Livvy's Devil Dom

by Raven McAllan

  "Hold on, you bastards. Don't I have say in all this? I've a mind of my own, you know. Can't I say let's just get on with it?" And we can be a family. How could she cope without him?

  “You will, love, for all of us you will.” Sael's voice filled her, but before she had a chance to formulate a reply, Saffaul shook his head.

  "You must both agree and participate. You both know this. It is too late."

  "Is it?" She looked at Sael, or, she thought, the shell of him.

  "Livvy, if you love me, don't make me say no. Accept what we had, look forward to your future, and remember, now and forever, I'm part of you."

  Livvy stared at Saffaul, who still stood and watched them. "Is he? None of this crap evil Devil stuff in me? Nothing will move in when, when he's gone?"

  "That I guarantee, no evil," he said carefully. She waited, but he was silent. "Nothing else, eh?" She turned back to Sael. "You really mean this, don't you?

  "This 'all is well lost for love' stuff?" Sael nodded. "I want to be with you more than anything in any world. And if it was me fucking all and sundry, then we'd do it. But not you. Yes, double standards, but that's how I feel. Please, please accept it, and let me go with my dignity intact. Yeah? And dream of me?" He smiled. "Let's face it. You've had plenty of practice."

  Livvy knew then he wouldn't change his mind, knew she had no say in the matter. He thought he was doing the right thing. But was he?

  Epilogue

  Seven months later

  How hard was it to negotiate a doorway when you were almost eight months pregnant and as big as a bus? Livvy entered the library with difficulty and smiled at the somewhat worried librarian who stared at her.

  "Honestly, Suze, I'm not about to pop. Not now, at any rate. I feel fine."

  "Yeah, so you say." Suze, her longtime friend, snorted. "Honestly, Liv? You look like snow warmed up. Go home, rest, and be thankful. And have those babies. Soon, please, or I'll go into overdrive."

  Liv laughed. Okay, a fairly hollow laugh, but still, it could be construed as such.

  "No overdrive needed. Nic and Cherie will come where they're good and ready. Which is not," she doubled over as a sudden pain gripped her stomach. "Argh, which may well be now. Oh, shit, shit, shit. It hurts. Er, no story time today. Oh, fuck. No, I did that."

  Livvy babbled. No one had told her it would be so immediate. And so bloody painful.

  "No more fucking. It ends in tears. Then and now." She began to cry. "It's so not fair, no Daddy to see them born. No Daddy to help them grow into themselves. So. Bloody. Not. Fair."

  Livvy looked down at the bump that was her twins. Sael was right. There is life inside me. Beautiful, beautiful life.

  Her stomach contracted again. Shit, this hurts! She thought she heard voices in the air. Ours!

  "Sod off. No way are my children going anywhere." She declared it to the elements. "My children, my man."

  Well he was, until you decided otherwise, you bastards. Whoever you are.

  "Er, Liv?" Suze looked worried. "Are you having hallucinations again?"

  For the umpteenth time, Livvy wondered why she had explained her momentary bouts of blankness—times when she tried to feel Sael in her—as hallucinations.

  "Ah—no, giving birth." She laughed weakly, and then groaned again as another contraction hit her.

  He should be here. I need him, only him. I can't do it alone.

  Even now, all these months later, she still couldn't believe how Sael had been marched away from her, and she'd been summarily taken to a portal—not the one she and Sael had entered by, but a tiny, nondescript, porta-cabin type building—and returned to Scotland.

  Then nothing. Just long, lonely days, when even teaching couldn't lift her out of her dark moods. And even longer, sleepless nights, when she'd prayed to have Sael in her dreams. But she never had.

  So, there was nothing, apart from the knowledge she had been loved, well loved. And a lingering regret, tempered with relief, that things had not progressed any further on that fateful day.

  When she'd had her pregnancy confirmed, she'd cried. For the fact her children would never know their father, but also for the happy fact she had part of Sael with her forever. The understanding midwife had checked her form, seen the words “father deceased” and given her a hug.

  "We're all here for you, my pet. And call me Doris." The midwife’s soft Midlands accent and the nickname she used had brought forth a fresh flood of tears, and Livvy couldn't really tell her why.

  She'd managed a weak, "he used to call me that," and got another hug. After that it had been “love” or “chick”.

  Then, as her body grew rounder, Livvy's mood lifted. Their children needed love and attention, and she had to give enough for two.

  She felt a gush of liquid. Oh fuck, no way can I be turned on now, not at this size and about to give birth. In public, unless we move from here sharpish.

  "Wow, Livvy, your waters have broken. What do I do? Shut the library? Boil water? Tell me. I'm a novice here." Suze vacillated between looking worried and beaming. "Woo hoo to you. God, am I glad to be your birth partner. But tell me!"

  Yeah, and I know how?

  "Stay calm. Let's go home and pretend none of this has happened, and then we can do this where I want to." At home, in the bedroom where so many positive things had occurred.

  "Okay, yeah, right, now, well good. Yeah." Suze babbled and bit her nails. "Let's go. Closing time, almost, anyway. So my watch is wrong. They need to put a clock in here. Okay, let's go."

  Livvy bit her lip. She was glad she hadn't driven. It felt like someone was building a shed in her tummy. Though after five minutes of Suze's bunny jumping, she wasn't so sure driving wouldn't have been better.

  "Suze," she said in the end. "For fuck's sake. You usually drive like you were in a Grand Prix and Jensen Button was after you. What's with the stop start, oh can I do it? And, oh fuck, can I?" That is one acute pain. "We need to get home, sharpish. Like now."

  They made the ten-minute journey in six minutes. Within fifteen, Livvy was in her favorite nightshirt, the one Sael had whisked off her, with a "fetching but unnecessary" comment, stretched out on the bed, and alternately swearing and asking for drugs.

  "Anything, everything," she pleaded. "If I can't have Sael, I need the lot. C'mon, Suze, rub my back and tell me it's fine. Give me something."

  "The midwife is on her way. Hold on and think of, er, Britain?"

  Livvy remembered all the swear words she'd been forbidden to say. And said them. Twice.

  "This is so not fun." She tried to breathe through a contraction. "I give up. I want gas, air, epidural, hell, a Cesarean. Or Sael."

  The air shimmered. Livvy watched as a cloud appeared, formed into a mass of darkness, and then reformed into light and…

  You've got me, love. I'm here. Let's do it.

  Sael? Okay, it has to be a dream. But that's fine. If it means our babies will be born, dreaming will do. And I promise not to moan when my dream is over.

  That was easier said than done. Especially when the midwife—who arrived just in time to catch twin number one—Nic—wide awake and bawling his head off at the indignity as he had slid out—pronounced the baby was a he, and urged her to get on with it and bring number two into the world.

  Cherie arrived six minutes later. Even if they were six weeks early.

  "There, now, didn't we do well?" Doris, the midwife, said complacently.

  We? We? What's with the we? You just stood there. I did all the work.

  Livvy had never been so close to hitting someone. Especially as both the midwife—and Suze—had either not seen, or chosen to ignore Sael. Livvy chose to ignore their ignorance. To just say thank you and let Suze go to make a cup of tea, and Doris all the things she had to. To pronounce the twins fit and well, and depart, with the dire—to Livvy—threat that she'd be back the next day.

  She'd face that when she had to.

  Two hours later, clean, tidy, and tired, Livvy sa
t in bed, and looked at her babies, one on each breast. Suze had gotten rid of the midwife as soon as it was decent. And the two of them had defiantly had a glass of champagne each.

  To Livvy's sorrow, Sael—or his memory—had disappeared once Cherie, twin two, had been born. She could still feel his lingering kiss, hear his soft, "Thank you," and imagine his hug.

  "Okay, time to sleep." Suze said in her best “do as I say” voice. The one she used when unruly children shouted and screamed in the library. "I've made my bed. Shout if you need me. And do not argue. I'm a very light sleeper. Shout and I'll hear you."

  "Says the woman who slept through an earthquake," Livvy said, and laughed. "Seriously, Suze, if I need you, I'll shout."

  Not that she thought she would. Somehow, she knew she would be fine.

  Suze departed into the spare bedroom, still reiterating the "call me and I'll come" rules. Livvy snuggled down, a baby on each side. None of this put in a crib stuff, not yet. She needed her babies close to her. It was almost as if she could feel Sael there, loving them all.

  She dozed off. And woke with a jolt, and no babies.

  "I have them, love." Sael stood by the bed, a babe on each arm and the biggest, smuggest grin she had ever seen on a face.

  "You're dead. You're fucking dead," Livvy cried. Big fat harsh sobs, with tears that racked her body.

  "No, love, you saved me. Because you showed what you were prepared to do for us, you saved me. Because I wouldn't let you, I was also saved, to eventually be allowed to be with you. My penance for my defiance was to wait until now to come to you openly."

  Sael is really here, eyes twinkling, that wicked grin on his face, looking at me, at the babies? He really is, no dream, no wish, just here?

  "But you were dying. I saw you."

  He nodded. "Remember, I am Saffaulian. As long as I had some breath, my father could choose to allow me to live. He did—eventually—but I'm sure he made certain I wondered for a while. I think the best way to describe it is I was in a coma. I was here. I could see you, but I couldn't reach you. My world chose to let me live, but it was many moons before I came back to, well, full life, I guess."

  He smiled at her, a smile full of promise and love.

  "My, didn't we do well." He pressed a kiss on her forehead, careful not to squash either baby as they nestled comfortably in his arms.

  "Didn't we just?" Livvy said faintly. Was this a dream? Like the one she had prayed for, and never had her prayers answered about, whilst their babies grew inside her? One she would wake from, feeling lost and bereft?

  She felt the nip on her neck.

  "No, no more. I'm here if you want me. To be us, you, me, and our children. Are you up for it? Weird kids, even weirder husband, but lots of love? Sir and sub; husband and wife. Will you go for it, Liv?"

  She looked at his beloved face, touched it, lifted his wrist, and meshed their tattoos.

  "Really?" Could she believe it? So many times, she'd dreamed he was there, only to wake up lost and lonely.

  "Really. I've paid my dues. I'm with you forever. If you'll have me. The fact I put you above Saffaul, the fact you were prepared to do all to save me? Well, evidently, that's what Saffaul needs. I'm now officially alive, and not due to die until any human would. Oh, and the leader elect. Can you stand that?"

  His eyes were bright, the love shining out of them.

  Oh, could she. She showed him just how much. Even with two babies hampering them. This was love.

  The End

  www.ravenmcallan.com

  Other Books by Raven McAllan:

  www.evernightpublishing.com/raven-mcallan

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  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com