The Dark Calling, Page 2

  And with wrath; I'd been imbued by the goddess Demeter as well. When she'd gotten enraged enough, she'd laid a curse on the entire earth.

  I remembered the red witch saying, "Demeter withholds viciously--and gives lavishly. GIVE," right before I'd euthanized a colony of plague victims. Matthew had told me, "Power is your burden."

  Not lately.

  Aric continued, "When you wanted to use contraception, I agreed. But for whatever reason, this is our situation now. And I, for one, welcome it. After all the death I've caused--"

  "I'm seventeen!"

  "Your current incarnation has lived that long, but over your lifetimes, you're much older." Equal frustration showed in his expression, but he stifled it. "Can you not see why this could be a good thing, sieva? We will change history. Overturn the game. Perhaps even end it."

  That prospect called to me. Before I'd lost Jack, I'd wanted to end the game more than anything. But the fact remained: I wasn't pregnant.

  Aric cupped my cheek. "Talk to me. I need to know all the thoughts in your beautiful mind."

  Jack's possible survival. Paul's lies. Aric's coming disappointment. Claws. Poison. Punishment. "I'm done." With my bath. With waiting to vent this rage.

  I stood in the tub, glaring when Aric used his speed to lift me and wrap a robe around me. "I can walk."

  "As you wish." He slowly set me on my feet. Back in our room, I passed the full-length mirror, pausing to take in my appearance. My eyes were glassy, my cheeks pale. I didn't look pregnant.

  In the reflection, I spied the white bloom in a vase beside my bed, the rose plant Aric had grown from a seed after we'd had sex for the first time.

  Over the millennia, he'd always carried a white rose on his standard. I'd painted one on the wall that overlooked our bed.

  Was that budding rose one of those memory waypoints my grandmother had told me about? If so, what else did it signify?

  Aric stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. For everyone else who'd ever lived, contact with his skin was lethal. For me, his touch was warm and pleasurable. Together we were different.

  If Paul had given me a dummy shot, why wouldn't I have gotten pregnant? After all the times Aric and I had had sex?

  Potentially unprotected sex.

  I swallowed thickly, then closed my eyes to take a mental inventory of myself, using the same power I'd used to find seeds deep in the earth.

  Sensing, sensing . . .

  I opened my eyes, staring into my own hollow-eyed gaze. Oh, dear God. Something felt fundamentally off with me.

  Another glance at the white bloom. Aric had planted more than a rose seed two months ago.

  I was . . . pregnant.

  "You perceive something, do you not?"

  Life and Death had gotten together--how could I think there'd be no repercussions? Realization struck: I was always going to get pregnant by him. He was right; it did feel inevitable.

  Didn't mean Paul would escape my wrath.

  Over the last several months, we'd been puzzled why my powers had grown weaker. Aside from the global destruction of plants, I'd blamed the Bagman bites I'd sustained or the weather--cold and lack of sunlight in the endless night. Aric had blamed my bottled-up grief over Jack.

  Whatever the cause, a pregnancy couldn't be helping things.

  How would I contribute in the battle against Richter like this? I was now effectively benched--and would be for months to come.

  Aric caught my gaze in the mirror. "Love, all will be well if you trust me."

  Paul had garnered my trust. The doctors in the mental ward had wanted me to trust them. Gran had. Matthew had. The Hermit had. Just tell me your story.

  I was tired of trusting, could barely bite back that acid rage. The Empress didn't get caged or contained.

  Or compromised.

  Aric had seen me as a bloodthirsty red witch in the past and must fear I'd return to form. He should.

  If Paul had screwed with me, he'd die.

  I told Aric, "I am pregnant."

  His eyes glittered with emotion. "So you are, little wife."

  I smiled into the mirror. "Which means I'm going to kill Paul."

  2

  "This can't be undone," Aric told me as I laced up my boots. "If you're wrong, you will have murdered an unarmed mortal who's been of great service to everyone here. Guilt for things in the past already eats at you."

  "Paul gave me a shot and told me it was a contraceptive. This happened." Almost positive about that. I finished with my boots. "I believe it's a woman's choice when to start a family. Paul has robbed me of my choice. I'm going to punish him for it."

  "Who will deliver our child? After working as an EMT, he attended two years of medical school. He's the only one with medical experience. When I prepared this castle for any foreseeable future, I never imagined that you and I would have a baby--I have no other doctor for you."

  "That's a problem I shouldn't even have to consider." More blame going to Paul.

  "If not for your sake, then think of the Magician." Finn had gotten his leg mangled in a cannibal's bear trap. Then he'd rebroken it fighting the Lovers. The bone had never healed properly. "Paul believes he can reset the boy's leg."

  I tensed. "He won't touch Finn." My happy-go-lucky friend might be a trickster, but the Magician was no match for Paul's scheming.

  Aric looked taken aback by my tone. Changing tack, he said, "For two thousand years, I've rewarded faithful service from the mortals I employ, providing protection and guidance. Do we not owe Paul some consideration after his care of your grandmother?"

  I recalled the medic's gentle expression as he'd tugged up Gran's cover, and a nagging doubt surfaced. I quashed it.

  "Paul saved your life," Aric pointed out. "He dug bullets out of your heart."

  "I can regenerate."

  "Not when you had a contagion in your veins. His quick work could have been the difference between your surviving or not. I owe him my eternal gratitude for that alone."

  "You think that contagion ran its course?" I tapped my chin. "Or maybe this spawn of ours will be part Bagger." After all, it'd only been a few months since four Bagmen had bitten me, per Sol's orders. With friends like that . . .

  "I'm confident it ran its course. Remember how hard you were able to push yourself dancing? You were blooming with health." Except for my powers. "But that brings to mind an important point: You somehow found a way to trust the Sun Card after his betrayal, and he redeemed himself. I fear that if you suspend your trust of Paul, you'll hate yourself. Especially if he's innocent of malice."

  "He's not. For whatever reason, he's lied to you about me. You told me you don't let vipers slither around in your home. Either he goes, or I go." Go. Out into the wastelands. Was the game calling me forth?

  At that moment, I yearned to leave. To find out if Jack lived. To forgive Matthew if he did.

  Maybe I wasn't hearing anything more from them because I was too deep in this castle, too far behind Circe's watery boundary. Out in the Ash, I might have a better chance of getting to the bottom of Matthew's message.

  But Aric would never let me go. Especially not now. Yet more blame to lay at Paul's feet.

  "Don't be ridiculous," Aric said, right on cue. "You're not going anywhere."

  He hadn't said that Paul would be leaving instead. With a roll of my eyes, I headed toward the door.

  Aric followed. We started for the east wing, wending our way among the numerous animals tromping, waddling, and skittering through the castle hallways. He scowled when a family of porcupines simply gazed at us, refusing to budge.

  As we edged around them, I said, "It's freezing in here." My breaths smoked. The vines and roses I'd grown along the ceilings were already withering.

  "I've started conserving fuel. Only our wing and the occupied rooms will be heated from now on."

  "You told Jack we had fifty years of fuel."

  "That was before I knew we would have a child. Resources must be man
aged differently now."

  "What else has changed?" I slowed to a stop. "Maybe our plan to go out in a blaze of glory together?" He and I had agreed on a one-way ticket to fight Richter and save mankind. "I know you, Aric. I know you've already been puzzling out these new moving pieces . . . ." Suddenly I couldn't get enough air. "One of us will have to live to raise a kid. You're going to make me win the game!"

  I'd be forced to endure his demise, then later our child's. I'd have to endure life alone as an immortal for centuries.

  In the meantime, I'd be separated from all the fighting, helpless to have a say.

  "No," he said firmly. "Lark informed me she has no interest in immortality without the Magician, so I spoke to Circe." About being our Arcana patsy? "She has agreed to win the game, at a time in the far distant future. For now, we will defeat Richter and survive the battle. We will fight hard to live. Both of us."

  "How? What's different?"

  "I wish I had a specific answer for you, but I don't just yet. I learned that we're having a child less than a day ago. For eons, I'd envisioned a certain existence, then I altered my plans to have a life with you. Now everything is in flux once more." He took a step closer. "But I do know that we must be stronger, smarter, and more adaptable. We'll call on allies as never before. We'll do whatever it takes to survive long enough to raise our child together."

  I must've looked unconvinced, because he said, "I have prevailed against the Emperor before." By using Richter's rage--his strength and his weakness--against him. "We can do it again."

  "And if we fail? If we die?"

  "With your consent, Circe will be our child's godmother."

  Though our options were slim, I probably would've chosen her above anyone. She adored children. In a rare moment of trust, she'd once confided to me that she and her fiance had planned on three of them. "I agree. She's a good choice."

  "I also entreated her to do that memory spell for us." In future games, we'd be able to remember our shared past--so we didn't kill each other. "She said it is demanding to perform, but she will try."

  Then he wasn't planning to crown me the victor. My relief was short-lived. I still had Paul to deal with.

  Aric reached forward and cupped my nape. "I know what I want in the future. I know what I will work toward. And step one is making my wife believe me when I tell her this baby is a good thing."

  I wanted to be more understanding with him. Yet I couldn't manage it at all. "Step one is getting rid of the man who betrayed me." I shrugged out from under Aric's grip and continued down the hall.

  As we neared the den, I heard Lark and Finn laughing at some movie. The scent of buttery popcorn hit me, and my stomach lurched.

  Aric said, "The Magician's appetite is equaled only by his use of incomprehensible slang. While you slept, he must have eaten a year's worth of rations."

  Rations. I'd never heard Aric speak about food in those terms. So we were conserving everything? He'd been prepared to feed Ogen; I had to believe Finn would eat less than a demon/troll.

  We reached the den entrance. Inside, the lovebirds were snuggled up on the couch.

  Lark paused the flick. "Look! It's the mama bear, up from her nap!"

  Between mouthfuls of popcorn, Finn said, "Blondie's baking a bun!"

  I grated, "Apparently."

  Lark scanned my face. "Uh, where're you headed?"

  "To confront Paul. Seems he gave me a mock contraceptive shot. Then he lied and told Aric I refused to get one."

  Finn set aside his jumbo bowl of popcorn. "Uncool! What gives?"

  Good question. "I'm trying to figure that out myself."

  Lark sat up straighter. "What happens if he did screw you over?" If? "Are we talking exile?" She waved at the window. Snow fell in a torrent of white. "'Cause that'd pretty much mean killing him. You ready to do that?"

  "That, and so much more." Could she not comprehend what he'd done to me?

  "Finn needs that leg operation." She pointed a claw-tipped finger at the Magician. "He tries to hide the pain he's in, but you can't hide things from a girl who can see through an insect's eyes."

  "I'm chill, babe." Finn took her hand. "All in all, I'm not stoked to get my leg cracked again. And if Paul dicked Evie over, then he's got to vacate."

  Again with the if.

  Lark murmured, "You're just saying that because I told you Evie got you in here." I'd talked Aric into letting Finn live in the castle.

  Gazing into her eyes, he said, "That's a pretty good reason, huh?"

  Looking unconvinced, she turned to me. "I heard some of the stuff your grandmother said in those last few weeks. She was 5150 crazy, and you just sat there listening to it, hour after hour. How could it not affect you? You'd already been through a lot. Maybe you got confused about some things."

  When Gran died, Aric had said much the same thing--that I was too shocked to grieve. Wasn't too shocked a way of saying messed up mentally? I shook my head. "I remember going to Paul for contraception, and I remember talking to you about it. I told you there were a few extra doses, and you said you'd leave the breeding to the animals."

  Her blank look gave me chills.

  "You do remember that, right?"

  She stared at her animalistic claws. "I remember girl-talking with you, but not that specifically."

  Perfect. A potential witness for me was casting doubt on my story. "Well, half of your brain was in a falcon at the time." When she'd been relentlessly searching for Finn out in the Ash. "You weren't tracking great yourself."

  "Before you do anything to Paul, think about the fallout, Evie. This castle will collapse without him. We might have frozen food, but there're no staples. He prepares everything. Fixes everything. Cooks all the meals. Scrubs the entire place."

  Her words only convinced me that we were far too vulnerable to him. "You've listed things he can do for us. Not reasons why he should be trusted." I continued down the hall, leaving Lark and Finn with worried expressions.

  She called after me, "He fixed you when you showed up with three bullets in your heart and no legs to speak of!"

  Aric caught up to me as I neared Paul's door. The medic occupied a large bedroom connected to a spacious study that had been converted into an examination area. When we entered, he was seated at his desk, making notes.

  For my patient file?

  He glanced back at us with a toothy smile, but his wide blue eyes held concern for me. "I'm not sure you should be up so soon. And I would've come to you." As accommodating as ever.

  Doubts arose. Maybe you've just lost it, Eves. Maybe Richter's attack was the final mental straw.

  Paul laid down his pen and twirled his chair to face us. "What can I help you with? I'm sure you've got a ton of questions. This is exciting, right? I know the boss is beside himself." He waved at Aric.

  Before more uncertainty gripped me, I said, "You gave me a shot. Why wasn't there a contraceptive in it?"

  He blinked, then said cautiously, "Because you told me you didn't want one?"

  I clenched my fists. "You're lying. A little more than two months ago on the night all that snow fell, I'd been crying, and you asked me how you could help."

  Paul scrubbed a hand over his buzz-cut black hair. "I did. I'd been worried about your mental health. You were cooped up inside, listless and not eating."

  As if he hadn't spoken, I said, "As you injected my arm, you told me the contraceptive would last for three months, and I told you the idea of living that long seemed far-fetched. Your response: 'Better safe than sorry.'"

  Paul's lips parted. "I don't know what to say. I don't remember things the same way." His voice was kind, his demeanor baffled. "I recall giving you a B-12 shot. You can look at your file. It's all right there."

  "That's not what happened!" My claws budded.

  "Evie, it is."

  Aric watched this interchange with his muscles tensed, as if he expected he might have to step in--to save Paul. Aric was believing him over me.

 
I rubbed my temples. Maybe I should believe them over me?

  No. Paul was lying to my face! For what malicious reason?

  Gaze on my hideous claws, he held up his palms. "Ah, let's just take it easy. Hey, this is A.F." After the Flash. "Maybe I, uh, got everything wrong."

  Why did he have to roll over? If he'd continued his denial, I would have skewered him.

  "I don't want to do anything to cause a patient distress. Regardless of what happened in the past, you are pregnant now, and you don't look so great. Please let me check your vitals again."

  "No need. You know how resilient I am." My claws ached. "Do you think a single medic and his lies can slow me down?"

  When my hair began to turn red again, Aric stepped closer to me. A warning not to use my powers? As if I could! Though my claws had sharpened, my vines still seemed to be dormant.

  Paul exhaled a breath. "Lies? You think I would purposely withhold birth control from you? Why would I do such a thing?"

  "You know I don't want a child, and you know Aric does." Paul glanced at him with a nervous look. Again, I wondered if they'd plotted this thing. Gran would believe they had. No, Aric could never do that to me. "You're trying to drive a wedge between us."

  "You're making me out to be evil. I'm not. I can only imagine the horror you've seen out in the Ash, but I'm not like the villains you've encountered. I'm not a cannibal or a mad scientist. I'm not a torturer living in a house of horrors."

  "That's what makes you even more dangerous."

  "All my life, I've tried to look out for others. To help." Paul's blue eyes were guileless, his tone willing me to understand and be rational. "That's my job, my calling."

  Calling. Gran had mentioned the dark calling. Had she been talking about Paul? I remembered her words: You have to kill Death. He will turn on you--they all will. Death is poisoning me!

  What if Paul had hurt her, and she'd thought Aric was responsible? What if Paul was crazy?

  He must have lost loved ones in the Flash. Had the apocalypse twisted him as it had every other survivor I'd met? "What exactly did my grandmother die from?" I would go back and study each word she'd written in the back of my chronicles. I would compile all she'd told me--even what I'd considered to be mad rantings.

  "Your grandmother was sick, had been suffering from strokes." In a tone that would rival a mental ward doctor's, Paul added, "Evie, do you not remember that?"