Cian woke in the dark to an urgent rapping on his bedroom door. Winter’s low voice carried through the wood. “Cian, we’re on.”
Cian sat up in bed, trying to parse that. On? On what? English wasn’t his first language and sometimes idioms — he hoped it was an idiom — tripped him up. He pulled his jeans on and made his groggy way across the spacious room to find Winter on the other side of his door, dressed in her usual loose dress and cardigan, her purple bag over her shoulder and her surgical bag heavy in her hand. She hadn’t taken the time to put her hip-length white hair up in a bun, and it rode one shoulder in a careless braid.
She was lovely.
He pushed his own long, sleep-tousled hair out of his face. “What are we on?”
A small, exhausted smile played about her lips, and he wanted to kiss her until the shadows under her ice-blue eyes faded away. “’On’ means it’s showtime,” she explained, not terribly effectively. What was a ‘showtime?’ “We have a delivery to attend. Corinne’s started bleeding heavily, and Doc says she can’t stop it.”
Cian’s brows shot to his hairline. The Lion Queen? Oh shit. “Is it the placenta previa? She’s five weeks early.” Which wasn’t too terribly early for a human or a vampire, but with a therian’s five-and-a-half-month gestation it could make things complicated.
Winter nodded. “Which means that either she got pregnant during an earlier heat than we thought, or the placenta’s started pulling away from her uterus, which I think is the more likely. Either way, I suspect we need to deliver the baby tonight. If she’s having contractions it will tear the placenta apart, leading to hemorrhaging. Now, you get dressed, and I’ll wake up Etienne so he can drive you out to Xanadu on the motorcycle. I need you at the top of your game, and making you ride with me in the Bug with its old steel chassis won’t help with that.” She sighed. “I really do need a new car.”
Cian shuddered at the thought of riding in the Bug. He’d ridden in more than one older model vehicle and gotten sick in the process. He was sidhe, though, and not a lesser fae, so sick was the extent of it. A lesser fae might come away with more serious injury or even death. The little pixies in the gardens here on the Point avoided Winter’s vintage car at all costs. “Yeah, a new one would be good. Maybe we can go shopping for one this weekend?”
Winter gave him a tired smile, but tired as she was it still reached her eyes. Cian couldn’t have said that only a few weeks ago. “Yes, maybe.” She checked the time on her phone. “We need to head out as soon as possible. Doc is perfectly capable of performing a c-section if she needs to, but I’d rather be there in case things get complicated. I’ll meet you in the foyer in five minutes.”
Cian shut the door as Winter moved toward Etienne’s room and turned to get ready. It was just the three of them rattling around in this huge house, where once there had been dozens of wizards, all part of the extensive Mulcahy family. He could tell that Winter liked having the company, and he liked it, too. So did Etienne.
Long hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, worn boots and a new sweatshirt against the mid-November chill, his silk-lined riding chaps to protect him from the Harley’s frame, and he was ready to ride as soon as he got his helmet and riding jacket together. Worry for Corinne dueled with excitement. This would be his first time attending a birth. He’d assisted Winter with several surgeries already, but Corinne was the community member closest to delivering and currently the highest-risk pregnancy. She was also one of Winter’s closest friends, and Winter said she felt better knowing he would be backing her up with his healing gift. Cian was happy to help.
Etienne was still putting his auburn hair up into a ponytail in the high style he preferred as he hit the stairs and nodded to Cian. “Get your things. It’s going to be a cold ride, even for you.” His red plaid overshirt was slung about his neck and the new black gun rig for his old Glock jostled lightly against his chest with each stairstep he took.
Cian stood at the bottom of the double staircase beside Winter and watched the faerie knight descend, his bootheels thudding softly on each wide tread. He waved a hand indicating the Glock under Etienne’s left arm. “Expecting trouble?”
Etienne smirked and pulled on the overshirt as he touched down from the last step. “Always. This is Seahaven, after all.”
Winter shook her head and offered a rueful smile but didn’t disagree. “I’ve got the car loaded and ready to go. Be careful out there. The roads might be a bit slick after that rain.”
Etienne’s smile stretched into a rake-hell grin and Cian felt his belly flop. By Dagda, Etienne had a sexy smile. “A little rain isn’t going to stop us. Now, let’s go help Corinne.”
Cian handed Etienne his helmet and his old worn leather coat before getting into his own, new, silk lined coat. Winter’d had it made for him when she’d noticed he was showing about an inch of wrist below the cuff of his old one.
Winter hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder, determination showing in her eyes. “Okay, let’s do this.”
The rain had subsided to a sprinkle, which did nothing for making the ride out to Xanadu any safer. Etienne sat a little higher in his seat, vigilant, and managed to avoid most of the puddles.
Most.
Cian tried to ignore his cold, wet boots as the three of them pulled into the covered Xanadu employee parking lot, Winter leading the way in her yellow Bug. They were met at the back entrance to the primary hotel that crowned the largest island in the resort complex. Corinne owned all of the islands in Eriksson Bay, and employed both the dolphins and the selkies as well as her entire large pride of lions. Scores of humans worked in the park, too, but they were offered only limited access. No need for some curious teenager to die just because they got a peek behind the Veil of Secrecy.
Santiago, Corinne’s husband, mate, and Chief of Security, waved as they approached the private elevator. Worry etched deep lines into his brow, cutting into his light brown skin. Cian noticed that he’d shaved his head, but it was already showing fine stubble with the force of his therian regeneration. “Winter, thank god you’re here.” His English was flavored with rich Cuban Spanish, as were most of the lions he had brought with him from Miami to merge with Corinne’s lioness-heavy pride.
Winter offered up a confident smile and gave the Lion King a quick hug. “It’ll be all right. I can get little Bella out in under a minute if I need to.”
Cian knew that Winter’d had to perform emergency c-sections in the past and knew what she was doing. Therian couldn’t get sick or infected, but they could develop conditions that put a pregnancy at risk, like Corinne’s placenta previa. Most therian lived on the edge of society, victims of poverty, abuse, and malnutrition. Pregnancy loss and high infant mortality were common.
But that wasn’t a concern with Corinne tonight. The Lion Queen led one of the biggest groups in Seahaven and was one of the most powerful and wealthiest therian on the West Coast.
Santiago ushered the three of them into the elevator and swiped his resort ID through the reader, granting them access to the private floors and the penthouse where the pride lived. “Doc says Corinne and the baby are both holding steady, even with the blood loss. She’s got both of them on monitors.”
Winter looked to Cian. “With heavy bleeding, what is keeping Corinne and Bella stable?”
Cian thought about that for a moment. “It’s Corinne. She’s strong enough that her healing ability is regenerating blood before she can lose too much, so Bella isn’t being stressed.” He paused. “Yet. There’s a limit to how long her body can heal itself and maintain the baby at the same time. She’s burning through an incredible amount of calories, and once she’s depleted, she’ll be vulnerable.”
Winter smiled her approval. “Excellent. You’re picking this up quickly.”
Etienne looked pleased but said nothing.
Santiago listened intently, tension singing across the backs of his hands, stress making his dark-eyed gaze intense. “But you can save her — save them — can’t you, Winter?”
Winter exuded confidence even as Cian could feel her exhaustion through the veil of his healing gift. “I’m here to fight. We’ll get Corinne through this.”
They exited the elevator one floor below the penthouse where Corinne and Santiago lived and travelled at a brisk pace past closed doors and the soft sounds of sleeping lions until Santiago pushed open a set of frosted glass doors at the end of the hall.
Doctor Gloria Park’s domain.
Glass, chrome, and bright lights, the small clinic and surgery suite gleamed like a shrine to modern medicine. Winter’s backroom clinic was smaller and homier — and a lot busier — but Cian could tell by the way she glanced around that Winter admired it and all of the shiny toys Doc had to play with.
Cian had to admit that he did, too.
“Doc, they’re here.” Santiago raised his voice just enough to be heard on the other side of the two frosted glass doors that bracketed the main room of the clinic.
Doc emerged from the door on the right, butting it open with a hip, her gloved hands marked by blood and ruddy betadine. A bloody streak smeared wet across her white coat at the waist, but she ignored it. She flashed a quick smile of greeting at the new arrivals, her slightly hooded eyes crinkling at the corners and tugging at her small epicanthal folds, her short, no-nonsense, black hair tucked beneath a surgery bonnet. “Excellent timing. I’m prepping Corinne now. How do you want to do this?”
Winter took her surgery bag from Etienne and began moving toward the surgery suite. “I think we should first administer my painkiller potion, and then once it kicks in, we can take a closer look.” She gestured to the blood on Doc’s coat and hands. “Is that all hers?” In any place other than Seahaven that might have been an odd question, but Cian was quickly learning that chaos seemed to reign above all, here.
Doc made a short shrugging gesture. “This time, yes. Contractions started about an hour ago.”
Winter nodded, all business. “Then we’ve got no time to waste. Santiago, do you want to come in and keep Corinne company?”
Santiago smiled, visibly relieved. “Si. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Etienne crossed his arms and leaned a hip against a table. “I’ll wait out here. Haven’t attended a birth in a while, but I bet it’s going to be crowded enough in there as it is.”
Winter flashed the faerie knight a warm smile of gratitude and pushed through the door, Cian close behind her, Doc and Santiago bringing up the rear.
The surgery suite was small, but airy and brightly lit. Corinne sat reclined in the center of the room, gravid belly painted a lurid yellow-red with betadine, long red hair tucked into a surgery bonnet to keep it out of the way, full lips looking pale. Even still, she was glamorous. She opened her eyes as they entered the room, and she smiled a tired smile. “Hey there.”
Winter returned the smile with one of her own as she pulled out a surgery bonnet for herself and passed another to Cian. “Ready to have a baby tonight?”
Corinne chuckled softly and reached out for Santiago’s hand as he reached her side. “You have no idea. But someday you will.”
Winter’s smile turned a bit wistful. “Maybe.” Cian wanted to hold her, just for a moment. He knew she expected to die young, like the rest of the Mulcahy line. She was the last.
Cian found a chair and brought it to Santiago so he could sit at Corinne’s head.
Santiago took the seat and stroked Corinne’s forehead. “Mi corazón.”
Winter tucked her long braid into the surgery bonnet and Cian followed suit. “This is going to go very fast. Your contractions tore the placenta and that’s what’s causing the bleeding. It’s still a total occlusion, still entirely blocking the cervix, as we saw on the ultrasound during your checkup last week.”
Corinne gave a single nod, exhaustion and worry etched into the corners of her eyes. “Did I do something wrong? She’s so early.”
Winter shook her head no and dug into her surgical bag. “Sometimes babies just come early. Nobody’s at fault.” She looked at the monitors showing both Corinne and the baby’s vitals and Cian followed her gaze. Both were holding steady so far. “But Bella’s at a good weight. She should be fine. And your strength is keeping her that way. But I still want to get her out with all speed. We need your bleeding to stop.” As she spoke, she pulled a tumbler from the bag, filled it with cool water, and added three drops of light blue potion, drops that never quite mixed in, instead swirling about like whisps of metallic smoke. “Here, drink all of this down as fast as you can.”
Corinne took the tumbler and knocked it back, then locked her jaw as her entire body shuddered. “Good lord, what was that?”
Winter retrieved the tumbler before it ended up on the floor. “Painkiller potion. It will last for a few hours. It also gives us the ability to go in after little Bella without you feeling any pain and without giving you enough human anesthetic to knock out the Fifth Fleet.” Cian knew from Winter’s explanations that therian could burn through human drugs at an alarming rate. Only magical solutions could withstand their incredible metabolisms.
Corinne shuddered one more time, and then leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes. “Oh. Oh, that’s much better. Thank you.”
Winter gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Good. Now let’s meet your daughter and get that bleeding stopped.” She shrugged out of her sweater and pulled a couple of scrub tops out of the surgery bag, handing one over to Cian. “This is going to be pretty straight forward,” she began to explain, mostly to Cian. Doc already knew what she was doing. “Cian, I want you as tech on this so you can get as much experience as possible. You’ll suction the amniotic fluid out of our way, and I’d like you to use your touch healing to tack Corinne back together once we deliver the placenta, so she heals correctly. Corinne is strong enough that she’ll probably heal faster than I can suture her. Doc, if you can keep the incisions open long enough for me to go in and get the baby and the placenta, we can get her delivered in the next few minutes.”
Doc gave a thoughtful look at her queen’s belly and then to the monitors. “I think that’s reasonable. The bassinet’s already warming, so you can just plop the baby in there while you deliver the placenta and we get the bleeding stopped, and then as soon as the umbilical cord stops pulsing, we can cut it.” She cast a grin at Santiago, who was massaging Corinne’s temples. “Feel like cutting the cord?”
A smile spread across Santiago’s handsome face. “Si. I thought that was just a TV thing.”
Doc let out a soft chuckle. “No, it can be a dad thing, too. Bella’s welcome to the world.”
Winter handed Cian a clean absorbent pad, and he replaced the blood-soaked one beneath Corinne, tossing it into the operating room trash with the rest of them. He could only thank Dagda that she was a therian, and a queen. A human would be in dire straits by now.
Doc lifted an electrocautery scalpel from its tray, the steel glinting under the bright lights, a long wire stretching to the base of the machine beside her. “Ready when you are.”
Winter explored Corinne’s belly, feeling out the position of the baby within. “She’s breech, which is normal with placenta previa. First incision down here, across the lower abdomen, and then we very carefully cut into the uterus.”
Doc snorted. “Don’t teach me to suck eggs, kid.”
An amused smile tugged at Winter’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Cian, get ready with the suction, please.”
Cian flipped the machine on and held the wand at the ready, tucking himself against Corinne’s side opposite of Santiago so he could both reach and stay out of the way. He’d done this in surgery with Winter before. There had just never been a baby involved. It didn’t make him nervous, though. Winter had faith in him.
Winter shifted just a little to the side to give Doc more room. “All right, let’s do this.”
Doc spread her fingers across Corinne’s lower abdomen, her hands rock-steady, and made the first deft incision, a tiny whiff of smoke rising as she made the long cut, stopping bleeding before it could start, exposing the flesh of Corinne’s uterus. “Get the retractors ready,” Doc murmured to no one in particular.
Winter reached around her and picked up the two steel retractors, looking for all the world like salad tongs to Cian’s mind. He’d used them before, but the first impression was always the lasting one.
Doc carefully centered her scalpel and indicated a small band of muscle just to the side of her hand. “Pay attention to this, Cian.” Her voice was low with concentration. “Corinne is a lioness, and her uterus works a little differently than a human’s. Instead of basically just being nestled in place by the other abdominal structures, it’s held in place at two points, acting as shock absorbers. She’s built to hunt and fight while pregnant.” Doc shifted the position of her scalpel. “We don’t want to cut those, so we’re making a bit of a smaller incision instead.”
Cian nodded, absorbing the lesson. “Will the baby still fit through?”
Doc nodded. “It’ll just be a tighter squeeze, but she’ll be fine.” Doc deftly nicked the edges of the first incision, pushing against Corinne’s healing ability. “Cutting now.” She pierced the uterine wall without hesitation, drawing another long, bloodless, horizontal line across Corinne’s abdomen.
Immediately a tiny foot appeared, pressed against the intact, translucent amniotic sac. Winter smiled as she applied the retractors. “Very nice.”
Doc grinned. “It’s what we do. Ready to catch?”
Winter nodded. “Trade you.”
Doc and Winter traded tools in a dance born out of years of practice. Doc had been Winter’s primary teacher as she learned trauma surgery, after the death of her Aunt Curiosity.
Winter cut into the amniotic sac with a delicate touch, careful of the moving baby beneath. Cian shifted behind her, suctioning fluid as best he could, until Winter slipped her hands inside and began to ease the baby out.
Corinne’s eyes widened. “Oh, that feels weird. How does she look?”
Winter slipped a hand further into Corinne’s uterus, sloshing fluid over her wrists and onto the pad. “Well, all I see right now is her little butt, but her head is coming free… right… now.”
Corinne raised her head, eager for a peek. “Can I see her?”
Winter mopped the tiny baby’s face off with a pad that Cian handed her, suctioned her little nose and mouth, and held her where Corinne and Santiago could see just in time for Bella to raise her first vigorous objections to being pulled from her warm retreat. Winter beamed. “Look what you two did.”
Santiago’s eyes reddened with joy and he kissed Corinne’s cheek. “She has your hair, mi corazón.”
Corinne grinned, unable to take her eyes off the baby. “She’s beautiful. Just beautiful.”
“And messy.” Winter handed Bella off to Cian, who wrapped her in an absorbent pad and carried her to the cozy bassinet. She was so tiny, and so fierce. “Let me finish this with Doc and Cian’s help and then she’s all yours.”
If you like this story, check out our other free short fiction and all things Seahaven at https://www.aelowan.com.