Page 57 of Tossed into the Mob
I peered at it at one end and then the other. “Does it have a gun or a knife? A poison pill? No wait, it’s a transmitter.”
Placing it close to my mouth, I said, “Testing, testing. This is Agent Tiny Bump. Come in.”
Treyton played along. “This is Agent Overprotective. I hear you loud and clear.”
“I’m supposed to be pregnant for this mission. Oh wait, I am.” I giggled, and my mate joined in.
Flint did not laugh, he rolled his eyes and snatched back the USB. “I’m wondering whether I’ve made a mistake trusting you two with this.” He waved the USB under our noses. “It just has a huge memory. There’s no gun or knife secreted inside.”
“Sorry,” we chorused. We held hands and reined in our banter.
Both Treyton and I had a part to play in this scenario.
"The appointment is scheduled for this afternoon. Dr. Gasper thinks you're there for a routine consultation about potential complications with a shifter pregnancy."
"What's our contingency plan if something goes wrong?" Treyton asked.
"Hunter will be in the parking lot with his men. Ranger will have his guys stationed at the clinic's exits. If things go sideways, you get out immediately and let us handle the rest."
Treyton drove us to the clinic in silence, with one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee. My belly flip-flopped as we got out and strode toward the modern building. A wave of nausea clawed at my belly that had nothing to do with the baby, but rather that this doctor was not only trafficking babies and omegas, but making a huge profit.
"Are you sure about this?" Treyton asked before we buzzed the intercom.
“No," I admitted. "But I'm doing it anyway."
He kissed me. "I love you and I'm proud of you, and if everything goes sideways, I’ll shift.”
The waiting room reminded me of an upmarket spa on TV with the walls painted subtle colors, soft music, plants, and smiling assistants.There was a small fountain in the corner, and I had an urge to pee. The cloying scent of jasmine hung in the air, and I coughed because it was overpowering.
“He should be arrested for that aroma alone,” I whispered.
The receptionist welcomed us, and I filled in a form on the tablet they gave me. We didn’t have to wait long, so my knee didn’t have time to bounce up and down, though Treyton would have calmed me with his touch.
Dr. Gasper appeared to be in his mid-forties. He paid little attention to me initially but eyed Treyton, probably sussing out he was a wolf, like him.
"I understand you're concerned about some potential complications with your pregnancy?"
I opened my mouth to begin the lies I’d prepped, but it was Treyton who launched into his prepared story. First he rambled about being suspicious of doctors.
“No offense, Doc.”
Gasper’s smile tightened. I suspected he prided himself on people being deferential and didn’t enjoy my mate’s informal tone.
Treyton took my hand and held it to his cheek. “But what do I know? I sell shoes.”
“Quite.”
My mate was very convincing, telling the doctor how concerned he was for the baby and me.
Gasper steepled his hands, and the ring he wore on his right hand glinted in the light streaming in from outside.
“There can be complications in a human-shifter pregnancy. Have you experienced any unusual symptoms such as heightened senses?”
My senses of smell and sight couldn’t be compared to a shifter’s, but they were always more enhanced than some humans, probably thanks to my shifter father.They had intensified a little since I’d been pregnant which I chalked up to hormones or just being around shifters.
“Some,” I admitted. “My sense of smell is stronger than it used to be.”
He looked up at me with what might have been sympathy on anyone else's face, but it creeped me out. “These pregnancies can be very dangerous. There's a higher risk of complications during delivery, and infant mortality rates are significantly elevated.”
