Chapter Eleven:

Loss, Love, Insanity

Pain was the last thing she remembered, and the first thing that came to her when she awoke.

At first, Selene's mind was hazy with the details.

Something with Michael…

He was angry…

His black eyes…

The scent of transformation lingering in the air…

And then he left.

That was it; the full reason for her pain. Michael knew the truth, the full truth, and he had walked out on her. She had tried to explain, tried to reason away the kiss. Of course he shouldn't listen. She had betrayed him.

And worse than betrayal; she had betrayed him with someone who was already ruining her life.

Why had she kissed Matthias? Too much emotion. There was no feeling in her heart for him at all.

Her heart was already full with the love she felt for Michael. For him, she would do anything. She would kill Matthias if it would solve anything. She feared that the situation had gone past the point of salvaging.

Lying in the exam room, alone in the silence broken only by the beep of the foetal monitor, Selene had dissolved into tears. What she had feared since learning that she was pregnant had come to pass. The hurt she felt from Michael leaving was equal to the hatred she felt for herself, for letting the situation lose control so badly. She should have been honest with him, should have told him everything. If she had, maybe he would have been closer to her; maybe he would have protected her, kept her away from Matthias.

Instead, she went straight to Matthias' arms and destroyed any hope of her future happiness.

She was still sobbing silently when Coran had entered the room, a look of concern on his face.

"Is everything alright?" After briefly scanning the room, reflexively looking for Michael no doubt, he looked at Selene with questions all over his face.

She nodded, managing a weak smile as she choked back any further sobs. "Everything's fine," she said. But her voice was too high, nowhere near convincing enough for the young doctor.

"I saw Michael leave. Did something happen?"

"No." Selene shook her head, trying at least to portray conviction in her next lie. "He was called by Riley. He had to go."

"Oh." Whether Coran believed her lie or not, she could not be sure. He crossed to her beside and checked the monitor read-outs.

"Baby's stats are still fine," he said, but the words had the message of calm before the storm; positive before a massive negative. "You haven't left this bed?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her over the pages.

She shook her head. "I've been here the whole time."

He examined the sheet once more. "Your stats are all over the place. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Tired."

"You haven't slept?"

Selene could lie no longer. Lying took too much strength, too much effort. She did not have the capacity to be dishonest with anyone else.

What she wanted was to sleep; to fall into a sleep that would last a lifetime. Dreams were manageable, dreams were a cinch compared to life. She could dream that Michael was still beside her; even dream that the pregnancy had gone by without an issue. They would be holding their child, they would be happy.

She needed to sleep.

"A little," she responded. "All I want is to sleep." With the truth came tears, and Coran patted her knee gently.

"I understand things have been stressful," he said with his trademark warm smile. "I'll give you a mild dose of Ativan. It should help you to sleep through the night."

"Thank you." She smiled genuinely at him, thankful for at least a temporary escape.

She watched as he prepared the syringe, then injected it into the IV tube in her arm.

"It will take a little while to kick in," he said softly. "Just rest in the meantime."

"Thank you," she repeated. Already, the affects of the medication were starting to distort her vision, warp her mind.

"If Michael comes back," she said drowsily. "Tell him I'm sorry."

And then there was blackness.

She did not dream like she thought she would. Instead, she gained full rest for only the second time in five months.

And as she slowly returned from her slumber to a conscious state, she realised that her surroundings were different. The surface beneath her was cold and hard. There was still a clinical smell to the air, but even it was different.

Opening her eyes, she found herself gazing at a different ceiling. It took a while for it to come into focus, but once it did she saw that the ceiling was tiled, rather than the concrete ceiling of the underground clinic. The tiles were a metre wide, alternating with bright fluorescent lights of the same size.

When she tried to move, she found herself restrained. Her arms were cuffed at her upper arms, her elbows, and her wrists. Likewise, her legs were cuffed at her thighs, her knees and her ankles.

She could move her head, and as she looked up she was able to learn a little more of her surroundings. The room that she was in could have been any room in any house, there was nothing particularly clinical about it. The scent reaching her nostrils, she gathered, was from whatever was used to clean the steel exam table that she was now attached to.

From what she could see, the walls were lightly coloured, while the floor was coloured in something darker. She could not stretch far enough to see much else.

Beside her table was a second, much smaller table. Upon it were various surgical implements: a number of scalpels of varying sizes, forceps, clamps and medical gauze.

A third table sat beside that, with nothing on it but a folded towel.

She had been moved; this was one thing that she realised in an instant. When she realised that the foetal monitor was no longer strapped to her stomach, the scene started to make sense.

Caesarean; she would not carry the baby to full term. One task failed.

Were there sufficient props present to perform a caesarean? She was not a doctor in any sense; but with only the three tables in the room, she wondered what kind of place she was in. Clearly not one prepared for an emergency.

But then the more pressing question came to mind. Where was she? Had they actually gone as far as to take her to a regular hospital to have this done?

Of course not. Nobody in the compound would have allowed it to happen. She was a vampire. Human hospitals wouldn't understand, couldn't cope with her type.

She was still hooked up to one IV, its stand bearing blood bag stationed at her head.

Possibly most confusing of all, and what was starting to make her anxious, was the fact that while she had been awake, she had been the only one in the room. There was nobody else present.

Selene felt she had sufficient cause to panic; but there was little that she could do. She was trapped. Surely this was not regular protocol for surgery…

"You're awake at last."

The voice sounded from somewhere beyond her feet. She did not need to stretch her neck to see who the voice belonged to. It was the voice she had been cursing for days, had been dreaming about for months.

Matthias stood at the foot of the table, a gentle smile on his face. "I was beginning to think you'd never wake up," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Selene felt frozen. Something had obviously gone very badly wrong. Where was Michael? Where was Coran?

Where for that matter was she?

Locking her eyes with his she asked him, "What's going on?"

He smiled again, seeming amused with the question. "What's going on?" he repeated. "I'll tell you, my love. I have just saved you from a life that was making you miserable. I have taken you away from the monster that you were living with, and have brought you where you belong."

She frowned, not fully comprehending. "What do you mean?"

He laughed. "You can't be so innocent and naïve after six centuries, Selene. You belong with me. Any fool can see that."

Her confusion was replaced in an instant by infuriation. "I do not belong with you," she snarled, raising her head to add force to her words. "I belong with Michael."

"That must be the sedatives talking. They do tend to knock people about." He moved up the length of the table, now standing by her head. His hand stroked her cheek. "Don't worry, my darling," he whispered. "It's been a long time coming, but now we can be together. Nobody can stop us; not your family, not Michael, not anyone."

She struggled against her binds but to no avail. She was held in place like a pinned butterfly, forced to listen as he regaled her.

"You never knew this," he began, his voice soft in reminiscence. "But Celeste was not my first choice in a wife. It was you I fell in love with."

Selene froze yet again.

"Your father wouldn't allow me to marry you. Not until Celeste was married. Then it was he who suggested I marry Celeste."

She could not believe the words she was hearing. Matthias had never truly loved her sister; it was she, Selene, who he had wanted all along. She was his trophy, and it seemed he had finally claimed her.

"We started sleeping together. And then when you fell pregnant, I knew he'd work out who the father was. That was when I left."

"And you never thought to mention any of this then?" she snapped.

"It would only have hurt you, hurt Celeste. I maintain that leaving was the best thing to do for all of you. For me, being away from you, it was hell."

Matthias smiled down at her, before lowering his lips to her neck. He nuzzled her, nibbled along her jugular.

Like Michael used to do.

Crying out, she struggled once again against her restraints, the movement enough to stop him from kissing her.

"It wasn't a coincidence that I found the cleaners," he was saying now. "I had been tracking them for the four months that you were with them. It was you I found first. I've been watching you for sixteen years."

Horror, bold and incredulous, was the only feeling she had. "What?" Surely she was dreaming.

"I never expected to find you," he explained. "I was watching one of the lycan dens one night when the death dealers attacked. And there you were. You were like something out of my fantasy. My erotic fantasy." He grinned at this point, a sensual growl vibrating in his chest. He reached out and ran his hand up her thigh.

She hissed at him in response.

"At first, I wasn't sure if it was you," he said, that look of sensual hunger still in his eyes. "But I heard someone speak your name. I had never forgotten our tryst, our love. I hated myself for so long for leaving you, and then I forced myself to accept that you were gone. I've loved since, but I've never loved anyone even half as much as I love you."

He turned his back on her now, and she could hear the clink of tools on the table. She knew she had to leave, but she was completely immobile.

"Of course, I could never approach you," he said softly. "You were trained to kill my sort. And so I was forced to watch; watch as you took meaningless partners to your bed, watch as you let yourself believe that you loved that Michael, that cur.

"And I watched as your stomach grew." Matthias turned as he said this, a syringe filled with clear liquid in one hand. "It angered me to know that you had let that thing defile you like that, but that you had been impregnated by it…"

He shook his head. "I know you're programmed for motherhood, Selene," he said softly. "And you've been brainwashed to love this filthy creation. It may even hurt you to hear what I'm about to say."

Selene's mind froze. He didn't need to say it, but he was going to anyway.

"If I had come to you earlier," he continued. "The pregnancy could have been terminated. I know it's my fault, but as it is now…" He shook his head. "You understand. It's for us. If we're to be together, we need to have our own family, like fate had planned. I can't raise something that doesn't belong to me." He said the last part almost solemnly. "It's not even the same species."

"No," Selene whispered through quivering lips. "You can't, you can't do this."

"I don't want it to hurt you," he whispered in response. He knelt down, pressing kisses to her cheek, her lips. "I just want it gone. It has to be gone."

Matthias had Selene's IV tube in his free hand, the syringe en route.

"Please." She was sobbing now, fear and hopelessness seeping through her anger and disbelief. "Don't hurt my baby."

The syringe pierced the tube, and he plunged it slowly.

"I have to," he said softly. "It's the only way we can be together."

"No!" she cried out. Her vision started to blur at the sides. "You can't do this."

"I have to," he repeated. "But I promise, you won't feel a thing…"