The Guest
It was a strange night, to say the least. Long and almost sleepless. Strained with three minds brewing crazily and not exactly restful. The conversation is quiet and sparse, as Carmen asked us never to bring up our newfound fact again, and it seems none of us know what else to talk about. It all circles back around the two things – the fact that I’m pregnant with twins and that Carmen lost her child that we never knew existed, and mentioning either is a sensitive topic for both of us.
Me, I lay in bewildered and silent shock, staring at the sky, trying to get my chaotic feelings under control and absorb the reality of this while Meadow keeps watch. She’s alert, on guard, and sits staring out into the darkness, spinning to every new sound and can’t seem to switch off at all. In Colton’s absence, she’s become my ever-attentive protector, and it soothes me a little while my heart still yearns for him to come to me and hug me tight.
What I wouldn’t give for him to be laid beside me now. His face close to mine, his nose touching, his breath warming my lips. His strong arms around me keeping me warm and safe, as he always does. His gentle yet seductive tone and that accent make me weak at the knees for him. I miss him more than I can bear, and every second that passes that we’re still apart, I feel like I’m dwindling and crumbling to dust. My heart is broken with the loss of him. My soul is fighting hard to find the hope, the remedy, and to bring him home, yet I’m already so exhausted. I need him so much, more so since the witch told me that I’m carrying our children and I can’t turn if I don’t wish to harm them.
My head’s a mess, and I wonder how long they’ve existed in my belly while I was careless and patrolled with the sentinels. While I used my gifts, selfishly turned at will, and paraded around with no hint of danger of the inner workings of my body. How long have I been tired, hungry, and oblivious to my own body telling me to slow down and rest because these two little lives glow brightly in my soul? It makes me sick to my stomach that without knowing of their presence, I could have ended them with my complete ignorance and guilt clawing at me. Cutting deep and slicing my heart to shreds.
Sierra was right, even if she didn’t mean it that way – I have a little witch in me. I have two. Somewhere in my heart, it makes me warm and happy, swearing to protect them at all costs, but the troubles, the worry, and the vulnerability it gives me now claws up like a dreaded threat and chokes me into uneasy fear. I just lost my edge in this war, my upper hand. If I can’t turn, I can’t heal, so I have to make sure nothing happens to me that requires that. I can’t use my wolf gifts to become strong and huge. I can’t battle as a human, but I still have my vampire traits to fall back on, although my energy is weaker, and at least now I know why.
We all stay this way, trapped in our heads. We’re awake at odd times, sometimes together, mostly not, and nothing can pull us out of it. Dozing occasionally when our bodies give up the fight, catching minutes or more of fretful slumber but then awaken at the uncomfortable, unfamiliar surroundings with a start. This weird semi-sleep, overly nervy mood we seem to be sharing. It’s a surreal night, being somewhere strange, noises out in the dark that we have never heard back home, but like Leyanne said, nothing comes close or even ventures at the perimeter, so we feel relatively safe even with her gone. Her magic is powerful, and after she left, Meadow found symbols and etchings in a full circle outside on the derelict walls, much like the truck. So, she didn’t lie about our safety in this ruin. I guess in that, she earned one point towards trust.
The early rise of the sun doesn’t wake us as we’re already up. Boiling water, making coffee that she left behind in that trunk full of things we assume she carries with her. It’s weird. She has no transport around, yet this thing is huge, weighs a ton, and seems to carry everything she needs to travel. It’s full to the brim of clothes, books, dried foods, potion bottles, and an array of personal belongings that she has just entrusted to be left with us with no care about us opening it to get the supplies she mentioned. We made sure not to touch the grimoires stacked in one corner. Sierra’s voice comes to mind about never touching one without a witch handing it to you.
We were careful not to pry too much, only access the coffee and sweeteners, ignoring her belongings as best we could, and we kept the campsite clean. We are aware that crows still watch us as only a few left with her, and who knows, this magical bitch might have cursed her stuff, so if we did pry, we would suffer for it. There’s no telling what someone like her would do.
“Who do you think she’s bringing back with her?” Meadow cuts into my thoughts, pulling me out of the endless stirring of coffee I have been doing while daydreaming about nothing and everything all at once. I shrug, frowning with a deflated exhale and shake my head.
“Honestly, with her, it could be anyone. She’s vague, and I’m not convinced she’s sane. I still don’t know if we should trust her or not.”
“Oh, she’s sane. She’s just a little all-knowing and smug for my liking. I don’t trust her as far as I could throw her while in human form.” Carmen interjects, her face worn and drawn with dark circles under her eyes. Telltale signs she didn’t sleep at all, and she moves to rummage a small cooler beside the chest for fresh food and finds nothing. We’re all tired, bellies rumbling from hunger and fed up waiting here.
“One of us should go back to the truck for breakfast supplies. I need bacon, lots and lots of bacon.” Meadow grunts out, never cheerful in the morning without her food, and in the same breath seems to offer to be the one to do it, but I shake my head.
“I’ll go. I need the walk and the headspace. This whole thing is like a dream, and I have no grasp on reality.” I make a move to get up from my butt-numbing wooden perch but flinch at the reaction.
“No!” both snap it in unison, instantly hostile and on their feet as though ready to take me down while I blink at them in surprise.
“Luna, you should stay safe here!” Meadow grinds out harshly, furrowing her brow at me. That no-nonsense bossy femme on show motions me to sit down with a jerked thumb.
“And the babies! You’re going nowhere.” Carmen adds on, brazen with her cold, overly protective tone, then blushes as she realizes the words that came from her mouth sounded almost tender as she turns away to hide her reaction. Her face flushes red, and she makes herself busy tidying up our camp.
“I can’t even process…… I don’t feel any different. Maybe she’s wrong, and I’m not. Surely I would know, right?” I query, but Meadow narrows her gaze on me, all doubt missing in her know-it-all expression.
“At the house, Sierra said… ‘are you sure you’re not a little witch,’ because of how the book responded to you. Maybe she was right, and it’s not you, but there’s a witch inside of you growing now, and it’s only logical the book responded to them.”
We both fall quiet, and all eyes stray to my belly from three angles. A pause as it sinks in that Sierra did say that. I even went over it through the night and came to the same conclusion, and I know my DNA holds no witch. It must come from Colton. And there’s only one way it could. You can’t transfer it any other way.
Myths about vampire bites and Lycan scratches turning humans so easily are folklore, and it’s almost impossible to turn a human into a wolf. I doubt you can pass on witch DNA without a baby, and I know even the vampires have a whole process involved in turning a human to be like them. It’s not just a bite, and boom, vampire. Wolves are born, not made. Yes, even vampires are sometimes born. I assume witches too.
“I’m pregnant.” I breathe out, saying it aloud to myself to set it in there and push the doubt and disbelief away. I instinctively cover my abdomen with a protective flat hand, shuddering inside as I swallow those words and reconfirm to my brain that this is not a dream. “Oh my god. I am so not ready for this.” I blanche and shiver with the sudden wave of cold fear that courses through my body.
“Are we ever?” Meadow smiles, leaning in and rubbing my belly with affection, eyes softening, and then grimaces and casts a glance Carmen’s way almost guiltily. Carmen turns to walk away and seems to be trying to look busy, keeping her eyes averted and her face straight while giving no hint of her emotions away. I can’t ignore them coming from her, though, and how overwhelming they are in this moment in small confines. The pangs of heartbreak and loneliness, the bitter despair. I feel Meadow’s sudden drop in mood, the instant regret at being so careless and hurtful, and I’m at least glad to see Meadow has found an ounce of her compassion again. I pat Meadow’s hand and give her an understanding look, nodding softly towards Carmen with a downcast flicker of my eyebrows.
Maybe it’s time I go a little easier on her, huh? I mean, she’s been through enough.
Meadow mind links me privately, hitting the nail on the head, and I nod. I have nothing else I can add, but understanding her loss makes me view things differently in the new light of day. Carmen is complex, and it seems that one thing after another comes up about this girl, making me dislike her less and less. She should be curled up in a dark corner, crying her angst out, but she’s not. She’s a fighter, a warrior, and she’s probably holding on with everything in her to stop her from crumbling the way her mom did.
They say femmes change when motherhood hits, and maybe that’s true. Perhaps she didn’t need to carry on to birth for the changes to take effect. Because she became a mother the second that life existed. Maybe I’m softer, more compassionate, and stronger in my need to care for my people of late. Perhaps that’s because I, too, have been touched by the maternal bond.
I can’t imagine what Carmen feels or what the lack of that life has done to her since. The hollowness of its absence. Especially knowing she had to save herself and sacrifice her child in the process, all at Juan’s hands. It seems we all have reasons to hate that man’s existence.
“Good, good, you’re up.”