The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2)

by Karen Ranney

  My phone rang, earning me more than one annoyed look from around the table. My phone hadn’t worked since the doctor’s office. Nor was there anyone I wanted to talk to outside of this room.

  I rejected the call without looking. I stuffed it back into my pocket as Dan began the meeting.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said. “We’re well represented tonight.” He began the introductions, surprising me by rattling off names and territories with ease. Who knew, a witch’s territory was called a diocese. He referred to the women’s covens with the terminology my grandmother used: sisters of the faith.

  The woman with the piercing blue eyes and the updo of blond hair was from Houston, representing three dioceses. A plump, middle aged woman with mousy brown hair was from Dallas. Evidently, she had twelve dioceses under her command.

  “Were the witches responsible for the destruction of Hermonious Brown’s book store?" I asked.

  The woman from Dallas narrowed her eyes and tried to pin me in the chair. I'd had a bad day. I wasn't in any mood for intimidation.

  "Is that of any importance in this discussion?"

  That response meant they’d caused it. I hope to God he’d had a good adjuster.

  I stared at my grandmother. She was the first to drop her gaze.

  "Perhaps it would be better if I recused myself," she said.

  "No,” I said. “That's not necessary. I know, more than anyone, how dispassionate you can be."

  She looked away and guilt nipped at me. I wasn’t used to being rude to Nonnie.

  My phone rang again. This time Dan stared at me. I gave him an apologetic smile and reached to turn off my phone.

  And stopped.

  My hand got sweaty. My heart began to pound heavily in my chest, moving to a whopping fifteen beats a minute, but I felt a surge of nausea that almost sickened me right there at the table.

  Charlie moved, pressing his nose between my knees, looking up at me with concern in his brown eyes.

  I knew that number - Dr. Stallings.

  Maddock was calling me.

  I think I lost it for a moment. I allowed panic to overwhelm me before I swept it up and dropped it in a dust pan out a figurative window. I was not going to be terrified by Niccolo Maddock ever again.

  That ship had sailed.

  That dog wouldn’t hunt.

  In full view of the witches, I clicked the button and spoke into the phone.

  “You son of a bitch. What do you want?”

  My voice was low and growly. Charlie’s ears folded back against his head. My hands began to warm.

  “I didn’t tell him. Marcie, I didn’t tell him,” Dr. Stallings said, her voice quavering.

  I’d never heard the doctor cry before, but she could weep buckets and I wouldn’t be able to summon an iota of compassion. She’d betrayed me.

  “You had me locked in your office. You knew what he wanted. What was I, some damn sacrifice?”

  “I didn’t tell him.”

  Her voice was shaking. Much like I’d been shaking in her office. Was she scared? I hoped she was.

  “Then how did he know I’d be there?”

  Did I have another tracking beacon on me somewhere?

  “Not that. I told him you’d be there, Marcie, but I didn’t tell him about the other.”

  “The other what?”

  I was getting ready to hang up on her. I would have liked to have thrown the phone across the room for good measure, but Dan had given it to me. Note to self: buy my own phone so I can destroy it when I was super pissed like now.

  “I didn’t tell him you were pregnant.”

  All the heat went out of my hands. My stomach, however, was quivering, as if I’d been sick for hours and it was crying uncle.

  The air got strange, almost heavy, as it surrounded me in a curious bubble. I couldn’t hear anything. I knew that if I said something, the words would disappear into a soundless void.

  I stared down at Charlie. His ears resumed their normal position, but I could swear there was worry in those soulful brown eyes. Could Opie affect Charlie’s physiology? How much of what I was seeing was Opie and how much Charlie? Another question for the ages.

  “Marcie?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it, realizing I either needed to speak or hang up. Without doing either, I slid the phone into my pocket, looked around the table and met several pairs of eyes. I don’t think I actually saw anyone, even though I nodded several times. Finally, I gained some control over my body, stood, and calmly made my way to the faux iron studded wood door.

  The Witches of the Round Table were going to have to continue without me.

  “Come, Charlie,” I said, grateful when ghost dog instantly came to stand at my side.

  I’d never fainted before in my entire life. I was not a Southern Belle, but at this exact moment, I knew there was every possibility I was going to collapse. I didn’t want it witnessed by the most powerful witches in the Southwest.

  I glanced back at Dan who was frowning at me.

  Pregnant? Okay, maybe I could process that information, given enough time, but there was one problem as I saw it.

  Who was the father?

  A five hundred year old vampire who could easily start foaming at the mouth any moment or the grandson of a man who wanted to create an homogenized human race?

  “Marcie?”

  Dan was half rising, no doubt to come after me. I waved my hand in his general area.

  I couldn’t think of an explanation for deserting the meeting set up for the sole purpose of keeping me safe. There were times when words didn’t work. I felt like screaming, but I could imagine what that would do to thirteen on edge witches.

  I couldn’t be pregnant. It was too soon. Had my screwy Pranic, Dirugu metabolism accelerated things? What about Nonnie’s potion?

  One man’s normal is another man’s nutso. Maybe we all possess our own little bit of crazy. Maybe I was clinically insane at this point. I knew I was at a breaking point. I needed time alone to assess, to assimilate, to plan. Most of all, to figure out what I did now.

  I smiled a wobbly smile, opened the door, closed it softly, and began to run, Charlie beside me.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading The Reluctant Goddess.

  The next book will find Marcie battling both her enemies and those who support her. She’s gradually becoming a very strong woman, although I doubt she’ll ever be a badass. Or, she could surprise everyone.

  Warm fuzzies!

  Karen

  Website: http://karenranney.com

  Email: karen@karenranney.com