and dearly familiar. “I will, with all my heart.”

Rob let himself take comfort for a weak moment. Then he pushed Lee away. “Go,” he said. “You said time was critical. Go.”

“One moment more,” Lee said. He glanced at Tally. “Share this with me, Tally.” Then he kissed Rob, deeply and thoroughly.

It should have been an arousing kiss, as Lee’s kisses always were. But the only thought in Rob’s head was that this was the last kiss he would ever receive from either of them. The hurt the thought delivered wiped out any pleasure the kiss might have imparted.

Lee loosened his hold and moved back, but he didn’t let go of Rob altogether. Rob watched his gaze turn inward for a minute, then re-focus on him. He knew that Lee had just been speaking with Tally. “It’s just you and me,” Lee whispered. “Tally has withdrawn.”

Rob frowned, puzzled.

Lee caught his chin with his long fingers. “Your plan, Rob. Your grand ambition. Remember?”

Rob caught his breath. He had nearly forgotten that long-ago conversation, when Lee had been drunk. Rob nearly laughed at the cock-eyed optimism he’d held then. How had he ever thought he could defeat time itself?