Page 18 of The Brotherhood

And his upgrade question. What did he mean by that? Maybe she could approach telling him her condition that way. She kind of did get an upgrade. Just not an AI one.

She lifted her head as they entered a room filled with equipment she didn't recognize. Her heart rate shot up. “Will they check the baby?”

His harsh green eyes landed right on her, the brutal glint easing up a little. “You’ll get a full set of tests,” he said, his words sharp.

Beth’s heart hammered as they guided her toward a looming machine, its dark metal contoured to fit around a torso. It looked like the kind of equipment that extracted answers, not provided healing. She just wanted to know the baby was okayand all his jolting movements weren’t because he was in some kind of distress.

They positioned her on a narrow bed, tilting her back slightly until she was reclined, not fully lying flat but angled enough that she felt precarious. Her hands clenched as they fastened padded metal bands around her wrists and ankles, securing her firmly into place.

The hard surface of the bench pressed against her spine, and the frame began closing over her body, its cold steel only inches from her chest and pinning her in place. She tried to shift, encountering tight restraints, putting every nerve in her body on high alert.

A low hum thrummed against her skin, turning her breaths shallow. Her mind raced as the bands around her limbs began to warm, like they were syncing with her pulse, reading her response. A faint pressure on her arm made her jump.

“Stop.”

The command came from behind, stilling the tech immediately. Her tattooed host stepped forward, his tall, imposing form just to her right. He scanned her face, eyes sharp as glass before softening ever so slightly.

The tech’s attempt at words got shot down when he turned a glare on him. “She’s not here to be dissected,” he said, his voice low.

Beth felt a mix of relief at his kind… mean threat. It steadied her.

He moved closer, standing within her line of sight as the machine resumed its humming. “Look at me,” he said, his voice softer but commanding.

She met his gaze, realizing he was giving it for support. She took it while the hum of the machine returned, locking her focus on the calm steel of his expression.

“You’re going to feel pressure, but it’s normal,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers as though daring her to doubt him. “Don’t resist. Let the machine do its work.”

She took a shaky breath, nodding, though her fingers still curled tightly against the restraints. “And… and the baby?”

His gaze flickered with a brief spark. “The machine will account for it,” he said, his tone hinting at something she couldn’t place.

Though the intensity was dialed down, the sensation of warmth still crept through her body, latching onto her heartbeat, syncing with every breath. The lead tech moved about the machine as a faint buzzing sensation passed through her chest and core, almost like an invisible hand pressing against her.

Sinrik stayed by her side, arms folded as he watched her face, reading every flicker of fear or discomfort with unyielding focus.

The baby jerked around, bringing a jolt of panic. Was the scan hurting him?

“Elevated fetal brain activity detected,” one of the techs announced, his voice clinical. “Gamma levels and neural indicators suggest advanced cognitive function.”

Sinrik’s eyes remained locked on hers. “Explain further,” he commanded.

“High gamma waves indicate intelligence far beyond typical development,” another said with indifference. “Cognitive processing levels suggest highly advanced awareness.”

Beth fought to keep her expression neutral even while her mind and heart raced with this information. Their baby was developing faster? Smarter?

She eyed the tech to her left who was focused on the screen. “Foreign enzyme detected in maternal and baby’s bloodstream. Elevated compounds resembling properties found in predator species.”

Predator species? Panic shot her pulse up. “What does that mean?” she whispered.

His attention sharpened on her. “Source?” he demanded the tech.

“Likely introduced through recent exposure… origin appears to be saliva,” the tech said.

“Were you recently bitten by anything?” her begrudged captor asked.

Bishop. “A… I was bit by a... bat,” she said, swallowing, holding his gaze that now dug deeper, searching.

The machine shifted, its lights dimming before a new pulse traveled across her abdomen. The warm pressure deepened, as if probing through each layer of tissue. “Growth indicators for fetus exceed standard gestational markers,” a tech reported. “Measurements approaching the end of the second trimester.”

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