by Shannon Page
“You look good with a baby,” I said, teasing gently.
He looked up at me. “You think so?” Then his grin widened. “Do you think I should specialize in pediatrics?”
I snorted a laugh. “Not if you want to make a living in medicine.”
“Ha!” Sebastian leaned forward, handing Rose back to me. “I think she might be hungry. She keeps grabbing at my chest.”
“Good luck with that, girl,” I told her, and pulled her close to suckle again.
Sebastian watched the ease with which we managed this. “You’re an old pro, apparently,” he said, after a minute.
“She makes it easy. She came out knowing just what to do.”
We sat there another few minutes, till Rose fell asleep on my breast.
“She seems like a happy baby,” Sebastian said.
I nodded. “She really is. I’m hoping that’s not—weird, you know.”
“Weird?”
I told him how she’d been, and what I’d been thinking about. “The only time she expressed any dismay at all was when Jeremy tried to hand her to Gregorio.”
“It’s true.” Sebastian frowned.
“What happened, exactly?” I asked.
He gave a small sigh, glancing around the room.
“If there’s any safe place in the universe to talk about the warlock, it’s here, behind the coven house wards,” I added. “My own dad doesn’t want to come visit here.”
Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna need a huge meal when I get home, and maybe even a nap. But it’s worth it, to see her—and you.”
“Thanks.” I said it casually, but I meant it. It said a lot that he would come see me here, and now.
His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer to me. “It was truly weird. She was totally calm, until Jeremy tried to hand her to Dr. A. Then she just gave this…shriek. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it down here.”
“Huh.” Yes, that was weird, and also not weird.
Sebastian clearly had something more he wanted to say. I watched him chew on it for a minute, before he came to some decision. “I didn’t want to bother you with this till you’re up to it, but…there’s something else odd going on with Gregorio.”
When isn’t there? I wondered. “What is it?”
He sighed again. “Remember those ‘volunteers’ he was treating at his lab in Berkeley?”
“Yeah…”
“They’re all missing. Every last one of them.”
I stared back at him. Against my breast, Rose stirred, giving a small whimper, before falling back to sleep. “Missing?” I echoed, because apparently my brain hadn’t come fully back.
He nodded. “I got to thinking, after we last talked about Dr. A. in the café a few weeks ago. And I got to wondering. So I…well, followed up, on my own, as discreetly as I could. It was hard to do without alerting him, so it took a while, but none of those volunteers have been seen since.”
My heart started pounding as I thought about it. What could it mean? “He doesn’t have them sequestered somewhere, does he? While he treats them?”
“Maybe?” Sebastian shook his head. “But if so, why hide the fact? It only made me wonder, made me ask around about them.”
“I hope they’re all right,” I whispered, as dread continued to fill me. But dread of what? I knew Gregorio was sneaky, and that he wasn’t the man he pretended to be. That he knew truths about witchkind that he deliberately kept from us, for reasons of his own.
And I knew that he was no longer monitoring me with an enchanted golden ring.
“Sebastian,” I said, suddenly leaning forward. Rose murmured again, but didn’t shift. “Do me a big favor.”
“Of course.”
I gave a half-smile. “Don’t say yes till you’ve heard it.”
“Callie.” He held my gaze, his eyes as serious as mine. “I have a feeling I know where this is going.”
“Maybe.” I leaned in closer, whispering for no other reason than because it just felt like we should.
He left a few minutes later, with a spell-disguised gold ring in his pocket. I sincerely hoped I hadn’t just made a terrible mistake.
I didn’t want to lose another friend before their time.
— CHAPTER ELEVEN —
I spent one more night in my room at the coven house, letting my sisters bring me meals, coddle me, and coo over my baby. Then I spent another day making sure I had the strength to be on my own—walking up and down the stairs carrying the baby, cooking myself small meals, sitting out on the back veranda. The day after that, I returned to my house.
“It is customary to take one to two weeks for recovery,” Leonora said.
I smiled at her. “I’m sure that’s the tradition, but honestly, I’m feeling just fine.” We stood in the front parlor as I held Rosemary, jiggling her slightly, though she had still not yet cried. “And besides, I have Petrana to take care of me if I need household help.”
To her credit, Leonora refrained from letting out a dismissive snort. “And besides that,” she said instead, “you have a coven full of sisters who are more than happy to take shifts at your house, since you insist upon living there. Every single one of them has asked me about it.”
“Have they indeed?” I asked, unable to stifle a smile. “Asked to come and help me there, or asked you why you’re letting me leave so soon?”
Now she did smile back. “A mix.”
I shook my head. “I understand, but I really do want to get back to my own home. Also, Jeremy won’t come see me or the baby here, and neither will my parents. They need to see her, and she needs to get to know them. All of them.”
Leonora nodded. “Allow me to bid farewell to the child, then, before you depart.”
“Of course.” I handed her to my coven mother, who rocked her and made all manner of extremely undignified noises at her. Rosemary appeared delighted by the old witch. I swear she actually laughed, though maybe that was just more drooling and random sounds.
Leonora’s face was soft and relaxed when she handed the baby back. “I will come and visit once you are settled.”
“Yes, you are always welcome.”
“You are not taking the ley lines, are you?”
“No, no.” I shifted Rose to one arm so I could dig my cell phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to call a car.”
“A taxi?”
I smiled at her. “Something like that.”
The phone, however, was entirely dead. I so did not understand the poor, feeble magic of these devices. How could they run out of power when they were turned off and not being used?
Fortunately, the coven house had a few electrical plugs. We even used them from time to time, so some clever human at PG&E wouldn’t notice that such a big house had a zero-balance bill every month, and wonder why.
I plugged it in and left it to do its thing while I packed. When I went back for it, I saw I had a couple of voicemails.
“Crap,” I whispered. They were both from Christine—Raymond’s sister. Today was the day we were supposed to have lunch. I’d forgotten all about her—about everything in my life except this baby, it seemed.
I called her back, only to get her voicemail in turn. “Hey, it’s Callie,” I said after the beep. “I’m so sorry I blew off our lunch, but as you probably guessed, I have the world’s best excuse! I’m holding a sweet baby girl in my arms right now. Anyway, let me know when you want to reschedule. Talk to you soon!”
My phone buzzed with a text a few minutes later. No worries! I figured that’s what must have happened. Just call when you’re up to it—and congrats!
Thanks! I typed back, happy she wasn’t mad at me.
I turned off the phone and tucked it into my pocket.
Then I remembered why I’d charged the phone in the first place, and pulled it back out again, so I could open the app and call for the car.
Apparently, pregnancy brain didn’t just evaporate when you had the baby.
The Lyft dropped me,
Rose, and Elnor off in front of my house. I could tell that the driver was dying to ask something—anything—about what I was up to, but I wasn’t sure what exactly seemed weird to him.
Only later did I figure it out: most cats don’t like to ride in cars. Not only that, but most women with infants travel with a great deal of equipment. I didn’t have a baby carrier or diaper bag or anything.
Well, whatever. If I was going to worry about confusing humans, I’d do nothing else all day.
I felt the wards of my house brush across me, acknowledging my presence, and that of Elnor, then pausing when they got to Rose. They let her pass, of course; she had been in this house plenty—in fact she had been conceived here—but she had never been her own, self-contained person before. Ward magic is fairly mechanical, though, and my wards let us in after a moment.
My house felt stale and unoccupied. “Petrana!” I called out. “We’re home!
My golem came walking down the long hallway from the kitchen, where she waited when I wasn’t having her do anything else. “Welcome home, Mistress Callie, and Mistress Rosemary.”
I smiled. “You really don’t need to call her mistress,” I said. “She’s a baby.”
“She is a very attractive baby.”
“Thank you.” Was Petrana developing more of a personality all the time? And was this an independent action on her part, or was she just mirroring me? I wished I understood golems better.
Elnor was marching around the whole first floor of the house, nose active, re-securing the space that we’d been away from for such a time. As usual, she paused at the closet under the front staircase. Petrana glanced at me, as though for permission. I nodded, and she opened the door. Elnor shot inside.
I shrugged and headed down the hallway. “Petrana, I am going to have some people over, probably several times over the next few days,” I told her. “I think it would be a good idea to get some food prepared, stuff that we can just eat without a lot of fuss.”
I got to the kitchen and glanced around. It was all well and good that I’d prepared a nursery, but I could already see that I was woefully unprepared for what it really meant to have a baby. It wasn’t like I could just plunk Rose down on a wooden chair and go about my business.
I shifted her to a hip so I could use at least one hand to open cabinets.
“Would you like me to hold her for you?” Petrana asked, stepping into the kitchen behind me.
I started to say No, but then thought about it. “Are you…equipped for holding a baby?”
“I am not sure what you mean by that.”
“She’s the most precious thing in the world to me.” I watched my golem, still wishing her face could display some sort of emotion. “She must be held gently, but firmly. She cannot, under any circumstances, be dropped. She is very fragile.”
“I am equipped to hold the baby without dropping her. I have never dropped any of the fragile dishes.”
“Dishes don’t wriggle about unexpectedly,” I told her.
“Begging your pardon, Mistress Callie, but sometimes they do,” my golem returned. “Particularly when they have soap on them.”
I stared at her. Was she…being funny? No, surely not. “Well, let’s give it a try. I’ll stand very close, in case…anything goes awry.” In case Rose objected to being held by a mud-creature animated by my own magic.
She’d objected to an eight-hundred-year-old warlock, after all.
Petrana stepped up to me, and I handed her the baby, holding my breath.
She took Rosemary gently and held her to her breast, just as she’d seen me do. Rose lolled her eyes up at the golem, then at me. Then—this can’t be literally true, but I know what I saw—she nodded, and settled in against Petrana’s chest.
Petrana stood entirely still, all her attention focused on holding the baby. I could almost see her thoughts: gently, but firmly.
“Okay,” I said, after a long moment. “I guess you can hold the baby.” I took a step back.
The baby seemed happy in Petrana’s arms.
It felt really strange to turn away from them and look through the cupboards—I kept sneaking looks back, making sure everything was all right—but I finally had to admit that, even though it practically gave me vertigo, it was going to be all right.
I still needed to get some real baby furniture, though. Highchairs and strollers and, what-do-you-call-them, those little net cages with the soft floors. Something to pack her into cars in so I didn’t freak out any more Lyft drivers. Why hadn’t anybody prepared me for this part of the experience?
Maybe it would have been easier if I’d actually ever known anyone who’d had a baby. By the time witchlets got to the coven house, they were school age.
Maybe I should have let some of my coven sisters come over, take shifts helping me out.
But then I thought about Niad prancing around trying to tell me how to be a mother.…Nope.
Rose rested happily in Petrana’s arms until she got hungry again, an hour or so later. Petrana didn’t even need to sit down. I coached her on walking around a bit, since Rose seemed to like the movement.
Only I could feed her, though.
I was sitting at the dining table doing just that when Elnor wandered in. “Where have you been, kitty?” I asked. I didn’t think I’d seen her since we’d gotten back home. Usually she’d be bugging me for tuna by now. “Is the house all secure now?”
She looked up at me and started washing her whiskers.
On the stove, a dozen eggs were boiling, so Petrana could make deviled eggs for all the company I was planning. I’d deal with getting groceries later; I had enough stuff here to keep us all going for a few days.
I just needed to decide who to invite first.
When I thought about it that way, the answer was obvious. I sent a message to Jeremy: We’re home, and Rosemary and I would be delighted to see you whenever it’s convenient.
May I come now? he answered a moment later.
Please.
He must have already shopped, because he knocked at the door within minutes, and was holding a large, beautifully wrapped box.
“Do come in,” I said, grinning at the present and then up at him.
“It’s for her, not for you,” he teased, following me inside.
We sat in the second, more casual parlor, and he cooed over the baby, still clearly delighted by her. Still clearly in the dark about her parentage, despite his earlier hesitation. I pushed my worries aside and enjoyed his smile, enjoyed how silly babies made everyone. “Who’s the pretty child?” he crooned at her. “Who’s the special powerful witchlet?”
Hmm, I hoped she’d be powerful. I hoped Gregorio was wrong about that. I kept my mouth shut.
“Who’s my smart girl?”
“Smart as she is, I’m not sure she can open that box,” I finally said.
Jeremy looked up at me with a foolish grin. “No, you’ll probably have to help her. Be my guest.”
I snagged the present off the coffee table, pulled off the elaborate ribbons, and tore away the paper. Inside was a box holding a lovely quilt, folded neatly. It was clearly handmade, and obviously not new, though clean and very well preserved.
I looked up at Jeremy. He was watching me carefully. “It was mine,” he said softly. “My mother made it for me, before she…It is one of the few things I have from her hand.”
My eyes filled with tears as I drew the blanket to my face, breathing in the warm scent of Jeremy, the emotional traces of his long-dead mother, the love and sorrow and pain and warmth and generosity of this amazing gift. “Oh…” My throat threatened to stop up with emotion. “Jeremy, this is…too much.” He looked worried, so I put the quilt in my lap and pulled him into an embrace. He was still holding Rose; we were both careful not to squish her. “I don’t mean it’s too much. I mean—I don’t know what to say. It’s an astonishing gift.”
He held me close—held both of us close—and whispered, “I have always intended to give it to
my firstborn.”
Even though none of this is how I imagined it would be went unsaid between us. I just kept holding him, holding her between us, as I grieved for a warlock who had lost his mother far, far too young. He’d hardly known her, but he must have felt her absence every day of his life.
Rose would never know that feeling, I vowed. She would know the love of her mother…
When an image of Gracie’s face sprang into my mind—the young witchlet out on her own, bereft of any parent, any elders—I stopped the entire train of thought before I could blurt out something ill-considered. Instead, when I finally pulled away, I wiped a stray tear and said, “Thank you. Thank you so very, very much.”
“You, and she, are most welcome.”
Rosemary reached out and pulled on a strand of his long hair. He had it in his usual simple ponytail down his back, but our embrace had brought it to her attention. Jeremy smiled as he gently extracted his hair from her hand. “I wasn’t wrong about her being powerful. Strong, too.” He looked up at me. “She seems…quite alert, interactive even, for being so very young.”
I shrugged, smiling down at my baby. “I don’t really know what to expect.”
“Neither do I, I confess.”
Rose blew more bubbles and lolled her head about, or at least as much as she could with Jeremy holding it steady. We both knew that much about infants, anyway.
Sitting here with them forced me to think about his contract offer…still on the table, I supposed. At least, he hadn’t retracted it. Nor had he pressed it. He was clearly fond of Rosemary, and I knew how he felt about me.
But would he still feel the same—about both of us—if he ever found out the truth?
Certainly not.
Could I be one hundred percent certain he never would find out?
No, not at all; not when it was his father’s own secret, and when Jeremy himself had already remarked on Rose’s red hair and noticed whatever else about her he wasn’t telling me.
So I couldn’t, in good faith, agree to form a legal family with him. Not with such a secret between us. If I ever signed a contract with a warlock, there would have to be complete honesty.
