As my due date drew closer, I essentially moved back into the coven house, making camp in my old room. I wanted to be there for the delivery and thought maybe I’d even be allowed to help with the preparations for our annual Samhain party.
Well, that’s what I’d imagined; what happened was some of the most profound sleep of my life. Night after night, sometimes lasting well into the following day, I lay down and tumbled into deep unconsciousness. I slept and slept, waking briefly for small meals and a bit of conversation with my coven sisters, only to plunge into sleep again. Sebastian and the healers came to see me and pronounced everything to be just fine, so nobody worried much about it. My tiny, crowded bed became the center of the universe, the most comfortable place I’d ever been, and I barely stirred out of it. Elnor greatly approved of this development; she curled against my body, while Rosemary curled inside it.
I dreamed much during this time, though I never saw the pair of white cats again. Instead, I visited complicated worlds, far beyond the planes I knew. Fiery demons and silver wolves floated past me, harmlessly. I dreamed of this world too, of my house, of my sturdy golem, of the terrible secret I held, and my search for answers, for other half-human witchkind. I dreamed of my mother, who had been ill and had recovered and yet still seemed somehow…remote, and as though she too held a secret. I dreamed of Raymond, kind and loving and sexy, and entirely inappropriate for me. I dreamed of dear Logan, returned to life, smiling and happy before me.
I dreamed of my body, slender and babyless once more, and the sensual pleasures I’d taken from it: my pleasure in Jeremy’s body, and in Raymond’s, and other lovers before them; eating and drinking my fill; filling my lungs with fresh air and working strong magic. I sighed and dreamed of other things, cold winter afternoons lazing by a fire, my body flying through space over an unknown realm, battles and heroes from books I’d read, dangerous children who knew too much. What was real and what was not melded in my dreams, tangled together in a smooth braid. Time passed, and I slept.
At last, the day arrived. I slept late as usual, but woke feeling refreshed and almost energetic. I knew the excessive sleeping was finished: perhaps I’d been preparing myself to have a newborn; my body had been stockpiling rest. I stretched and yawned, pulled on a silk robe, and went to wash my face before making my way downstairs.
It was long past breakfast, but Sirianna, Peony, and Organza were in the kitchen, cooking up a huge batch of moonberries for the fermentation of Witch’s Mead. Our Mead was famous. It blew Gregorio’s “safe for pregnancy” stuff out of the water; even his regular stuff couldn’t touch ours.
Too bad I wouldn’t get to drink any.
Not that I cared, honestly. I didn’t want any; alcohol had never started sounding any better to me.
“Good morning,” I said to my coven sisters, going over to the window seat and arranging myself gingerly down onto it.
“Good afternoon,” Sirianna said with a chuckle, though it was barely ten a.m. She handed her spoon to Peony, who took over stirring. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Thanks.” I leaned against the window frame. “It feels funny in here.”
Organza said, “Well, it is a full moon. Plus, Leonora has begun loosening the house-wards for the party.”
“Oh, that must be it.” I’d liked it when my own house was ward-free (before Jeremy and I had built my own personal ones), but it felt really peculiar here. Like a missing step.
Sirianna lit a burner and suspended a piece of bread in mid-air, toasting it. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. Awake, finally.” I put a hand on my belly. “Full moon. Today’s the day,” I added, completely unnecessarily.
“Such a blessing on our house!” Sirianna said, smiling as she buttered the toast and brought it to me on a china plate. “Tea?”
I took a bite. “No thanks. I shouldn’t fill my stomach, right?”
“True.”
After the toast, I felt entirely stuffed. As usual. And I would be hungry again in an hour. “What can I do to help?” I asked them.
“Nothing. We’re good here,” Peony said.
“Are you sure? Leonora has hardly let me do anything.”
“You’re pregnant!” Sirianna said.
I gaped at her. “I am?! Why didn’t anyone tell me!”
“Oh, hush.” She gave me a gentle swat on my arm. “You just relax and keep us company.”
“Want me to stir that?” I asked Peony.
“No, thank you.”
We chatted a while, but it became clear that they needed to concentrate on what they were doing. I drifted out of the kitchen, looking for something to do. But though all my sisters were frantically getting the house ready for the party, nobody else would let me help with anything either.
I should have had lunch with Christine after all, I thought. And then, Come on, Rose.
With a sigh, I sank onto the couch. Elnor jumped up, gave my bulging non-lap a disdainful glance, and settled on my legs.
Lunchtime came. I nibbled a little and didn’t have a baby.
The afternoon passed. I didn’t have a baby.
Just before dinner, I felt a little something. Was it a contraction? No, it was just my meager lunch shifting. I didn’t have a baby.
The evening wore on. I didn’t have a baby.
I stayed up almost until midnight, quite sure that things would start any minute.
But they didn’t.
I finally went to bed. Now it will be at least another two weeks. Until the moon waxed again. Ah well. These things were never all that predictable; Leonora had said this to me several times throughout the day.
But wow, I was tired of being pregnant.
Samhain morning, the house was crazed with the final preparations, and still no one would let me do a thing. I might as well work on my costume. I hadn’t given it any thought; I had expected to have a newborn, and to be relaxing with her, enjoying my recovery.
Upstairs in my tiny room, I leafed through my closet, then studied my stout physique in the mirror, frowning. Dressing as any kind of animal was out; I had no intention of showing up as a hippo or a hedgehog or a roly-poly bug. I could magic myself to appear smaller, but the illusions involved with that were more than I felt up to at the moment.
Gracie should be here. She loved dress-up. I realized that, without consciously thinking about it, I’d been holding out hope that she’d return by Samhain.
“I should just put a sheet over myself and be a great big ghost,” I grumbled to Elnor.
But that gave me an idea: I’d be an ifrit. Ethereal, insubstantial, and my size wouldn’t matter. All I needed was a few yards of magical fabric.
I searched through the æther, looking in several stores before I found what I needed. The coven even had an account there. Within minutes, I had armloads of shimmery fabric in several shades of white, from opaque to a ghostly mist, which I draped around myself strategically. It would have gone more smoothly if Elnor hadn’t taken a fancy to the cloth. She batted at pieces of it as they slipped by her nose, getting her claws stuck in the netting. “Out!” I finally commanded. She slunk away.
When I was done, I looked in the mirror. I was pretty much see-through, except I wasn’t, except I was. I spun slowly. Or maybe I was invisible. It was a weird, cool effect. I even felt lighter.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t managed to use up much time.
Well, that’s what naps were for.
Apparently, I had a little more sleep left in me after all.
I awoke—and the party had started. I levered myself out of bed, smoothed my rumpled costume, and headed downstairs.
I hardly recognized my staid coven house. The furniture was shunted away and the rooms were stretched to their full supernatural capacity, but even so, the throngs of guests threatened to burst the house’s edges. Witches and warlocks mingled, flirting and chatting as they dipped into the smoking vats of Witch’s Mead and sampled from plates of delicious munchies my sisters had spent days slaving over. It seemed like there were even more guests here than at Gregorio’s party, though that was probably just because our house was smaller.
Everyone was in costume. There were the usual vampires, fangs dripping with real human blood, and the faithful old fallback looks of sexy-witch or scary-witch—cleavage or warts, respectively. A horse, a mynah bird, and a griffin were in conversation in a corner of the living room, monopolizing the Mead-vat they stood over. A knight in full armor stood in another corner—he must have been roasting in all that metal. I saw a mermaid with a real fish-tail, and looked to see what the sloppy thing was doing to Leonora’s precious parlor rug—but of course, the rugs had all gone the way of the furniture. Our inlaid pentagram gleamed from the polished wood floor; a magical sheen protected the finish.
I was nearly invisible in my costume. Which was great. The gauzy fabric even covered my head, leaving only my eyes exposed through a Salome-like veil.
I moved into the room, taking in the mood, the laughter, seeing if there was anyone I didn’t know—or couldn’t recognize. Sirianna found me. She sipped from a smoking cup of Witch’s Mead, and wore a catsuit, complete with furry tail and tufted ears. “Oh, look at you!” she said, grinning through her whiskers.
“You look great too. How did the Mead turn out?”
“Pretty good.” She frowned. “Last year’s was better, but this is all right. Oh—we made punch too.” She pointed to a pitcher on the sideboard.
“Ah, thanks,” I said, and got myself a cup as she disappeared into the crowd.
I stood at the edge of the room, enjoying the punch before putting the empty glass down. My belly was full again. The punch was not an intoxicant, but it had been brewed with health and well-being in mind. It rolled lovingly through my veins, relaxing me.
After a few minutes, I worked my way through the living room and into the kitchen, also jam-packed. The door to Leonora’s office stood open. All the furniture was gone, leaving only the window seat and its comfy pillows. Three witches from Purslaine’s coven were in there, making goo-goo eyes at the old fellow who watched the university portal in Berkeley.
Which made me think yet again of Logan’s body, and Gregorio, and everything else. Was Gregorio here? He must be; it would be politically awkward to avoid our party.
Which didn’t mean I wanted to see him.
“How are you feeling, Calendula?”
I turned. Leonora was at my shoulder, wearing one of her Elizabethan gowns, complete with diadem. “I’m good—I got a nap.”
She smiled faintly, focusing most of her attention on reading my energy. Then she nodded. “Yes, all seems well. But take it easy this evening.”
“I will.” I glanced around the kitchen. “Is Dr. Andromedus here?” Better to be prepared than blindsided, I figured.
“Yes. He and several Elders are in the dining room. Along with your warlock.”
Jeremy. Though we were on more comfortable terms, it was still all pretty surface-level. And I hadn’t seen him in a week or more, not since I’d been spending the nights here, since I’d fallen down the sleep-well. “Good, thanks.”
Leonora smiled, then moved off to greet more arriving guests. I made my way toward the dining room, stopping every few feet to catch up with folks. There were witches I hadn’t seen since last year’s party—witches I liked. It made me realize yet again how different this past year of my life had been. How distracted and isolated I’d become. I looked around for Shella and Gentian, but the crowd was so thick (and in disguise), I couldn’t spot them even if they were here.
“Callie!” Mina’s happy burble stopped me again. “Look!” The young witchlet stood before me and twirled. Her costume changed with every inch of her turn. She was a cat, then a dog, then a princess, then a warrior, then flowing water, then—
“That’s awesome,” I said, closing my eyes a moment. It was dizzying. “Stop—hold still a minute! I can’t focus on you.”
She laughed but stopped. Now I saw that she was drinking Mead. I raised an eyebrow, looking around for Leonora.
“Coven Mother said I could!” Mina blurted, before I could say anything. “She said we all could.”
“All right, if she says so,” I laughed. “I guess Samhain is a night to be naughty.”
“Tragic that it’s only one night of the year,” Sebastian Fallon said, joining us. “Where are the rest of the witchlets?” he asked Mina.
“In there.” She waved vaguely toward the front parlor. “Bye!” She dashed off.
“You’re almost invisible,” Sebastian said to me. “Great costume.”
“Thanks.” I looked him over. “Are you…Peter Pan?”
He laughed. “I’m supposed to be a wood elf, but I guess that’s close enough.” He took a sip of a dark blue cocktail. “Have you seen Dr. Andromedus?”
“No, not yet. Leonora said he’s in the dining room?”
“I don’t know. I just meant his costume.”
“Gregorio dressed up?” I gaped at Sebastian.
“Yeah.”
“As what?”
“An eminent warlock scientist,” he said, with a perfectly straight face.
“Jerk.” I snickered. “You had me going there.”
He bowed, doffing his little green cap. “My work here is done.” With a raise of his glass, he sauntered back into the crowd.
I stood in the kitchen a few minutes longer, working up the energy to walk all the way to the dining room. The very next room. Goodness, I’d be glad when this pregnancy was done…Two. More. Weeks. I put my second empty punch glass down, steeled myself, and headed in.
The dining room looked strange without our huge table. It was just as crowded as the rest of the house, but the mood in here was far less festive. In fact it was almost gloomy, I realized, as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. My father stood in one corner, talking very seriously to Gregorio. Neither was in costume. Dad does like to take his cues from Gregorio, I thought, with an inward eye-roll. I looked around for Mom, not seeing her. She, at least, would totally be in costume; she loved dress-up parties.
I watched my father and his old friend, who hadn’t noticed me. What could be so dire? I wished I could hear them.
Only then did I see Jeremy. He was also part of the conversation, behind them, partly in shadows, seeming to be mostly listening. I walked across the room to join them.
“Hi.”
Gregorio stiffened almost imperceptibly, then gave me a gracious smile. “Calendula Isadora. What a lovely party. Your coven has outdone itself.”
“Hello, dear,” my father said, leaning to kiss my hair, but getting only a faceful of gauze for his efforts. I brushed the headpiece back a bit and smiled at him.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” I asked, trying for a look of convincing innocence.
“Of course not,” Gregorio said. “We were just remarking on the delicious petit fours.”
I caught Jeremy’s eye. He gazed back at me with practiced charm. “Indeed, the salmon triangles are some of the best I’ve ever had. Did you make them?”
“No, my sisters haven’t let me help with anything. Apparently I’m pregnant, and therefore incapable of lifting a finger.”
My father patted my arm. “You do not want to do anything to tax yourself when your time is so close. It’s good you have such caring sisters.”
Gregorio nodded. “With younglings being so rare among us, we must protect each one very carefully.” After a nearly imperceptible pause, he added, “As well as their mothers.”
Ugh. Well, at least I could cross this social nicety off my list now. Surely I’d been the polite co-hostess long enough now. “I’m so happy to see you all, and glad you’re having fun.”
Jeremy said, “I am happy to see you too. Shall we go sit somewhere?”
“Yes, please.” I glanced around the extremely crowded room. Sitting down sounded great. Where had all the chairs gone, anyway?
He gave me his brilliant smile and reached for my hand. “Somewhere…more quiet, perhaps?”
My father gave us an indulgent, affectionate smile, as Gregorio chuckled. “Yes, you two run along. We are fine here.”
“Out back?” Jeremy asked. “I think the porch is less crowded.”
I started to answer, then froze as Rosemary gave a violent shift. An entirely novel pain sprang to life inside me. I gasped, clutching my stomach.
Another pain, harder than the first, as my water broke and my baby decided that now, now, she was ready to come into this world.
I wailed, sinking to the floor.
The room was suddenly a flurry of activity. Jeremy bent down over me, looking shocked. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” I started to say, then paused, catching my breath. “No—there was…it’s stopped.” I looked at the floor around me. “I made a mess.”
He stared at the floor, then at me. “Oh…my. The baby is coming…now?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Oh Blessed Mother. Now!”
“I’ve got this,” he said, motioning to the floor, making the water disappear. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
Everyone in the world was standing over me. My father looked pale, Gregorio looked stern. “The clinic,” Gregorio said.
I started to protest, but my father cut in. “No time—Jeremiah is correct, we will take her upstairs.” He bent down to take my other arm and help lift me up.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked.
“The back way is less crowded,” Jeremy said to my dad, glancing into the packed kitchen, ignoring my question.
Other witches, and a few warlocks, were noticing and coming to the dining room. “Should we call a healer?” someone asked.
“Not just yet,” my father said.
“Sebastian’s here,” I put in. “Somewhere.”
My dad and Jeremy led me through a seldom-used passageway, once a servants’ hall. The sharp pain had ceased, but now I felt a downward pressure building. It was only a matter of time before the contractions would start up in earnest.
We moved up the back stairs, passing a startled couple clinched in an amorous embrace. Elnor was already in my room, pacing the floorboards, meowing. My father and Jeremy laid me on my bed.
“Find my mom, and Sebastian,” I murmured, as the pressure increased a notch. “And Leonora.”
“I’m right here,” my coven mother said from the doorway. “Everyone out, who doesn’t belong. Out!” The room had filled with curious onlookers, offering help or just gawking. They all fled the room at Leonora’s command, leaving only my father and Jeremy. Leonora bent over me.
“Get this costume off her,” she said. “I can’t see anything.”
My father nodded, and the magical fabric fell away, leaving me suddenly naked, and very grateful that everyone had been evicted. Then a new force of pain swept away all modesty. “Ohhhhhhhh!” I gasped, the breath turning into a scream at the end.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Leonora crooned, wiping my forehead with a soft cloth. “Ease up a little here—that’s right.” She placed pillows behind me, propping me up in the bed, when all I wanted to do was lie down and curl up around my agonized mid-section. “Gravity will help us.”
The contraction lasted about a hundred and fifty years—and then it was gone. Leonora, sitting on the edge of my bed, gave me an unworried smile. How could she look so relaxed? Hadn’t I just almost died? Stunned, I looked around the room. Jeremy was on the other side of the bed, still close. He looked serious, and a bit frightened, but I saw the light of happiness in his eyes. He believed his first daughter was about to be born. I gave him a weak smile. My father stood just inside the doorway, seemingly not sure if he should be there.
There was a soft knock; my dad opened the door to let Sebastian in. The young warlock looked pale but excited. “How can I help?”
“Just attend, for now,” Leonora said. “Mostly, this is Calendula’s work.”
“I will find Belladonna Isis,” my dad said.
Then another contraction hit, and my mind fled. All the universe was the pain, the tearing, rending, blinding pain. I howled and thrashed about. When my rational mind began to return, my first thought was, Never again, I will NEVER again do this to myself…
“You’re doing great,” Leonora said, again wiping away sweat, from my face and arms and chest now. She spread my legs further and examined me. “Dilating wonderfully! Just hang in there, you’re doing so well.”
“Why does it hurt so much!” I gasped. “Can’t you do something?”
“Yes, but not yet,” she said. “You need to breathe with me here—remember our lessons. Help us out—we need you alert. Pain potion now will just make it harder for you to focus.”
“Oh, Blessed Mother,” I moaned. Yes, she had told me this before, and it did make sense. Leonora had done this many times before. Between contractions, I felt all right. Except for the pressure, and for dreading the next one…
Soon they came fast and hard. I lost count. It happened twenty times, or twenty thousand. During them, Leonora’s voice rose. She commanded me to breathe, breathe with her, stay up, stay with her, push, hold, relax…I tried to follow her commands, but I felt swept away by the force of the pain, astonished with it, helpless in its face, in its teeth. Between contractions, she mopped me up, Jeremy stroked my hair, Sebastian tried to make me laugh, and they all murmured encouragement.
Time came unhinged. The pains ebbed and flowed. I was exhausted. I could hear the party downstairs. Surely the guests knew what was happening, but as they’d all been evicted from the room, apparently they decided to keep celebrating. I became less and less able to respond to Leonora’s coaxing. I howled with pain. I wailed for relief.
Finally, she and Jeremy had a whispered conversation. She frowned as he rose from the bed and stepped away. “What…where?” I managed.
“I will be right back, my dear,” he whispered.
“Where is Mom?” I muttered. She should be here; why wasn’t she? Dad had never come back.
“I am here, Calendula,” said Leonora.
“No—my birth mother, Belladonna! Where is she?”
“I’m sure she’ll be along,” Sebastian said.
Then Jeremy was beside me again, holding a glass of amber liquid. He leaned down and brought it to my lips. “Here, for the pain,” Leonora said as he did. “We’re close enough now.”
I drank, gratefully. The taste was foul, but the pain eased, and I left my mind and body, just enough. Now I floated over the scene, still somewhat aware, but blissfully vacant as well. I could no longer speak or react, and I didn’t care. It was out of my hands.
More time passed. I don’t know how much. My mind drifted. My body labored. My mouth screamed and hollered. Leonora, Jeremy, and Sebastian attended. My mother…didn’t appear.
And then, something shifted. Rosemary broke free, slipping from my body into Leonora’s waiting arms. So easily, after all that. Why not earlier? Why so long?
Leonora held my daughter, looking her over. She frowned, looking worn and confused. What was she seeing? I tried to reach out to take my baby, but my arms would not obey. My mouth would not open to speak. “She appears healthy, and…” Leonora said at last. There was something off in her voice. Doubt. Fear? Did she see, did she know? She knew. She saw the human blood; I didn’t know how, but she did.
But of course she would. Leonora didn’t miss much.
My coven mother reached down and severed the umbilical cord, using magic rather than a blade. I didn’t feel anything physically, of course—the cord has no nerves—but I sensed the magical separation between me and my daughter. We were now distinct people. Distinct witches.
“Here,” Leonora said, but I couldn’t see what she was doing, who she was handing the cord to. Probably Sebastian. I knew it would be preserved, just as our menstrual blood was.
Rose gave a tiny sigh, taking her first real breath out here in the world. My heart twanged in response. My baby! Again I tried to move my arms, to take her, to hold her.
Leonora leaned down and set the baby into my arms, giving me an exhausted smile. I was weak as a kitten; she held Rosemary with my arms, helping me hold my daughter. Rose lay on my chest, breathing, blinking. “Will she nurse?” I said, barely able to raise my voice above a whisper.
“Not yet. Just hold her. Let her know you,” Leonora murmured.
Then my coven mother looked up, and her eyes met Jeremy’s. Something passed between them, there and gone in a moment. “My father asked—” he started, but she interrupted him.
“I know,” she said, and her stern voice brooked no argument. “But whatever his urgency may be, it can wait until a witchlet has bonded with her mother.”
Jeremy nodded, seemingly abashed, though he wouldn’t meet my eye.
Slowly, a tiny bit of strength came back to me. My arms found their purpose and cradled my baby. Leonora loosened her own supportive hold, gently, slowly, making sure I had Rosemary before she let go entirely. I smiled up at her. “Thank you.” My voice was hoarse, but at least I had voice. I leaned my head down a fraction, smelling the top of Rose’s head, suddenly understanding why people did that. She was clean and dry—had some magic been done to make her so? This wasn’t what I’d expected. Maybe Leonora had wiped her off when I’d been confused with the pain potion? Probably I just hadn’t noticed.
Mostly I just held her. I wasn’t in any pain, not anymore. Just bliss. And exhaustion.
I know I didn’t sleep, but my universe shrank for a while, until it contained only me and my baby. I held her. She lay against me, alive and breathing calmly. I knew she had gone through at least as much of an ordeal as I had…but she seemed content, and at ease.
I slowly began to wonder about our witchkind bond. Babes in the womb often exchange rudimentary communications with their mothers. Not always, but I knew it was more common than not. Rosemary never had. Would she now?
I opened my eyes and focused again on Leonora. She had lowered herself into the small chair in my room, obscuring it entirely. Sebastian watched us both, wide-eyed, awed. Jeremy still stood by the door, waiting for…something. Oh right. Gregorio wanted to see the babe.
Not if I could help it.
“Mother,” I asked Leonora. “Should she be talking to me?”
My coven mother smiled. She knew what I meant—that I wasn’t asking if a newborn was going to open her mouth and speak words. “Most likely, in time. Is she not?”
“Not yet.”
“You cannot sense anything? Not hunger, or gratitude, or discomfort of any kind?”
I thought about it. “I think she’s happy. Relaxed.”
“Then that is good.” She glanced back at Jeremy, behind her. “The sooner you let your warlock take her to her grandfather, the sooner she will be brought back to you.” She said this gently, but I heard the implacable insistence. I was not going to be allowed to refuse this. “She will grow hungry, anon,” Leonora added.
I gave a heavy sigh. I could admit to no good reason why Gregorio shouldn’t be allowed to see Rosemary. To continue to resist it would just look weird. I was pretending that the old warlock wasn’t my mortal enemy, after all. That he was the child’s loving grandfather. “All right,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “I had no idea how hard it would be to let go of her.” Poor addled new mother, awash in hormones and sentiment, oh everyone should be so gentle with me.
Jeremy stepped up to the bed.
“Can’t he just come here?” I asked, still clinging to Rose.
“Calendula,” Leonora said, a warning in her voice.
Defeated, I handed my baby to Jeremy. He took her gently, both love and a bit of confusion shining in his eyes as he peered at her. “Such red hair,” he murmured.
Oh, Blessed Mother, he knew too. Well, it might as well all come out; then I could stop pretending. Of course I had no idea what Gregorio would do with this once everyone knew, how I would be punished…my mind started racing, even as my arms ached to hold my baby once more.
“Well, she is a child of the waning moon,” Leonora said to Jeremy. “Both conceived and born. That is always a wild card.”
Jeremy frowned. “And her energy…” He shook his head. “I will take her to my father.”
Leonora nodded. “Bring her back quickly, please. She will need to take her first meal.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Jeremy promised. “He’s just upstairs.” I frowned, confused, but then remembered the Samhain party still raging on the first floor. “Where…?”
“I have told Dr. Andromedus he may view the child in the third floor meeting room,” Leonora told me. “The healers are there with him, and they will take the opportunity to look her over.” Now she gave me a warm smile. “I know you want to keep her entirely to yourself, but you must remember how important your daughter is to our whole community.”
“I know.” The first baby born in years; the first baby born since we lost Logan, since witchkind was threatened with greater loss to our numbers. “I know.”
“I will be as quick as I can,” Jeremy said to me. He leaned down and brushed my forehead with a soft kiss. I could smell his scent, and that of my daughter. They were nothing alike.
I nodded, and kept my mouth shut. It was all out of my hands—literally, at the moment.
“I’ll go up with you,” Sebastian said.
The warlocks left, closing the door softly as they went.