The Mates of Monsters

Chapter 49

"They're drawing my circle."

I stand at the back doors in the kitchen. It's pitch black outside. We've either launched ourselves into the night sky or have stumbled into a place we are not supposed to be.

"It's time," David says as he comes up behind me. His hands reach under my arms and caress my bump.

Something moves inside of me, and my eyes shoot down to my round, ripened stomach. I gasp and swiftly turn to my love. David kneels before me and looks at my very pregnant belly. Fear strikes my core. "I-I don't remember—"

"It's coming," he tells me. "It's time."

I jolt and wake in my seat, submerged in the strange atmosphere of the airplane. Bonny is in the seat beside me, and in front of us, Lyde and Jeremy are stationed. I can't see them from over the partition, but Bonny is asleep, comfortable in a roomy, padded, reclined seat that I have the privilege of experiencing myself. Yet it's hard to enjoy when everything has felt so off.

The last thirty-six hours have been nothing more than a bizarre haze.

I never went back to sleep after I woke up with blood in my underwear, but I pretended to do so when David did. As requested, he canceled my doctor's appointment and stayed with me all morning until Bonny and Jeremy arrived. Shockingly, I didn't break. I spoke when I needed to, ate when I was given food and said "I'm fine" just about a hundred times. For once, it was easy to say it. I was tired and my head hurt and my last drop of energy had to go to our planning. I didn't have it in me to weather a breakdown.

The next night, I slept like the dead. David woke me and suddenly I was moving. I had to get ready and drive all the way to the airport and get on a plane for over eight hours. Saying goodbye was difficult, and my anxiety was only made worse when I discovered I didn't bleed at all through the night. But it was too late. I had to go and hope my body sorts itself out.

He kissed me and held me and stroked my hair. I cried a little too much which only unnerved him more. For a few minutes there I thought he might force me to stay, and in that state, I wouldn't have had a single issue obeying, but he let me go.

I can still recall the look in his eyes—his hesitation, his fear.

I bring my little toiletry pouch with me to the bathroom. It's a cramped space, but I make it work. I avoid the mirror and get right to business. It takes all of ten seconds for me to worsen my confusion; there's no blood again. "Oh no," I chirp and begin to panic.

When Bonny saw me yesterday, she didn't have to ask how my nonexistent appointment went. It was clear by my somber, mournful aura that my previous hopes were stomped to dust. Thankfully, Jeremy knows that I like to cocoon myself in numbness when I'm depressed, and he let me be. It's was Helena that I struggled to face, but she reacted as I assumed she would—like a mother with a soft, healing touch. She told me to keep wearing the necklace.

I exit the cubby of a bathroom and return to my seat. Unsure of whether or not I should say something, I refrain from waking Bonny to bombard her with questions. It's clear that whatever was in my underwear the other night was not what I thought it was. Whatever is going on with me will have to wait until I get back home because I cannot juggle this sort of dilemma while I'm traveling across the world. I have a proposition to schmooze down peoples' throats and a speech to give. This—this is not happening. Not now. It can happen when I'm home with David and Helena, not tens of thousands of feet in the air.

I push against the back of my seat, worried I may have a panic attack—no. No, I have to keep it together. Maybe it's time for another test, one that really exercises my Luna abilities. All I have to do is change the fundamental structure of my kind while finding out if I could actually be pregnant. A little laugh slips out.