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Cormia was his business. She and the Chosen. And it was about damn time he manned up.

Phury stopped short as he got to the dining room’s arch. “Bella?”

His twin’s shellan was sitting down on one of the chairs next to the sideboard, her head bent, her hand on her pregnant belly. She was breathing in little puffs.

She lifted her eyes to him and smiled weakly. “Hi.”

Oh, God. “Hi. Whatcha doing?”

“I’m fine.And before you say . . .I should be in bed . . . I’m headed there now. . . .” Her eyes shifted over to the grand staircase. “It just seems a little far away at the moment.”

For propriety’s sake, Phury had always been careful not to seek Bella’s company outside of communal meals, even before Cormia had come into the house.

Now was not the time for distance, though.

“Why don’t I carry you?”

There was a pause, and he geared himself up for her arguments. Maybe she’d at least let him take her arm—

“Yes. Please.”

Oh . . . shit. “Look at you, being all reasonable.”

He smiled, as if he weren’t completely freaking out, and went over to her. She seemed light as air as he picked her up with one arm under her legs and the other around her back. She smelled of night-blooming roses and something else. Something . . . not quite right, as if her pregnancy hormones were out of whack.

Maybe she was bleeding.

“So how are you feeling?” he asked in an amazingly calm voice while he took her to the stairs.

“The same. Tired. But the young is kicking a lot, which is good.”

“That is good.” He got to the second floor and strode down the hall of statues. As Bella laid her head on his shoulder, she shuddered a little and made him want to start running.

Just as he came up to her bedroom, the doors at the end of the corridor opened. Cormia came through them and faltered, her eyes going wide.

“Could you get this door,” he said to her.

She sprang forward and opened the way so that he could step through into the room. He headed straight for the bed and laid Bella out in the wedge created by the sheets and blankets that were folded back.

“Would you like some food?” he asked, trying to ease into the whole let’s-get-Doc-Jane thing.

Some of the old sparkle came back into her eyes. “I think that’s the problem—I just ate too much. I kicked two pints of Ben and Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Good choice, if you’re going to spoon up.” He tried to sound casual as he murmured, “So how about I call Z?”

“For what? I’m only tired. And before you ask, no, I wasn’t up for more than the hour I’ve been allotted. Don’t bother him, I’m fine.”

Maybe so, but he was still calling his twin. Just not in front of her.

He glanced over his shoulder. Cormia was standing just outside of the room, a silent, robed figure with worry on her lovely face. He turned back to Bella. “Hey, how would you like some company?”

“I would love some.” She smiled at Cormia. “I TiVo’d a Project Runway marathon and was about to watch it. You want to join me?”

Cormia’s eyes shot to his, and his pleading must have come through in what she saw. “I’m not sure what that is, but . . . yes, I would like to join you.”

As she came in, he took her arm and whispered, “I’m getting Z. If she shows any signs of distress, dial star-Z on the phone, okay? That’s him.”

Cormia nodded and said softly, “I’ll take care of her.”

Giving her arm a little squeeze, he murmured, “Thank you.”

After saying good-bye, he shut the door and went down the hall a number of yards before he dialed Z on his cell. Pick up, pick up. . . .

Voice mail.

Shit.

“That ain’t him. That ain’t him!”

Standing in the rain at the ass end of the alley next to McGrider’s, Mr. D wanted to take the slayer in front of him and use the guy as a speed bump out in the middle of Trade Street.

“What the fuck is your problem?” the lesser shot back while pointing to the civilian vampire at their feet. “This is the third male we got tonight. More than we’ve bagged in a year—”

Mr. D whipped out his switchblade. “And they’re not the one we need. So you saddle on up again and