Chapter 123 Ch. 93
“Are we having a fight that I am not aware of?”
Ivanna stared at the message for a long second, her thumb hovering over the send button. Heaving a sigh, she sent it and shut her phone, dropping it face down before she could overthink the message. She didn’t expect a reply, though. She hadn’t heard from Dylan in three days now. It was like he had simply vanished into thin air, leaving her with a hollow feeling in her chest that was slowly turning into a physical ache.
She had gone to his house twice, but there was no one home. When she even took the spare key from where he kept it and checked inside, it looked empty, like no one had been there in days. She had texted Lorenzo earlier on, but no response either.
“Hey, Annabel, are you okay?” her boss asked, leaning over her desk with a look of concern.
Ivanna looked up, even though she was still not used to her new name. The room decided to start spinning just then. She blinked a few times, trying to focus on his face, but everything looked blurry. She had been feeling sick since forever—or at least that was how it felt. Her head was constantly throbbing, she was having stomach pains all the time, and she also felt like she could collapse at any moment. But still, she forced herself to show up to work because there was nothing else to do at home.
If only Dylan would pick up his damn calls. Maybe then, he would have done something about it.
“I’m fine,” she lied, avoiding his eyes. She wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with her, but the emotional ache made it ten times worse.
“You’ve been as white as that paper for the last few days,” he said with a sigh, pulling her up from her desk. “I’m not taking chances because next thing we know, Neon 24 overworks their writers.”
She should have laughed at the statement because she found it funny, but she didn’t have the strength to.
“I’ll drive you to a hospital.”
“I’m fine, really,” she started, but then she almost fell so that he had to hold her steady.
“You’re not fine. Let’s go.”
Ivanna wanted to tell him that a hospital wouldn’t be able to help with whatever was off with her, but she didn’t even have the energy to speak. She let him lead her out to his car, her feet dragging on the carpet. The drive felt like forever, even though the hospital was only a few blocks away.
Inside, the hospital made Ivanna feel uneasy and even more nauseous, especially with the smell of disinfectant everywhere. She was led to a small room with white curtains while her boss waited outside. A few minutes later, a doctor was in front of her.
“Hello there.” The doctor gave her a smile that put her at ease just a little bit. There was a nurse behind her and what seemed to be a resident. “How do you feel?”
“Like I should die,” she chuckled dryly. “Headache—aspirin doesn’t work... I just feel generally weak... and nauseous too.”
“There are a number of factors that can cause that, but we will run some tests. We'll take your vitals and let you know.”
“Can I lie down?” she asked, her eyes feeling heavy. “While you take the tests or whatever?”
“Of course.”
She was conscious throughout the tests, but she was not really there at the same time. She knew each time a new machine was being strapped to her, or whenever a needle pierced her skin, but her brain was not really processing what was going on. All she knew was that she lay on that bed for hours.
“We’ve taken your blood—” Ivanna’s eyes shot open suddenly at the sound of the doctor's voice. “—but I want to run one more specific test,” the doctor said, clicking her pen. She gestured for the nurse to bring over a small plastic cup.
“A urine test?” Ivanna asked, frowning at the cup. She felt too tired to even argue.
“I want to check your hormone levels. Specifically, I’d like to see if you’re pregnant,” the doctor explained.
“That’s impossible,” Ivanna said, shaking her head slowly. The movement made the room tilt again. “I’ve had my period every month. Plus, I don’t even have a bump. I’m just... sick. And it’s been a long while since I’ve had sex, to be honest.”
“Sometimes the body can be very good at hiding things, especially under stress,” the doctor replied, helping her sit up.
Ivanna didn’t have the energy to fight her. She did what she was told and then slumped back onto the thin hospital mattress, closing her eyes. The smell of the room was making the nausea worse. A while later—she wasn’t sure how long—the doctor came back. She looked at the chart in her hands and then back at Ivanna with a look that made Ivanna’s stomach drop.
“The test came back positive, Annabel,” the doctor said, pulling a stool over to sit beside the bed.
“Positive? Like, a little bit pregnant?” Ivanna asked, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in her throat.
“You’re about four months along,” the doctor said, ignoring the joke.
Ivanna froze. The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. “Four months? That’s... I would know. I would feel it. I’ve been having my period every month!”
“It’s called a cryptic pregnancy. Your body hasn't shown the typical signs, and that bleeding wasn’t a real period,” the doctor explained, reaching out to touch her arm. “But that’s not the only thing. Your heart rate is dangerously low. We call it bradycardia.”
Ivanna said nothing. At least she knew the doctor was wrong about that one. She was supposed to be dead—that explained the low heart rate—but Dylan had made sure she survived.
“Your heart isn't pumping enough oxygen-rich blood to your brain, which explains the fainting and the blurring,” the doctor said, her expression turning very serious. “Given how far along you are and the state of your heart, we need to admit you immediately.”
Ivanna looked at the white curtain. Four months. She had been carrying Dylan’s baby for four months, and she hadn’t even known. And Dylan was gone.
“I need my phone,” she said, her voice trembling.
“You need to rest, Anna,” the doctor urged, pressing a hand to her shoulder.
“I need to try to call him again,” she insisted, more to herself than the doctor. She reached for her bag with shaky hands and dialed his number one more time. Still no answer.
“I don’t want to be admitted,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“You are not stable enough to make that decision right now,” the doctor said.
“No... but I need to... I—” she paused, her hand flying to her head as a wave of dizziness struck her. The doctor gave her a deadpan stare. “Do you have any family... anything at all?”
Her eyes lit up just then and she picked up her phone again. “Can I have a moment alone?” Ivanna asked, looking at the doctor with pleading eyes.
The doctor hesitated for a second, glancing at the charts, before she gave a small nod and gestured for the nurse and resident to follow her out. Ivanna waited until the door clicked shut and the sound of their footsteps faded down the hall. She scrolled through her contacts, her vision blurring as she found the name she was looking for. She hit the call button and pressed the phone against her ear, praying he would pick up.
“Hello?” Marcus’s voice sounded tired on the other end.
“Marcus, it’s me,” Ivanna said, her voice coming out in a thin whisper.
“Ivanna? Where have you been? I have not heard from you in a while,” Marcus said, his tone shifting to one of concern.
“I’m at the hospital,” she said, closing her eyes as the room started to tilt again. “Marcus... I’m pregnant. The doctor says I’m four months along.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Ivanna could hear the sound of her own shallow breathing.
“Four months?” Marcus finally asked. “Does Dylan know? It’s his, right?”
“I can’t find him,” she sobbed, a jagged breath escaping her throat. “He’s been missing for a few days. I didn't want to tell you because you’re the police and there’s nothing you guys can do. Especially if Lorenzo is behind it. I don’t want to make things worse for him.”
“Yeah, police is a bad idea,” Marcus said quickly. “Where are you?”
“The hospital... um, Saint Ives... they won't let me leave,” she said, clutching the phone tighter. “They say my heart rate is too low. They want to admit me. They don’t understand it’s... I’m not, you know... human.”
“I am going to Lorenzo’s house right now,” Marcus told her. “I will find out what is going on. I’ll bring help, Ivanna. Just try to stay calm.”
“Please hurry,” she whispered.
She ended the call and let the phone slide from her hand onto the bed. The exhaustion hit her harder than before, pulling her down into a dark, heavy sleep before she could even pull the blanket over her shoulders.
Ivanna woke up to the sound of a steady beep-beep-beep coming from a machine near her head. The light in the room was dim, and the smell of disinfectant was so strong it made her throat feel dry. She tried to move her hand, but it felt heavy, and she realized there was an IV line taped to her skin.
“You’re awake,” Marcus said.
Ivanna blinked, her eyes focusing on him. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his jacket wrinkled and his face looking haggard. Beside him stood Imogen, her arms crossed over her chest and a look on her face that made Ivanna’s stomach drop.
“Where is Dylan?” Ivanna asked, her voice sounding raspy. She tried to sit up, but the world spun in a slow, sickening circle.
“Lorenzo is dead,” Imogen said, her voice flat and devoid of any emotion.
Ivanna froze, her breath catching in her lungs. “Dead? How?”
“The mansion was attacked,” Imogen explained, stepping closer to the bed. “A rival clan used a poison called Aeuthrin. It was laced with something magical. Lorenzo didn't stand a chance.”
“Is Ethan okay? And Zara?” Ivanna asked, her mind racing to catch up. She wanted to ask about Dylan first, but she was scared of what the answer was going to be.
“They are alive,” Imogen said, walking over to the monitor and staring at the jagged lines. “Ethan is leading the clan now. Zara is with him. But things are a mess, Ivanna. The house is half in ruins.”
“And Dylan?” Ivanna asked, her voice trembling.
“He is in the east wing of the mansion,” Marcus said, looking down at his boots. “He was hit by the poison too. He is in a coma, Ivanna. He is alive, but he isn't waking up.”
Ivanna felt a sob build in her chest, a hot, burning pain that made it hard to breathe. She thought about the days she had spent angry at him for not calling, while he was lying there dying.
“I need to be with him,” she gasped, reaching for the tape on her arm. “I have to go to him.”
“You should be in a coma too,” Imogen said, her eyes snapping to Ivanna’s face.
“What?” Ivanna asked, her hand stopping mid-air.
“You are tied to him,” Imogen said, walking closer until she was standing right beside the bed. “The bond between a vampire and the person they have marked is not just emotional. It is a physical link. When he is dying, he drains the life from you to try and stay anchored to this world. By all the laws of magic, you should be unconscious right now, your heart failing just like his.”
“Then why am I awake?” Ivanna whispered, her eyes wide with terror.
“You are with child,” Imogen said, gesturing toward Ivanna’s stomach. “The life inside you is definitely a hybrid. You being alive means you conceived while you were still human. It has a spark that neither of you possess on your own. It is feeding you even as Dylan pulls from you. It is the only reason you are alive.”
Ivanna looked down at her flat stomach, her hands shaking as she pressed them against the thin hospital gown. She felt a wave of grief so huge it threatened to swallow her whole. She was carrying Dylan’s baby—a child that was fighting to keep her alive while its father was fading away in a different room.
“I can’t do this,” Ivanna sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t lose him now. I...”
Marcus moved to the side of the bed and rested a hand on her shoulder, but he didn't say anything. There were no words that could fix the fact that her world had ended while she was completely unaware.
“I have to go to the house,” Ivanna said through her tears. “I don't care about the doctors. I don't care about the risk. I am not staying here.”
“We will—” Suddenly, Imogen went completely still. Her head snapped toward the door, her eyes narrowing until they were just thin slits. The bored expression she usually wore vanished, replaced by a look of pure, cold alarm.
“What is it?” Marcus asked.
“Something is wrong,” Imogen whispered.