31. Gertrude

31

GERTRUDE

T he music swelled around Gertrude and Rob as they swayed on the dance floor. It had been a wonderful ceremony, unique in that the Clan Mother had united a mortal and an immortal, something that was unheard of in the clan.

Watching Marina and Peter together, it was easy to see that they were meant for each other, and Gertrude had to wonder why the Fates were being so cruel to Peter.

Why had they found him a truelove mate who couldn't be his lifelong companion?

She consoled herself that the Fates worked in mysterious ways and that they might have a plan for Marina that no one could even guess at the moment.

As Rob once again tried to steer them toward where Margo was dancing with Negal, Gertrude shifted her attention to doing the opposite and pulling in another direction.

It wasn't that she harbored any lingering romantic feelings for Negal, but being around him still made her uncomfortable, stirring up old memories of being cast aside the moment he'd found his true mate in Margo.

She would have to get over that discomfort, though.

Now that she and Rob were talking about moving in together, family gatherings would be inevitable. Rob would want to host his sister and her mate for dinner or movie nights, and Gertrude would have to find a way to enjoy Negal's company without letting her resentment ruin the family dynamic.

Family.

It was strange to even think in those terms. For the longest time, the only ones she'd considered family were her mother and her best friend, Hildegard. Now that things were getting serious between her and Rob, his sister and her mate would become her family as well.

In a way, they already had, but she'd kept an emotional barrier between herself and Negal that would have to come down at some point.

As Rob's steps began to falter, guilt washed over her. She'd been so caught up in her own thoughts that she'd forgotten he was still human and couldn't keep up with her immortal stamina .

Worry niggled at her that he would need another induction because he wasn't showing signs of transition, and even though they still might start manifesting later today or tomorrow, she was already thinking of who should be his next inducer.

She might ask Dagor.

As a full-blooded god, his venom was potent, and he was more approachable than Aru or Toven. Negal would no doubt say yes to her request out of sheer guilt, but she didn't want him to be Rob's inducer. It might be petty of her, and if he were the best option out there or the only one, she would swallow her pride and ask him, but as long as there were other alternatives that were just as good or better, she didn't have to.

"Let's take a break," Gertrude suggested, squeezing Rob's hand. "We should get something to eat. Have you seen what the Odus have prepared? There are like twenty different dishes for every taste and preference possible."

"I could use a rest," Rob admitted.

He let her lead him off the dance floor, practically collapsing into one of the chairs arranged around the tables near the buffet. "But I'm not really hungry."

"You should eat something." She frowned at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I'll fix you a plate."

"Okay." He reached for the pitcher of water on the table with a slightly trembling hand. "Can you bring me some water?"

She frowned at the odd request. "There's water right here," she pointed to the pitcher in his hand. "But I can get you something stronger if you'd like."

"No, water's fine." He poured himself a glass, some of it sloshing over the side.

Could it be that he was starting to transition?

She pressed her palm to his forehead. "You don't have a fever, but the rest of your symptoms might indicate the start of your transition."

Rob crossed his fingers. "I hope so. I definitely feel off, and it's not just from the dancing, so you might be right."

"Maybe we should get you to the clinic?—"

"Not yet. Even if you are right and I'm transitioning, there's plenty of time." He smiled. "Go get something to eat. I'm not about to faint or anything."

She wasn't entirely convinced of that, but the buffet line was close enough that she could keep an eye on him. "Promise you'll tell me if you start feeling worse?"

"Promise." He lifted his water glass in a mock toast. "I'll just sit here and take it easy."

As Gertrude joined the buffet line, she glanced back at Rob every few seconds, and each time, he waved and smiled, so the urgency started to wane. Not every Dormant lost consciousness, and those who didn't also didn't require much care. Perhaps Rob was one of the lucky ones who would transition easily.

When it was finally her turn, she loaded two plates with an assortment of dishes, making sure to include things she knew Rob liked. When she turned back toward their table, though, Rob wasn't in his chair.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, thinking he might have gotten up to speak with someone. Then she spotted him—sprawled on the grass beside his abandoned chair, unnoticed by the celebrating guests around him.

The plates clattered onto the table as she rushed to his side. His chest rose and fell steadily, but when she tried to wake him, he didn't respond. He was unconscious, and his skin felt hot to the touch.

Without hesitation, she gathered him into her arms and started toward the clinic, but then Bowen rushed to her.

"Let me," he said, already reaching for Rob.

She wanted to refuse—her immortal strength more than adequate to carry Rob—but there were other considerations, with Rob's pride being one of them.

He wouldn't like his transition story to start with his mate carrying him to the clinic.

His mate .

Was she? Was he hers ?

As Bowen took Rob from her arms, Margo finally noticed the commotion and ran over, her face pale with concern. "What's wrong? Is Rob transitioning?"

"That's what it looks like," Gertrude said. "Go get Bridget."

Margo nodded and sprinted to look for the doctor.

Thankfully, the clinic was a short walking distance away, and since the door was never locked, Gertrude just pushed it open and held it for Bowen. "This way." She pointed him toward the first patient room.

"It's a good sign that he's transitioning so soon after the induction," Bowen said as he laid him on the bed. "Am I right?"

"I hope you are. Every transitioning Dormant is different." She sighed. "On the one hand, I'm glad that it's happening and he doesn't have to be induced again, but on the other hand, I'm terrified."

Bowen nodded. "I know how you feel. But as you and all the docs have kept telling everyone, we haven't lost a single Dormant yet, so we shouldn't worry, right?"

She chuckled. "It's much easier to say when it's not the one you love who is transitioning."

The Guardian's eyes widened. "Love, eh? You two moved fast."

She shrugged. "When it's right, it's right. "

Bowen chuckled. "I won't argue with that."

Rob's breathing remained steady, but his temperature seemed to be climbing with every passing second, and his skin felt like it was on fire.

"Do you need my help to undress him?" Bowen offered.

"Thank you, but I can do that." She smiled at him. "I've been a nurse for a very long time."

He nodded. "Do you need me for anything else, or can I go back to the party?"

"Go. You were a great help. Thank you."

After Bowen left, Gertrude undressed Rob, put a hospital gown on him, and covered him with a sheet. She was about to duck into the back room and exchange her party dress for some scrubs when the clinic door opened, and Bridget walked in with Margo and Negal.

"How long has he been unconscious?" the doctor asked, already checking Rob's vital signs.

"About ten minutes," Gertrude said. "He only started manifesting symptoms less than half an hour before that—fatigue, tremors, fever."

"Pulse is rapid but strong," Bridget murmured, more to herself than her audience. "Breathing regularly. Classic onset pattern."

"It happened so fast," Margo said. "Is that normal?"

"For males, it usually happens faster than for females." Bridget pulled out a stethoscope from the drawer and started listening to Rob's chest. "The speed of onset doesn't necessarily indicate anything about how the transition itself will progress, but it is a good sign."

Bridget was being cautious, but Gertrude knew from experience that the faster the onset, the faster the change was going to happen. For males, it meant that their venom glands and fangs grew more rapidly, which was more painful.

"You should wait in the waiting room," Bridget told Margo and Negal. "Gertrude needs to connect Rob to the monitoring equipment." She shooed them out.

As Gertrude moved to comply, Rob's eyes fluttered open. "What happened?" he slurred.

The fact that he woke up was another good sign. Dormants who slipped in and out of consciousness had an easier time transitioning than those who were fully unconscious for the entire time.

"You're transitioning." She cupped his cheek and smiled. "Everything's going to be okay."

He managed a weak smile. "Told you I wasn't about to faint."

"Technically, you did faint." She couldn't help but smile back, relief making her a bit giddy.

"Oh, bummer." His eyes slipped closed again.

Gertrude pressed a kiss to his burning forehead. "Rest now. I'll be right here when you wake up. "

"Love you," he mumbled before unconsciousness claimed him again.

"I love you too," she whispered, though he couldn't hear her.