Magical Legacy

by Pamela M. Richter

  She had avoided using the eggs that were stored in a private lab in Hawaii. The natural way was best. But after two years of trying to have a child, she and Rod would have to take the chance that her eggs had survived the long trip from Mexico, where she was operated on without her consent.

  Omar had abducted her, taken her to a fertility hospital in Guadalajara, and the surgery was done there so he could steal her eggs and implant them in his witches. He wanted many progeny with psychic abilities, and was willing to use illegal, desperate means to reach his goal.

  Michelle’s friends had rescued her from the hospital and also managed to find her eggs and store them where Omar would never again have control of them.

  There were only five eggs. She had five chances to have a baby with Rod.

  Michelle wondered if the three eggs that were implanted in Omar’s girlfriend, Leilanie, had survived. She might actually have three biological children somewhere—an alarming thought. Those eggs had been fertilized with Omar’s sperm. The idea haunted Michelle; Omar was evil personified.

  Even after all this time, Michelle felt Omar wasn’t finished with her. He had disappeared from Hawaii. Now it was like a prickling she could feel right behind her, uncomfortably like being constantly watched and tickled by a malevolent presence. She was tired of her constant state of alert. It was like looking over your shoulder full time, expecting something awful; as though Omar would appear suddenly, and her happiness with Rod would be destroyed.

  “How’d it go?” she heard through the closed bathroom door.

  Michelle sighed. Rod was standing right outside, waiting.

  She opened the door and shook her head, her eyes cast down, not wanting to see his disappointment; not wanting him to see how sad she felt.

  “Practice makes perfect,” Rod said.

  Michelle almost smiled, and looked up at him. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. And we’ve tried a lot; not that I’m any less enthusiastic about trying. I am less optimistic, though. We might use the eggs stored at the lab.” It was the first time she’d suggested it, and Rod nodded.

  He pulled her into his arms. She could feel his lips brush the top of her head.

  “I’m afraid to do it, though,” Michelle confessed. “What if all the eggs were ruined during the time they were taken from the lab in Guadalajara and transferred here?”

  Rod pulled her chin up so he was looking directly in her eyes. “The only way to find out is to do the implant with an egg and see what happens.”

  Michelle was worried. Maybe the eggs were still intact, but what if they weren’t dead, but had been damaged somehow? She had avoided the medical treatment for just that reason. A damaged egg would probably abort spontaneously. A lost pregnancy would cause even more sadness than the negative pregnancy tests.

  Michelle had lost an ovary when she’d been violently attacked by Omar’s henchman, Samson, several years ago. Now the doctors said her chance of having a baby was almost nonexistent.

  Rod tightened his hug reassuringly, and she felt Lucifer, her cat, curl softly around her ankle. He let out a little sad sounding meow. He always understood her moods.

  Michelle sighed deeply. Rod was right. She would try the artificial insemination. She had nothing to lose, except hope. The eggs were hers, after all.

  “You’ll have to donate your sperm,” Michelle warned, looking up at Rod, relieved she’d finally made the decision. She couldn’t help but smile as she added, “They’ll put you in this little room, all alone, except for a cup and some pornographic magazines. I think they have sexy videos, too, but it might cost more.”

  Rod was laughing. “I think I can make the sacrifice.”

  Michelle nodded. “Okay. Let’s make the doctor appointments next week. We might have to do it more than once. And it’s expensive. The doctor warned me that they’d want to implant more than one egg for a better chance of pregnancy when I had the eggs stored at the lab. But since I have so few I told him, no. I’d do one at a time.”

  As they went through the hallway into the living room, Lucifer wove his way through their legs, almost tripping them. Michelle bent over and picked him up, holding him as they went out onto the balcony overlooking the beautiful view of Waikiki and the ocean.

  Their ritual was to sit and watch the sun go down into the ocean every evening, always waiting for the elusive flashing green glow when the sun disappeared.

  Lucifer bit Michelle’s nose softly, a sign of great affection, and patted her cheek with one paw before circling on her lap to find a comfortable spot to hunker. It was like he sympathized with her difficult decision to finally try artificial insemination.

  Michelle loved her condominium in Waikiki. It had a gorgeous ocean view, and it was the perfect size for her and Rod. But with a child in the future, she thought they might look into getting a larger place.

  Rod stayed with her most of the time, having quit his position as International CEO of Heroshi Corporation. He had moved to Hawaii from Japan and opened an office in Waikiki to manage several high rise properties in the downtown area. He also commuted to California several days each month to help his father manage their winery.

  Michelle worked as property manager for Heroshi Hawaii. She was content, except for that scary lurking feeling that Omar was still out there somewhere, plotting and scheming.

  Michelle, staring out at the gorgeous view of Waikiki beach, was thinking about twenty-four months of negative pregnancy test strips. It was surprising the toilet hadn’t backed up with all those plastic sticks flushed down it. At least she wouldn’t have that sadness plaguing her every month, and would now try something new and positive.

  She glanced at Rod. He had red hair, was tall and wiry, and one-half Japanese. She was also tall, almost six feet, with black hair, yellowish/green eyes, and very light skin.

  Michelle had fun wondering what their children would look like. She really didn’t care. As long as they were happy and healthy. Still, it would be interesting, and she hoped they could have several babies.

  As for the children having psychic abilities, well, who knew? The abilities skipped generations. Omar had wanted her to be the mother of his children because he believed that their combined powerful psychic capabilities would create a few with great paranormal talents.

  Michelle had been going to classes in witchcraft herself. She wanted to be prepared in case Omar hadn’t finished with his diabolical schemes. So far she’d had a lot of fun, but didn’t think the witchy spells she learned produced many positive results.

  Wiccan school was like going to a cooking class. The spells and incantations followed a particular recipe from a grimoire, or textbook of magic. It included how to make talismans and amulets; even ways to summon spirits like angels and demons.

  There was lots of paraphernalia Michelle had bought for her studies and stored in a closet. She always smiled when she saw the besom, a broom, standing in the corner. There was a sword, or athame, beautiful crystals for healing, a wand to summon spirits, a chalice or bowl traditionally used for holding wine, and a censer to dispense incense.

  Her prize of all the witchy things she used to practice her spells and incantations was Abigail, an enormous diamond. She had named the gem after a distant relative who was hanged for witchcraft in Salem, Massachusetts.

  This one artifact did have supernatural powers. Michelle didn’t know how to use the diamond, but it had saved her life and those of her friends when Omar kidnapped her and took her to Mexico. She had been able to subdue him, so that she and her friends could get away by using the diamond.

  It could also imbue her with energy when she needed it. And if Omar was still coming after her, she’d need all the supernatural energy she could muster. She wore it around her neck on a silver chain every day, hidden under her clothes. Just in case.

  Only one time had her homework from her witch schooling startled her. Unfortunately, she’d been alone using a specific formula to produce fire. She lit a candle from ac
ross the room.

  She yelped, jumping up and down in delight, but repeated tries to do it again were dismal failures. Since no one saw her do it, she never mentioned it to anyone except Heather, her best friend.

  Still, Michelle knew that locked inside her she did have paranormal abilities. She had premonitions that eerily came true. She trusted those feelings absolutely.

  Right now she knew Heather was on the way over. She could almost feel Heather’s joy, like fizzling champagne bubbles of happiness bursting from inside her friend.

  “Heather’s coming,” Michelle said, smiling at Rod. “Something good happened.”

  She sprang up, dumped Lucifer in his lap, and sprinted for the door.

  Rod laughed, “Show off!” He got up more slowly and went after her.

  Michelle could imagine Heather running down the hallway, trying to beat her to the door before she opened it. It was a game they played. Most of the time Michelle won.

  Rod knew Michelle’s predictions eerily came to pass and he expected Michelle would have the door open before Heather arrived. He’d seen her do some spectacular and surreal things when fighting her nemesis, Omar, first on the island of Kauai, and then when Omar abducted her, taking her to Mexico. So this was not a big deal. Just a lot of fun for the two friends.

  Michelle opened the door, trying to act nonchalant, leaning on the side of the doorframe as Heather, pelting as fast as she could down the hallway from her own condo, her long blond hair trailing straight out behind her, finally made it, out of breath.

  “You win. You win. And I don’t care one bit,” Heather said, jumping up and down with excitement. “Because…Look! Look! Look!”

  Heather held out her left hand right in front of Michelle’s nose, showing off a big, beautiful diamond ring.

  Then they were hugging, laughing, and both jumping up and down.

  Rod came up behind them. Heather stopped bouncing long enough to show him the ring.

  “Congratulations,” Rod said, hugging her.

  The only real surprise for Michelle was that Mike had taken so long to give the ring to Heather. She’d known their marriage was inevitable.

  “Mike’s on the way over,” Heather said. “He’s calling Vincent to tell him the news and invite him to the wedding.”

  Vincent was a professor of the paranormal at Stanford University in California. He’d been a great help to Michelle in the past when she’d had to fight Omar. Vincent was a good friend to them all.

  Mike came inside the apartment a couple of minutes later, grinning, holding a huge champagne bottle in one hand, glass wine flutes in the other.

  Michelle hugged him and then the two guys slapped shoulders and backs, like good male buddies do.

  “I’m gonna pop this sucker,” Mike said. He put the glasses on the living room table and used his thumb on the bottle top. The cork hit the ceiling with a satisfyingly loud, explosive bang.

  Michelle ran to get her cell phone so she could take pictures. Then she detoured into the kitchen to get sparkling apple juice for herself. She never drank alcohol.

  When she got back into the living room, Mike had poured the champagne. Michelle filled her own glass with apple juice.

  Mike held his glass high above his head. “Here is a very special toast to our two best friends.”

  Mike took a sip of his wine, then held up his crystal glass a second time, waiting for everyone’s attention, “To Michelle, our good friend and soon to be Heather’s Maid of Honor at our wedding. And here’s to Rod, our friend and my Best Man for the wedding.”

  Michelle took pictures, lots of pictures. She wanted to remember this happy day.

  The four decided to celebrate and went to their favorite restaurant in Waikiki, Hula Grill Waikiki, at the Outrigger Hotel, ordering lobster and crab legs. They sat on the outside patio, looking at the gorgeous view for a long time after the meal, too full and lazy to move, drinking coffee and watching the ocean.

  Mike said, “Vincent will be coming. He said to let him know as soon as we had the date set.”

  “Yeah, you haven’t told us yet,” Michelle said. “When and where?”

  “I hope you don’t mind Michelle, but we want to have it outside, maybe on the beach,” Heather said. Her reluctance was because when Omar kidnapped Michelle, he also drugged her and married her on the beach on the windward side of Oahu. Having the marriage annulled had been a huge legal problem, particularly since Omar had disappeared.

  “I still can’t remember much about Omar marrying me on that beach. And I don’t care where you two get hitched. Outdoor weddings are awesome,” Michelle said.

  “We’re trying to find out if we can do it on the top of Diamond Head,” Mike said.

  “Whoa, that’d be great,” Rod said.

  Later that night, after the dinner, as Rod and Michelle were getting ready for bed, Michelle spread out all the pictures she had taken of Heather and Mike on the bed so she could look at them.

  They made a beautiful couple. Heather was tiny, with long straight blond hair and big blue eyes. She had been a model, and still worked in that field occasionally, but now behind the camera. She also owned some property on Oahu that she managed.

  Mike was a TV weather reporter with a great on-camera persona. He was part Hawaiian, with dark eyes and unruly black hair.

  Rod came into the bedroom and looked down at the pictures.

  “We should get married, too,” he said. “First you had to wait until your marriage to Omar was annulled. Now you want to wait to see if you can have children. But that’s your idea, not mine.”

  “You said you wanted a family,” Michelle said, trying to sound reasonable.

  “You’re my family already.”

  Michelle took a deep breath. They’d been over this a million times. “I’m happy with the way things are right now.”

  Rod swept the pictures off the bed into a pile and placed them on the dresser. “These are great pictures. Heather and Mike are perfect together. And we will be too.”

  “You want to marry an alcoholic, infertile woman, who was married to a supernaturally psychic madman?”

  “That marriage was against your consent.”

  That was certainly true. Michelle had only vague memories of the beach at night, wearing a satin gown, and saying ‘I do,’ just because she had a great will to live and believed Omar might kill her if she didn’t.

  She feared Omar might try to harm Rod if she married him. It wasn’t something she was willing to discuss with Rod because it sounded so strange. But it had been like a nagging warning in her mind ever since Rod had moved to Hawaii. She trusted her intuitions.

  “So you don’t want to marry me?” Rod said, seeing her alarmed expression and not understanding.

  Now things were getting too sensitive, Michelle thought. “You’re my family, too. I want to live with you forever. A piece of paper doesn’t make any difference.”

  “But it’s practical. If anything happened to me, I’m a wealthy guy. I want you to have all my stuff.”

  Michelle looked at him in surprise, then started laughing. “I should marry you for your money? And what do you get? As I said: divorced, infertile, alcoholic...”

  Rod shook his head and broke in. “I get a gorgeous, magical, witchy woman, with yellow/green eyes and supernatural powers, whose babies will be beautiful and fun. Besides which, you’re awfully good in bed. And I happen to be possessive. I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Michelle said as she pulled extra pillows off the bed and threw them on the floor. Lucifer always chose one to ensconce himself on for sleeping.

  “Damn right,” Rod said.

  “But we don’t want to steal Heather’s and Mike’s thunder. We can decide after they get married.”

  “Are you putting it off again?” Rod asked.

  Michelle sighed and shook her head. She wanted to marry Rod more than anything in the world, but that nagging fear that something might happen to him
always stopped her. She couldn’t put off the most important thing in her life because of fear.

  “We will get married. I want to,” Michelle said as she started undressing.

  “I have to find a ring,” Rod said as he watched her remove her blouse, noting the huge diamond hanging on a silver chain around her neck. “There isn’t a diamond in the world that could compete with Abigail. I hate the fact that Omar gave it to you.”

  “A plain gold band will be perfect.”

  “I’m thinking maybe a ruby or a sapphire might be better than a diamond, anyway.”

  Michelle smiled. “Okay. I love colorful stones. Diamonds are beautiful, but cold as ice. You can surprise me.”

  Chapter 4

  Ever since the Easter Egg Hunt last Sunday, the three little girls had begged Leilanie for another egg hunting game. The back of the mansion was a safe private place for the girls to play, as it was enclosed by a high stone barrier.

  Leilanie was hiding marbles there because she didn’t want to boil and color any more eggs. The cooks said they had more hard boiled eggs than anyone could ever use.

  The reward for the game was that the girl who found the most marbles would get to pick an after-dinner dessert. Leilanie knew the two dark eyed girls, Ivory and Petal, would want ice cream. If Shelly won, she would demand chocolate truffles.

  Leilanie had just finished planting all the marbles under bushes, in flower beds, and in the lower branches of the trees, when three police officers wearing official dark blue uniforms, black belts, and caps with formal police insignia, came through the thick stone gate into the back yard.

  At almost the same time, Shelly, Petal, and Ivory ran out of the house and over to Leilanie, jumping up and down in anticipation of the hide-and-seek game with marbles.

  Leilanie stood in shock as the policemen walked over to her. Feelings of doom sped through her mind, and an electrical shock zipped down her spine. Would they deport Omar? Had the police in their insignificant little French town finally bowed to pressure from the official indictments in Hawaii? Would she and Omar lose everything?