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“I’m pregnant! I’ll get them for this!”
Julie was angry.
There were several responses I could make to that. I could have observed that ‘Osiris’ and ‘Isis’ were already dead and beyond our reach. I could have observed that The Mad God, who stood behind them, was just a little out of our league. Neither of those would help. I could have commiserated with her. That wouldn’t have made any real difference, and would have been cowardice as well. So I did something else. “Then you need to come with me,” I told her.
“Why? Do you know some Voodoo priest who can make it not happen? I’m on the pill, Mark! I never missed a dose!”
It had been a couple weeks. She’d been mostly sleeping at my place – and in my bed – since the night of the solstice, but in pajamas. An old set of woolen pajamas I’d forgotten I had, and they fit her like a tent. They were also warm as hell, and I had to blast the air conditioning to compensate. She wanted to be held, but for comfort and to make her feel safe, not for anything more. Truth be told, I was a bit apprehensive myself since what happened. Men don’t like to think it can happen to them, but I’d found out personally that it could.
I locked the house, opened the door of the Porsche for her, got in myself, and headed for Beverly Hills. Maybe I could keep her distracted long enough if we talked it over on the way, so, “No, and even if I did, I’m pretty sure The Mother would be upset. I seem to recall that’s what started the whole thing rolling.”
“So tell me how being on the shit list of some nature-freak’s Earth goddess can make things any worse right now! I’m pretty sure her inability to do anything about it was why they approached us!”
I thought about that for a minute, then, “Just because she couldn’t do anything when opposed by The Mad God doesn’t mean she can’t do anything to ordinary mortals. However perverted, it was The Mother’s fertility ritual that we were part of. I still don’t know anything about magic beyond the fact that there have to be rules of some sort, but it seems likely she was constrained by our participation. When The Margrave asked us to investigate, there was no mention made of personal participation. The ritual is for the Elves and those of mixed blood, who have trouble conceiving naturally. Forcing us into it was on The Mad God and his acolytes.”
“So how did it happen?”
“Well, if the ritual’s magic wasn’t strong enough to overcome impediments to pregnancy, it would be pretty pointless, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would. Why are you trying to distract me, Mark?”
Busted. “I don’t suppose it would help to say you’ll thank me later?” When you like your women with brains, sometimes they short-circuit your plans.
She shook her golden brown head, “Good lawyers don’t play that game. Give.”
“This doesn’t concern the lawyer. Could you be Julie and trust me and enjoy the ride for a few more minutes?”
“When somebody says it doesn’t concern a lawyer, they’re wrong. Talk.”
“Alas, fair maid, if you would behold your wronger, look upon…”
“When you start talking Shakespearean dialog, the blarney flows like a river in springtime. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Damn. Nothing left but throw myself upon the mercy of the court. “What’s going on, fair lady, is me unsuccessfully trying to distract you while I set up a marriage proposal.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Copyright 2023 Dan Melson. All Rights Reserved.
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