Waking the same way for the third morning in a row, I rolled out of bed and raced to the bathroom. Dropping to my knees in front of the toilet, I heaved the contents of my stomach into its porcelain depths, no longer giving a damn where the waste went, just as long as it did and I didn’t have to smell it, nauseating me further. Sweat beading my forehead, I choked, then heaved again until all that came out was stomach acid, burning my throat and nostrils.
Catching my breath, I fumbled for the handle, flushing the toilet. I knew I needed to call Antonio. But the only time I ever spoke to him anymore was on the battlefield when it was necessary, ignoring him the rest of the time, even when he found where I was hiding every night to have my dinner and interrupted my solitude to sit next to me, as if I wanted him there and as if he wanted to be there, always having a one-sided conversation with himself while I zoned out and ate, not hearing a bit of his forced ramblings.
But now I needed to call him.
It had been one month since MCWWII had begun, and before that, two weeks since my memory wipe. During that entire time, I hadn’t had my period. At first, I had brushed it off as stress, but now, with the nausea in the morning, which was in no way normal for a healthy Mystical, I dreaded the worst. But dreading facts didn’t make them go away, so I washed my face and made the call asking him to bring Bindi with him to my tent.
They arrived within ten minutes, both of them appearing harried, surprised, hopeful, and even a tad worried that I had asked for their presence.
Voice as cold as a winter’s night, I stated bluntly, “I think I may be pregnant. But I don’t know how that’s possible because the last thing I remember was having a Mage tie my tubes, and I don’t remember having sex with Finn, or anyone else, any time after my last period.” Both of them appeared about ready to faint. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think I might be.”
Bindi was the fastest to recover, her face going physician-worthy. “If you had your tubes tied, I’m sure by an extremely talented medical professional, then the chances aren’t likely.” She cracked her knuckles on her right hand. “You stated you haven’t had sex since your last period, but not when the first day of your last menstrual cycle began. Can you remember when that was?”
Nice choice of wording. “The last one I remember was around eight weeks ago.”
She froze, her eyes going wide. “And you’re just now mentioning this?”
“I thought it was stress-related.”
Her nostrils flared, but she nodded once. “That is a viable reason for a missed period,” she growled, “or two.” She cracked her knuckles on her left hand. “Have you had any other symptoms?”
I nodded once. “I’ve been throwing up for the last three mornings.”
Neither said a word.
I added the kicker. “I tried to shift before you two arrived, and I couldn’t.” A pause. “In fact, that was the first time I have tried to shift since waking on the cargo ship.” I hadn’t had a need for it, fighting in my regular form since my wolf was tiny.
Antonio actually wobbled where he stood, and Bindi’s arm jerked out like it was automatic, grabbing his arm to steady him, but her attention was steadfast on me.
When neither said anything, I continued my one-sided conversation. “Is there any other possibility that explains my symptoms?”
Antonio’s gaze flew to Bindi, and she nibbled on her lip a moment, her eyebrows puckered, before she stated almost happily, “You’ve been shot a couple of times during combat with silver bullets. There may still be a fragment of the shell inside you somewhere, which fits all of these symptoms.” She nodded quickly, gesturing to my bed. “Lie down and I’ll do a scan, and if we don’t find anything, then I can do an internal exam as a last resort for pregnancy.”