Free The Fledgling by AE Jones Page B

their way here now.”
    “I can take her upstairs.” Misha jumped in.
    Nancy frowned. “That’s against the rules.” The outside doors swished opened, and two paramedics dashed in with a gurney. She hesitated for a second and then nodded. “Go on. They’re expecting her on floor seven.”
    Misha grasped the wheelchair handles and pushed Deanna down the hall, away from the drama unfolding behind them. When they reached the elevator bank, he punched the button and turned to face her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
    “Thanks,” she said, softly.
    The elevator dinged, doors opened, and two nurses rushed out and jogged toward the ER.
    “They must have called in reinforcements.”
    Deanna shuddered slightly. “I’m glad we’re out of there.”
    Misha rolled her into the elevator and hit the seven button. “Me, too. When we get upstairs, is there someone you want me to call? Your family, perhaps, or the baby’s father?”
    She looked at the floor. “No. I don’t have any family and…he’s no longer around.”
    His heart broke for her. “I’m sorry.”
    “Why are you helping me?” she blurted, looking up at him with shimmering eyes.
    “Because I want to. You shouldn’t be alone.”
    “Do you think Simon is okay?”
    “He woke up when the ambulance arrived at the gym, which is a good sign. Hopefully, his head wound is not too severe. I’ll go find out how he’s doing once I get you situated in maternity.”
    “Why do you think David tried to kill me?”
    He hesitated for a moment. Talia had said Deanna had not seen the demon fully transformed, but she had felt his claws. “I’m not sure why he attacked you. He had to have been deranged. He imagined he was a monster. But he can no longer hurt you.”
    “He thought he was a monster?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or he was a monster?”
    Misha opened his mouth to respond. The elevator lurched hard and stopped.
    Deanna clutched the arms of the wheelchair. “What happened?’
    “Don’t worry, we will be fine.” He smiled to ease the tension.
    She grimaced.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “My back has been bothering me since yesterday. Maybe I pulled something.”
    Misha smiled widely again, knowing it probably bordered on the maniacal, like the Joker from Batman, but he couldn’t let her see him panic. Back pain? Dear God, she’d probably been having contractions for twenty-four hours at least. He punched the elevator buttons in a useless attempt to force the elevator to start moving again.
    Of course it would stop at a time like this. Was this not the case in every television show he had ever watched? Any time a pregnant woman appeared on a show, she inevitably went into labor. In a very inconvenient place and at a very inconvenient time. And then the main characters had to deliver the baby—without the help of a doctor, of course. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a small door. Even if he could open it with his demon strength, neither of them would fit through. His telekinesis would be of no help, either. He was strong, but he wouldn’t be able to move the entire elevator.
    This is what he got for flippantly announcing to Talia he had always wanted to watch a baby being born. The Fates could be twisted bitches when they wanted to be.
    Misha’s thumb jammed hard on the red emergency button…and no alarm sounded. An expletive exploded from his lips that was quite vivid, but since it was in his mother tongue, Deanna would not know what it meant. Or so he hoped.
    Silence reigned for a moment, until Misha turned to face her.
    Deanna’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What language was that?”
    “Russian.”
    “But I thought you were Southern?”
    Misha sighed. How was he going to explain this? He spoke normally. “I am originally from Russia. But since Americans do not trust us much, I try to hide my accent.”
    Deanna smirked. “I think your Russian accent is sexy. Is your name even Michael?”
    “Yes…well, it is Mikhail, which is the Russian