Pranic, Pregnant, and Petrified (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 3)

by Karen Ranney

  I decided to ask Dan.

  “They have a different bio impedance,” he said.

  I remained silent rather than demonstrate my ignorance.

  He smiled, reached for my hand, and drew a square on the back of it with his finger.

  “If I put a small electrode on your skin and applied an alternating current to it, your skin would react a certain way. The way you respond would be different from the way I do.”

  “So the drones send out an electrical current?” I asked.

  “In a way. It’s a probe. We’ve found that vampires don’t have the same bio impedance range as humans.”

  "And you have those detectors mounted on the fence around the castle, too, don't you?"

  It was only a guess, but he nodded.

  "Do you have anything similar to detect witches?"

  "No."

  There was something more to that answer, something I wasn't getting, but I let it go for now. We had a lot of those aborted conversations, things we should have discussed, but didn't. On my part I don't know if it was embarrassment or my choice to avoid humiliation or simply not wanting to know everything. Sometimes, too much information was simply too much information.

  "So, are all the witches are gunning for me?"

  I had been unpardonably rude last night, but if I had to do it over again, I would have done the same thing. I don't see how I could've sat there with the knowledge I’d just been given and attempted anything like a cordial conversation.

  Let’s pretend, shall we? Strip the drama from my life, the fact that I was a vampire and all the other stuff, and pretend that I was just a normal woman. As a normal woman I couldn't help but wonder if other pregnant women felt the way I did. I didn't want to share the knowledge that I had this little person inside me yet. I wanted to keep the information mine. I wanted to revel in the mystery of becoming a mother, the sheer wonder of being pregnant, of creating a life.

  Besides, my condition made me even more dangerous to people around me. If Maddock knew, he would move heaven and earth to get to me.

  I was hoping that Dan had super duper Ranger sperm armed with little bayonets between their teeth and hand grenades on their wiggly little tails. That image was immediately replaced by one of a fanged sperm, dressed in a microscopic black tux.

  Please, let me have been impregnated by a human.

  I was being paranoid for two.

  “They were upset when you left. You know how important the meeting was, Marcie.”

  “I know.”

  “But you’re not going to tell me why?”

  "I can't tell you," I said. “Not right now.”

  I didn’t want thirteen witches to see me scream or descend into maniacal laughter. Heaven only knows what would have happened then.

  But I wasn't going to lie to Dan. First of all, I didn't lie well. I couldn't remember all the various permutations of the lie I’d begun. It was just easier to tell the truth. But in this case, I wanted a few more days.

  He was studying me in that way he had. I would bet that he knew my exact pulse rate and what my blood pressure was, not to mention my temperature. He probably knew how many times I blinked in a minute and what my tells were.

  Finally, he nodded. Just one nod.

  In that instant, what I felt for Dan Travis became deeper and resonated more than anything I’d ever felt for another man. With that single gesture, he accepted my word. He accepted me, weird Marcie, a little warped, certainly confused and most definitely working on terrified. He didn't demand that I explain. He didn’t make me promise. He simply accepted what I said and I loved him for it.

  The reason I was blinking back tears was no doubt due to the rush of hormones throughout my body. Pranic vampire or not, I was pregnant. I was going to be emotional. I had been very teary eyed when I was pregnant as a human. I burst into tears at any commercial that featured babies, animals, smiling men, and pretty music. And the SPCA commercial? I cried for fifteen minutes. I was, as Bill said on more than one occasion, a blubbering basket case. Of course, this was the man who got all choked up when the Dallas Cowboys lost the playoffs. He put his bobble head doll in a place of honor for next season and warned me to be careful dusting it.

  “Are you all right?” Dan asked. “You’re crying.”

  I mustered up a smile, which must have looked odd, but all he did as extend an arm around my shoulders and pull me close.

  “I told the witches it was an emergency,” he said when I pulled away and wiped my tears with my hands. “I pretended I knew what the hell was going on.”

  I put one hand on his thigh. Hormones, again. Or maybe just the fact that I was a woman and he was a handsome, sexy man. I might be weepy, but I wasn’t dead. Oops, I was.

  “I explained the situation with the OTHER," he said.

  "Did they believe you?"

  He glanced over at me, frowning. "Why wouldn't they?"

  “Your grandfather being the founder and all.”

  “You might say my mother vouched for me.”

  For a moment I’d forgotten that his mother was a powerful witch.

  "Did your grandfather ever allow your mother to come to the castle?"

  "No," he said.

  I didn't know Janet, but I would be willing to guess that the first time she'd come to Arthur’s Folly was on the day of Arthur Peterson's death. She probably came to dance a little jig. Or maybe scatter his ashes in a witchy kind of way.

  "So she’s always known about the OTHER," I said.

  He nodded.

  “That couldn’t have made her happy.”

  “No, it didn’t. She thought my grandfather was a dangerous man.”

  I glanced at him. “How did you feel about him?”

  He stared straight ahead at the bushes in front of us. “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “The people we love don’t have to be perfect,” I said, knowing how conflicted he must feel. I felt the same way about Nonnie. “Loving your grandfather doesn’t mean you’re like him,” I said, wanting to comfort him in some fashion, ease the burden of the guilt he must have felt for loving Arthur Peterson.

  “I’m not sure I loved him,” he said, surprising me. “I admired him for his determination and ambition. He started with nothing and he built an empire. I respected his business acumen. I appreciated that he loved my grandmother so much. But when he hated, he hated like no one else I’ve ever seen. He never got over my father dying.”

  Dan had already told me that his grandfather had blamed his mother because she’d somehow survived the car accident that had killed his father. Maybe that’s when he went off the rails, because he formed the OTHER not long after that.

  “Did he really think that magic saved your mother?”

  He glanced over at me. “Magic is the province of witches,” he said, shrugging.

  “None of the other Brethren have magical abilities?”

  “You don’t know very much about the Brethren, do you?”

  I was beginning to think I didn’t know much about anything, but I kept that revelation to myself.

  “That’s why witches aren’t that happy about you,” he said, startling me again. “You’re a hybrid. You probably have some talent for magic.”

  “Like hell,” I said. I turned on the bench and stared at him. “Okay, the only thing I can do is that zappy thing, but that’s the goddess in me.”

  “You sure?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that.

  “They want to test you.”

  “What?”

  “The witches want to test you, to determine your magical abilities.”

  “I don’t have any magical abilities,” I said, but it wasn’t as forceful a declaration as it might have been.

  My grandmother had never talked to me about witchcraft. Neither had my mother. Until I’d become a vampire, I hadn’t realized that Nonnie was a witch and my mother didn’t have any skill in the art.

  Did I? And if I did, what did that mean?
<
br />   “Are they making that part of the agreement to be on our side? If I test negative on the witchy meter, are they saying they don’t want anything to do with me? Or if I test positive, that they’ll protect me because I have some magical abilities?”

  “It isn’t part of the deal,” he said. “They just want to know.”

  “That doesn’t sound right,” I said. “Look, I’ve never been around a group of witches, a convening of witches, whatever you call a mass sighting of witches until last night, but one thing I do know is that nobody ever wants to know anything just because. There’s an agenda there and I want to know what it is. What kind of test is it? One of those Salem trials thing? If I drown, I’m not a witch? If I float, I am?”

  His laughter startled me into smiling.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it’s in the realm of seeing if you can make things disappear, cast spells, have any reaction when placed next to crystals, that sort of thing.”

  That still didn’t sound right, but I decided not to argue the point. After all, Dan had probably gotten the information from his mother and one didn’t come between a man and his mother, especially if one had designs on the man.

  Well, not right now, but maybe in the future.

  “They’re sending another delegation here tomorrow,” he said. “Do you have any plans, any last minute meetings, anything that will interfere with attending?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t expecting another phone call from my gynecologist, if that’s what he was asking. Still, I wasn’t sure another meeting right now was a good idea. I didn’t know how in tune witches were, especially Nonnie, but I didn’t want one of them figuring out I was pregnant. Not yet, not before I’d taken steps to protect my child.

  Don’t ask me what those were. I hadn’t a clue, only that I had to do something.

  “Does it have to be tomorrow?” I asked.

  He looked at me. I bit my lip, glanced away, absolutely enthralled by the sight of a snail making his way home. Where had he been all day? Out with the snail guys? Had they been watching worm football?

  “Is there a reason why it shouldn’t be?” His tone was even, but there was an edge to it.

  I didn’t know much about the Rangers, but I’ll bet only a certain type of man got into the Army program. I had the feeling that, in addition to the rigorous physical requirements I’d heard about, an applicant had to pass other kind of tests as well. Things like: can you outstare your opponent, remain silent in that cobra stalking kind of way, transform your expression to resemble a stone mask? Pass, pass, pass.

  I looked back at him. “If I said yes, but I couldn’t tell you, would you trust me?”

  That was asking a lot, even for Dan and he was one of the most generous people I’d ever known.

  He finally looked away, giving me the feeling I’d just been released by an invisible lariat.

  I think I’ve watched too many old episodes of Wonder Woman.

  “You want me to trust you, but you can’t trust me.”

  It didn’t have anything to do with trust, but everything to do with not wanting to reveal my pregnancy right now. My knowledge was only twenty-four hours old. Short of calling the Vampire Help Line, I hadn’t come up with any concrete ways to tell who might be the father.

  If Dan was the father, that was one thing. But Maddock being the baby daddy?

  Being pregnant with a vampire’s child would change the dynamic in a whole bunch of ways I hadn’t even figured out yet. The witches sure as hell wouldn’t be pleased. Maybe someone would target me for, well, extinction, for lack of a better term. I didn’t just have myself to look after, I had another creature, one who might just be gnawing through the umbilical cord as I sat there worrying.

  Let’s face it, harboring a woman who was bearing the first ever vampire baby might be too much for even Dan to handle. The whole vampire world would descend on Arthur’s Folly. I don’t care how fragile Opie said they were, I’d be willing to bet a whole bunch of vampires would be right up there in the mega-scary department.

  Even the idea made me nauseous.

  “You’re going to have to give me something, Marcie. Agree to some date.”

  “Give me a week.”

  A week would give me time to talk to Dr. Fernandez. Maybe he’d have some ideas of some tests I could have. I wasn’t about to call Dr. Stallings again, not after she’d betrayed me to Maddock.

  He nodded. “A week.”

  “One more thing,” I said.

  He didn’t look like he was feeling all that magnanimous and I couldn’t blame him. I’d asked and asked for stuff and hadn’t given him anything in return. No information and only a teensy bit of honesty.

  “What?”

  “Does it have to be all the witches again? Can’t it be a smaller group, say your mother and my grandmother?”

  He stood, looking down at me. “I’ll ask. Don’t be surprised if they say no. I’ve got some calls to make. Can you find your way back?”

  For the first time since I’d met Dan we were parting in, if not anger, then certainly irritation. I’d made him mad before, a few times on purpose. But I’d never had the feeling like I did now that it was serious, as in a crevasse between us, one the size of the Grand Canyon.

  I stood as well. “I know you don’t want to talk about Mike, but you have to tell me something.”

  “He’s not good,” he said. “We’ve moved him to one of the sub-level rooms.”

  Either I was dense or he wasn’t telling me enough.

  “Why?”

  “They don’t have any windows.”

  I’d been in the clinic/hospital rooms myself. The room I’d occupied had been just like any normal metropolitan hospital with an emphasis on state of the art. The window had overlooked the garden Arthur Peterson had planted for his wife. The sun had been bright on my bed, waking me.

  “You think he’s going to become a vampire,” I said.

  He didn’t answer me. I had already pushed him as far as I dared.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said, polite to the last. He might be super pissed, but he was always a gentleman.

  I watched him leave, wanting to call him back. Wanting to tell him things I couldn’t say. Wanting him to hug me. A kiss might be nice, too.

  I needed to sleep now. Really sleep and pretend, just for a little while, that everything was perfectly normal and I needed to get to work in the morning. I’d wake with my alarm, get on the treadmill, make my coffee, then shower. I’d be in the office before anyone else, even my boss. Eager beaver Marcie, destined for great things.

  I left the courtyard before I started laughing like a loon.

  Chapter Six

  I Didn't Need Anyone To Tell Me He Was Dying

  I left the courtyard and headed for the elevator. I didn't go to the kennel to pick up Charlie, because dogs weren’t allowed in hospital rooms.

  Dan said that Mike was in one of the subterranean rooms. I don’t know what I expected in level S-2, but it wasn’t the bright, wide corridor and dozens of people passing by, most of them smiling, all of them looking as if they had a place to go and a reason to be there.

  The castle wasn’t just a private home of the uber uber rich. Something else was going on here and I would have stopped someone and asked if I thought I’d get an answer. People at Arthur’s Folly were loyal and tight lipped. I couldn’t criticize Dan all that much since I was being Marcie Mum myself.

  The main corridor branched off into several smaller corridors to the left and right, each marked, thank heavens. I passed the Eco Lab, the cafeteria, Human Resources, Training, and something called R&R. I didn’t know if that stood for Rest and Relaxation or Research and Reversal.

  I’d have to ask Dan. Would he tell me? He hadn’t been all that forthcoming about Mike and he’d probably be angry that I was here. I knew, logically, that it wasn’t my fault Mike had been injured. Maddock was the one who’d sucked on him like Mike was a straw. But Mike had accompanied me on my
visit to the gynecologist, a wasted trip as it turns out. If I’d only known I was pregnant before going, Mike wouldn’t have been injured and I wouldn’t have had to see Maddock again. And been scared out of my skull.

  I decided to ask someone if there was a hospital wing, but I caught sight of a woman in a white coat in the farthest corridor from the elevators. I strode forward with confidence, a trick I’d learned when facing down railroad personnel or co-insurers. It was never let ‘em see you sweat bravado that worked most of the time. If nothing else, it made me focus on the attitude I was exuding so that I faked it well.

  The white coated woman was wearing heels so high I wondered at her penchant for masochism. By the end of the day her arches would probably be killing her, not to mention her big toes. I had to admit, though, that they made her legs look great.

  She was leaning against the counter of a five sided nurse’s station. A series of monitors were on the work surfaces. No doubt they were all the neatest and newest gadgets. The nurse, however, wasn’t there. Three open doors on the left side of the corridor revealed state of the art hospital rooms. The door closest to the station was closed and it made me wonder if Mike was in there. Or behind one of the four closed doors to the right.

  Eight hospital rooms? I thought the setup on the first floor was all the medical facilities at the castle. Hadn’t Dan said that his grandfather’s clinic, the one where he experimented on witches and vampires, wasn’t located at the castle. Had I remembered that wrong?

  Just what the hell was going on at Arthur’s Folly?

  The doctor turned and I found myself wanting to stop and stare. I’ve always thought that Asian women were beautiful. Jemima Fong, MD - her name was embroidered in blue thread on the right side of her coat - was truly gorgeous.

  Why was it that some women seemed to have it all? They were intelligent, talented, and spectacular.

  Her eyes were a shade of blue tinged with green, making me wonder if she was wearing colored contacts. Her black hair was scraped back into a bun, revealing a perfect oval of a pale face with expressive black brows and a pink mouth formed in a solemn expression.