by Amanda Milo
Callie is back to Angie, holding out her hands in a clear gesture of pleading. “Do you have something with caramel and nuts? I’ve had the worst craving for months.”
Angie feels around her suit until she locates the pocket she’s searching for. “Here you go. What’s your favorite kind?”
Callie stares at the array of this special chocolate like it’s manna, not processed vegetable bean matter.
For the record, I have offered her processed vegetable bean matter.
She has never declared me the befft effvah.
“No favorite, not anymore - I’ll take anything.”
When I chance a look at Arokh, his brow scales sit high, probably a mirror for mine. “I saw this with my female too. The effect of chocolate is magical.”
Magic isn’t the word I’d use…
“Dohrein confirmed that we are growing this immediately,” he says before I can ask.
I just nod.
“And Tahmoh retrieved this,” Arokh says as he hands me a rolled up bundle. “Pretty! What is that?” Callie asks - poised with her fingers in the middle of tearing another foil paper off of the treat she has been craving for months.
I note that she is much improved in demeanor; no trace of irascibility now.
She beams at me. “Have I told you how much I love you today?
I pause.
That settles it. Perhaps chocolate is magical.
She can have as much as she needs.
I’ll hoe the rows of it myself.
How many rows for a metric ton of beans?
She laughs. Happily.
Doesn’t matter, I’ll do it.
“Z?”
I shake my horns and blink. She gestures to my hands. I hold the corners and let it unroll to show her our blanket.
Callie pops her treat into her mouth, stuffing it into her cheek as if she has a pouch there.
I’m learning more about my female…
“I’ve seen this!” she shouts.
“How?” Angie asks, confused. “Tahmoh had to dig it out of a trunk in Zadeon’s room. I thought you snuck into cargo with him…”
Callie gives her a surprised look. “All true, but no - no, I’ve dreamed of this.”
Then Callie clamps her mouth shut.
Angie cocks out a hip and places her hand on it. The overall effect is one that telegraphs great skepticism. “Sugar is supposed to rot your teeth, not your brain.”
“It rots your teeth?” Arokh growls at the same time I reach for Callie’s last piece.
She yanks her hand behind her back and gives me a glare that I wouldn’t cross even if an entire stadium was screaming for me to charge.
To Angie, she says, “It’s a long story.”
“Or a very short one,” I counter. I point to the blanket. “My sister made this for me so that I could court females.”
This Callie did not know, and she loses her hostility and instead looks most curious.
I am pleased to note that she doesn’t feel threatened; to me this means she must trust that I wouldn’t have bothered courting any females.
I didn’t. I knew I had one. Instead, I invested my time in trying to find her.
“Does yours turn into a dress too?” Angie asks.
“A blanket-dress?” Callie asks.
She lets me throw it around her shoulders - then we both freeze.
There’s a feeling of rightness to this.
And with sadness, I think of my sister and my dam who would have delighted in bestowing a full ceremony on Callie.
Callie lifts her eyes to mine and smiles reassuringly. “Show me.”
When I fasten it around her the effect is…
I wrap my tail around her back and bring her a little closer. “You’re the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen.”
“Awww,” she says, and throws her arms around me. Then she pulls back and faces the wall closest to us. “I... want to see my reflection.”
A hush falls as she examines not only our blanket, but herself.
“I never realized how depravating it is not to see your reflection every day. Even the glass of doors would do that panel-meld thing before I reached them.”
“Really? Weird. I bet someone could have fixed that for you,” Angie offers.
“I asked them to take it away,” Callie explains. “The teams have great attention to detail.”
She looks back at herself, her eyes moving all over in a mix of wonder and shock. “I don’t even recognize me. I have some muscle,” she says, and flexes her upper arms. I don’t look like me anymore. And I think… I think that’s a good thing. I look... strong,” she finishes in a whisper.
Watching her lips in the reflective surface, I respond without hesitation. “Because you are.”
Angie makes a noise to gain Callie’s attention. “Not that I’m not going to tell a pregnant woman to stop, but… you’d better go easy on the rest of those.”
“Why should she go easy?” I ask - not belligerently. I’m simply curious.
“Because if she doesn’t, she’s going to make herself sick.”
I look to Callie.
She gives me a weak smile. “Too late. I feel like my system’s going into a bit of sugar-choc shock.”
My hearts begin to race and I lunge for her. “This can hurt you?”
I want to rip the last package out of her hand and throw it across the room. The other women have discovered the last box of chocolates and they are snarling like beasts.
From the other end of the commons, I hear a very loud, outraged shout:
“Are you serious? Cujo over there gets to bite people all day, but I bite one time and I’m on lockdown? This is bullshit!”
“This is what happens when you can’t behave.”
“Cut the sanctimonious, self-righteous crap. You wanted to bite her too. I saw your fangs, Dohrein!”
“Yes, of course, my princess,” it doesn’t escape my notice - or Gracie’s - that he only defers to her like this when he feels that she is being unreasonable. “But you might have noticed; I restrained myself.”
“I did restrain myself - I didn’t kill her!”
“What did she do?” Callie asks, trying not to laugh.
Gracie’s head swings to her, then to me and her startled eyes tell us without words.
Mandi was talking about Callie.
Again.
CHAPTER 42
CALLIE
Zadeon’s hands land on the table - but it’s loud clicks I hear before the slap of his palm ever connects with the surface. The clicks are from his claws. His many, many sharp, deadly claws.
“Welcome back!” I tell Gracie cheerily.
“You are bleeding,” Dohrein’s voice is chilling. “I told you I smelled it.”
Gracie wipes at her cheek. “It’s fine.”
“Mandi hurt you?”
“She clawed my face. Don't worry. We had a real good come-to-Jesus moment.”
Dohrein looks over my head. And looks. And looks.
Zadeon places a hand on my shoulder. I twist around to look at him. “What?”
His expression is one of extreme reluctance. “I can heal her wound.”
“Whoaaa,” Gracie says. “No tongue.”
Zadeon’s expression clears when he looks at her. “I can just spit on you.”
“That’d be… great? Thanks?” Gracie laughs. “My life is so fucking weird.”
When Zadeon moves to stand over Gracie; for the first time, I see her become genuinely uncomfortable with him.
I know that look.
I’ve made that look.
“Hey Z? Spit on my hand,” I say, and push my way inbetween them, my belly working very well to cut them off from each other. Gracie relaxes instantly and Zadeon seems relieved.
“Well, this is gross,” I say as I rub the saliva into the wounds.
“Says the mate of the alien who is currently smearing her mate’s spit into my face.”
I lean a little so I c
an meet her eyes. “To answer the two little words that are right on the tip of your tongue; You’re welcome.”
“That’s your answer for ‘Fuck You’? Huh.”
I pat her cheek a little harder and she winces and laughs - and then Dohrein is right there.
Wow. I’ve never had him be so… protective of her. Not with me.
I hold my hands up in surrender and Gracie grabs the top of one of his wings and gives it a little shake. “It’s fine, I deserved it. Thanks Weepy.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Thanks for the nickname. Guess what everybody knows me as here? I’ll give you a hint; it’s not Callie.”
She pretends to suck a regretful breath through her teeth. “Yeah well, you didn’t talk - I almost called you Sphinx but that’s way too cool a nickname for you. Hell, maybe I’ll stop talking and take that one myself.”
“Please do.”
Gracie air-nudges me, careful not to even get near my belly. “Come on. I bet it made you think of me lots while I was gone.”
“It made me curse you lots,” I correct.
“Same thing!”
◆◆◆
I’m happy to have my friends back.
I’m happy to see the mementos they brought me from home.
I’m happy for chocolate. And sugar.
And Zadeon.
I go to sleep uncomfortable, my lower back aching so bad that I can barely get comfortable enough to lie still.
The pressure is intense tonight.
Too much excitement, too much fun, too much sugar? No such thing.
I’m so happy, I don’t complain.
…too much.
Zadeon is probably glad he can’t hear me - I think that’s why he’s giving me that indulgent, relieved look.
Or maybe it’s because I’m happy. I may have gotten a little bit moody these last few weeks.
Finally, finally, finally when he helps me shift to my left side for the second time in the night, I’m able to drift off.
It seems like only moments after I close my eyes that Zadeon is waking me - which is about the same time I realize I’m very, very soaked.
“Callie?” His voice is strained. “I believe your water broke.”
CHAPTER 43
ZADEON
Gently, I sweep Callie’s forelock off her face, and peel up the strands sticking to her cheek. “She so tired,” I croon sadly.
“She’ll be okay. She’s resting in between contractions, and that’s the best thing she can do right now. She’s got this. Callie’s tough.”
That she is. I trace the silvery lines on her face.
When I look up, I see Angie watching with curiosity. “What happened?”
“It was a vehicle attack,” I tell her.
All alone, she had to be cut out of the vehicle’s belly.
Well. Not alone. Just the lone survivor.
Her dam and the scrawny human that she had taken as her guard died in the same attack.
I remember her grief.
Her loneliness afterward.
She has told me that hearing my songs of comfort in her dreams was all that kept her going.
Even if she didn’t dance again.
Not until she joined me.
She’s been doing so well.
She is so strong.
She can do this.
Creator, help her safely do this.
“Like a car accident? Is that what," she whirls her fingers around her face once then closes them, “-happened!” Her eyes go massive and show white. “Holy shit. Glass shards! Poor Callie…”
She takes Callie’s hand. “I told you she was strong. Damn.”
There was never any doubt of that.
Callie’s body tenses hard and her eyes fly open. She grunts low, her arms coming around her stomach.
Angie bends down to peek under Callie’s gown.
And then.
Callie screams.
◆◆◆
CALLIE
Angie lets go of my gown and stumbles away from between my legs (really NOT what a woman in the middle of delivery wants to see her doctor do) just as Arokh lands on Zadeon. A tray of instruments goes crashing to the floor, and I grip the railing of the bed as my body strains.
Suddenly, Gracie whistles loud enough to stop traffic - and Angie claps her gloved hands. “Okay, those were sterile. Shame, shame, shame on you, Zadeon - you know I’m not hurting her. We’ve got nowhere we can put you and you don’t want to leave her all alone, right?”
Zadeon is snarling and has his brother’s tail halfway to his mouth to bite into it, I think.
I hold out my hand. “Z?”
He flips Arokh and lunges for me.
Angie points a finger at his nose. “Don’t pull that again. She doesn’t need that shit.” Then she turns to me - sans the wagging finger - and says, “Callie, sweetheart, any chance you can bear down and not scream? It seems to break something in his fragile,” she growls this word, “-fragile mind.”
I nod.
Zadeon looks abashed. I stroke his arm and mouth, “It’s okay,” which makes him perk up a little.
Angie hollers, “I need sterilized clamps, and another baby-snot-sucker please.”
The next contraction comes so much faster. I squeeze Zadeon’s hand - and watch him surreptitiously shake out his fingers afterward.
I fall back and smile at him weakly. Angie picks up my gown again. I ask, “Were you a midwife?”
Her eyes go a little wide, and a little wary. “Um, not exactly.”
I feel my eyes narrow. “But… you have done this before, right?”
“Oh yeah,” she assures. “Once officially.”
My hands are gripping the siderails hard enough to make the metal squeak but this time not from a contraction. “You’ve only helped deliver one kid!”
Her brows lift. “Ah, I’ve delivered tons of kids. Tons.”
I throw my arm over my face to cover my eyes. “You’re not talking about human kids, are you?”
“Nope.”
She pats my knee. “But I did help deliver one human kid and it really wasn’t as different as you’d think. And this time, I’m going to remember to have the kid nurse right away to help you have an easier time delivering the afterbirth.”
“Are you telling you or are you telling me?”
“Remind me, okay?”
“Great.” I blink fast.
“Hey, it’s okay. I have an entire team of hobs here just waiting to step in and help if they need to. They picked up all sorts of books when we were back home and these boys know how to study. By now some of them could probably pass whatever tests brain surgeons have to take - they hit the books hard.”
“That’s great. Hopefully we will have no need for a novice brain surgeon today.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah-” I start, but I’m cut off with another crippling wave of pain. I open my mouth to cry - but clamp down on the noise at the last moment so the squeak escaping sounds only a little more innocuous than a singing tea kettle. Zadeon is tense but in control.
And… not screaming actually helped a little. I think. I hope.
“This is hell,” I moan, and Zadeon brushes his nose across my forehead anxiously.
“My dream,” he murmurs. “You are doing so good.”
“How would you know?” I wail wretchedly.
Then I grab his hand and kiss it. “I’m sorry.” More tears leak from my eyes. “That was mean.”
He just kisses my forehead.
As the labor progresses, Z’s extremely agitated watching me spiral in an ever-increasing, unending amount of pain.
“Dear Puff the Magic Dragon,” Angie tries to sing - but it comes out through her gritted teeth. She fans her hands until it is clear enough for him to see her face. “You’re going to kill her with smoke inhalation. Calm your shit down.”
I want to defend him but I’m gritting my teeth and making noises like a dying beluga. No, I’ve never heard
one, but I’m sure. “I’ve got to scream,” I tell - I don’t know. I don’t know who I’m even telling anymore.
“How about swearing? Zadeon, does it bother you if she shouts?”
He pets me. “It will be fine. Whatever you need. It will be fine.” Then he holds my hand like he hopes our connection will keep him from losing his mind.
He looks like he’s already walking a tightrope with his control.
Angie notices this too. “Okay, Cal - give sailors a run for their money. See if that helps.”
It was therapeutic, really.
This ‘transition stage’ of labor had to be a special circle in hell.
But instead of screaming-at-the-father-cliche, I shouted curses at my rapists. All of whom had died gory, painful deaths that I only hoped hurt a thousand times worse than what I was going through right now because of them.
Zadeon confirmed they were very painful deaths although I noticed - in his extreme level of agitation - that he couldn’t promise me that he felt they had it worse than I did in this moment.
“How hard did you bite them?” I cried.
“In half,” he promised. “And some of them took multiple bites before I was able to sever them.”
“Gee, this is fabulous to hear - and no matter how sarcastic that just sounded; I mean it - but if you two could be quiet for just a moment, I want to check the heartbeat,” Angie cuts in.
Earlier, I had flinched at the press of cold metal on my hot skin.
This time, Zadeon snags the end before it can touch down - pulls it right out of Angie’s hand - and he puffs steam on the end of it.
Angie rips the plugs out of her ears. “Moron! Warn me next time! I don’t care how sweet that was! It’s really, really loud on my end.” Arokh puts a warning hand on her shoulder.
Despite everything… I laugh a little.
Both of them stop glaring at each other long enough to send relieved smiles my way.
And then it’s time.
Angie checks me and gives me the permission I’ve been waiting for. “Finally! You’re dilated, yaaaay. You can push.”
◆◆◆
“You did it! Way to go, Mom!” Angie whoops as she very carefully scoops what feels like one of those “World Fair’s Largest Watermelons” out of an orifice that in a previous life barely allowed a pencil-thin tampon.