Trinity Rising

 

Chapter 17 – Naomi

 

 

 

Images registered between blinks and my entire body tensed, waiting for impact.

 

The crazed smile of the demon driver who ran us off the road.

 

The Ford flashing over in a ball of flame and then turning to dust.

 

Cars swerving to avoid hitting us.

 

We spun in the air and I could no longer see the traffic behind us. I expected shattered glass and crumpling metal. I expected the jar of the seatbelt and the following whiplash. I didn’t expect what happened.

 

The vehicle completed the revolution and the tires bounced on the asphalt finding purchase and propelling us forward.

 

Cars braking around us were louder than our impact. The only sound was our collective breathing, hard and laborious, like we all had just run the hundred-yard dash.

 

“What the hell was that?” Sarah roared on the speakerphone.

 

“I hit a guardrail,” Steve answered. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he added and disconnected the call. “How the hell are they finding us?” he demanded, glaring in the rearview mirror.

 

“Damian was bitten by a hellhound earlier today,” I said and dropped my gaze to his leg. “I think that’s what the demon was referring to when he said you were marked.” I met his stark stare and then his gaze dropped to his leg as well. His expression altered and he closed his eyes.

 

“Did anyone think to grab the salt?” he asked and silence met his question.

 

“What were you going to do, pour salt in your cut?”

 

“Yes. I figure if salt keeps demons out, it might mask my whereabouts.”

 

“Do we need to stop?” Steve asked.

 

“There isn’t time,” Jennifer said.

 

The bouncing conversation along with the erratic lane changes were beginning to make me sick and I swallowed the acidic taste in my mouth.

 

“We might need to stop anyway,” Damian said and brushed a stray hair behind my ear. “Naomi needs to eat.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” I muttered, but the truth was, if I didn’t eat soon, I was going to pass out or vomit. The pizza I had before the demons attacked had long been digested and absorbed and the babies were starting to kick.

 

“You need food,” Damian said and his gaze fell on my stomach. “The dinner you ate wasn’t enough to fuel your transformation, never mind the accelerated growth of the babies.”

 

Jennifer glanced over her shoulder. “How far along are you, anyway?”

 

I laughed and met her gaze. “I’m supposed to be due in October.”

 

Her eyebrows arched and she dropped her gaze to my stomach. Her lips moving silently forming partial words before she looked back at me. “That means you’re a little less than two months?”

 

I nodded. “I was less than two months before I transformed, but I have no clue how far along I am now. And Damian thinks we’re having twins.”

 

“Triplets,” CJ and Jennifer said at the same time and I met her gaze, while Damian looked back at CJ.

 

“How do you know?” I asked Jennifer.

 

She offered me a strained smile and traded a glance with Steve. “I had a vision.”

 

Even Damian looked surprised with the answer, but he quickly recovered and his hand found my belly. He caressed my abdomen and smiled. “You need to eat, because they are still hungry.”

 

“I need to get gas anyway,” Steve mumbled and veered off the next exit. When we stopped, Damian helped me out of the car and I wobbled into the convenience store, heading directly into the bathroom.

 

“You guys have to calm down, I’m going to get something to eat just as soon as I can,” I said, rubbing the swollen skin. Once I had relieved the pressure on my bladder, the babies calmed, almost as if they shared in my relief. I shimmied the sweats back up and stepped to the sink.

 

My reflection took me by surprise and I stared at my gaunt face and ringed eyes. I hadn’t had the time to inspect what I looked like at the house, but I never imagined I looked this bad. No wonder I felt like death.

 

“Damian?” I said and the door opened.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

 

“Look at me.” I pointed to the mirror. “I look like a walking skeleton.”

 

He sighed and nodded. “I know. You need to eat.”

 

“No shit,” I responded and grabbed a paper towel, wiping my hands before tossing the crumpled paper into the garbage. “No wonder the guy at the counter looked at me like I was a fucking ghost,” I muttered and stepped out into the heart of the store.

 

As I walked by the candy shelf, a hunger pain hit and I doubled over, holding my stomach. My insides felt like a hand was squeezing, trying to make my stomach pop like a balloon and my knees gave out, hitting the hard floor. I couldn’t draw a breath.

 

I didn’t understand what was happening and I couldn’t call out.

 

J.E. Taylor's books