Read Online Born in Twilight: Twilight Vows by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online Page B

happens to the baby?” Hilary whispered.
    Again they all looked at her, but they were over being surprised at her ever-increasing interruptions.
    â€œThe baby will be our most prized research subject,” Fuller explained. “Ms. Garner, this is a first. A one of a kind. Will it be born a vampire, or a mortal, or some mutant cross between the two? We’re going to learn more from this creature than…Ms. Garner?”
    It showed in her face. That sick feeling that made her think she’d better get out of here fast before she lost control and broke into tears in front of all of them. She schooled her features, stood up slowly. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me for a minute.” She turned toward the door.
    â€œStomach bug, Ms. Garner?” Fuller’s voice was full of speculation, and the look in his eyes was deadly as she glanced back at him.
    â€œYes,” she told him. “The flu, I think.”
    â€œIt had better be.”
    Â * * *
    It was a haze of pain and horror and fear. The first drug they gave me left me nearly paralyzed. And the second one brought on the pain. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see the walls I passed as they wheeled me along, strapped to a stretcher, into an elevator and up. They took me to a room with masked, white-coated people and machines and equipment of all kinds. And those masked demons surrounded me, staring down, snapping on surgical gloves.
    They spoke, but I didn’t know what they were saying, so dazed was I by the pain. I hurt, I only knew that. I thought my body would tear itself in half, and I screamed. I know I screamed.
    And those white coats all around me, eyes eager with excitement. There was only one, the brown-skinned woman with the big doe’s eyes, who might be different. I’d seen her before, the woman with the kind brown eyes. The kindest brown eyes I thought I had ever seen. She looked as horrified from behind her surgical mask as I felt.
    Oh, and I was horrified, beyond all thought. Horrified, because I could barely move, could barely think. And all I could feel was pain. And I knew I was helpless to fight them. Helpless to protect my child. Utterly…helpless.
    She stood beside my head, the one with the kindness in her eyes. She stroked my face, not speaking, but I could see the pity in her eyes when they met mine. And then there was relief, so swift and sudden I nearly floated off the table with it. Doe Eyes turned her head, looking down at the men and woman who stood at the foot of the table on which I lay. I followed that gaze, looking where she did. And I saw my child. The woman I’d thought of as a kindly old grandmother held her—a pink, wrinkled blur in her arms. A blur that squirmed and kicked and had jet-black hair stuck to her head.
    And then that pretty one leaned close to me and whispered, “A girl. And she looks healthy.”
    I moved my lips, lifted my hands toward my child, my daughter. I tried to beg. “Please…”
    And those doe eyes filled with tears. They met mine. Held mine. “Please,” I whispered. “Help me…help… her! ”
    She looked at me, then at my baby as they carried her from the room, out of my sight. All of them, leaving me lying there. And I watched them go, as great heaving sobs that hurt as much as the birth had, tore through my body. I tried to sit up, tried with everything in me to tear free of the straps that held me down. But the drug made my efforts into a joke. A sideshow, as I cried in agony and they took my child out of my sight.
    And then that beautiful, dark-skinned woman who seemed different from the others touched my face. I turned to look up at her, and her eyes, with tears swimming in and nearly spilling from them, met mine again.
    â€œHelp her,” I whispered.
    And slowly, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
    Then she left me to the orderlies, who arrived to clean me up and return me to my cell, I