Page 3

CHAPTER THREE

U nwilling and quite possibly unable to drag myself from my bed, I raise my hand and try calling a plastic bottle of water to myself from across the room. It’s practically second nature on lazy mornings to use my powers this way, whether it’s to get water or switch off my alarm without moving from the comfort of my bed. However, despite having done this a million times before, even while half-asleep or blinking awake with a pounding hangover, today is the first time I fail.

The bottle wobbles as it slowly lifts. It only moves about an inch or so closer before the connection suddenly drops, causing it to roll off the table and fall uselessly to the floor. It feels like someone, somewhere, is laughing at me as the bottle manages to roll even further away thanks to its shape, which turns it in an arc across the floor.

Well, fuck.

I clutch my head in my hands as I groan from the wave of pain assaulting it, feeling it throb from what feels like vitav exhaustion, but it can’t be that. I shouldn’t be anywhere near my magical limit with how little I’ve been casting over the last week. I’ve been avoiding it, actually, considering I barely had the energy to fulfil my website’s potion orders in time to ship. Yet somehow, it feels as if I’ve spent the last forty-eight hours doing nothing but performing complex enchantments and repeated commands, without so much as a five-minute break or a snack to recharge. At the thought of food, my stomach whirls, the nausea alleviation potion I took last night having worn off already. I could cry into my pillow from the unfairness of it all.

Clearly, I’m sick. I’ve been slowly feeling worse over the last week or so. It’s obviously something that affects both the physical body and magical energy, meaning despite my best efforts to sleep it off, it’s not likely to go away by itself. Still thirsty, I reach out my hand again, staring at the sad-looking water bottle on the floor despondently when it barely twitches, not even when I strain as hard as I can to mentally pull on whatever power remains inside of me.

It’s useless, or I’m useless—for the time being, anyway.

Beyond frustrated at my failure to carry out such a simple task, I debate calling Suvi to my rescue. I know she’d be more than willing to come over and play nurse for me, but I also know she’s still on the night shift. With the sun only rising a couple of hours ago, she’s probably only been asleep for an hour or two at most at this point. I’d feel pretty shitty waking her up when I can easily go and see her in the coven’s clinic later, like everyone else.

For now, giving up on complicated things like getting out of bed or drinking water, I decide more sleep is the way to go. I roll over to keep the small sliver of sun my blinds fail to block from the room out of my eyes and pull my blankets tighter around myself.

I’ll try getting up again later, once I’ve had more rest.

Surely, that’ll help at least a little…

It’s nearly one in the morning by the time I drag myself all the way to my coven’s health clinic. It had taken all of the willpower I possess to eventually get up, get dressed, and scarf a meal bar down, only to throw it right back up again. Depressingly, my stomach’s probably more empty for my effort at eating than it would have been if I’d skipped out on it in the first place.

The one upside to being here at this ridiculous hour is how quiet it is, meaning there are no witnesses to the current disaster state I appear to be in. The clothes I’m wearing are the ones I usually only pull on when I’m not expecting any other living beings to see me. They’re old, stretchy, comfortable, and also, maybe just a little bit stained from spilling food on myself while eating and binge-watching through one of my favourite shows. Pretty sure the stain had occurred during the few days I’d spent moping after I—nope, I am not going to be thinking about that. Not a single thought about him or the stolen red shirt I’ve guiltily shoved to the bottom of my closet after catching myself sniffing it for the third time in as many days. It’s a good thing I don’t have anyone to impress right now. I didn’t even manage to brush my tangled mess of hair before leaving my apartment, far too exhausted to get through the task, my body protesting every movement. In the end, I just pulled it back into a messy ponytail while praying not to see anyone I know on the way down here.

Head pounding, I step into the clinic, closing the door behind me and scanning the entrance room. Thankfully, I find myself alone. At this hour, it’s only Suvi who’s working unless there’s an emergency and the master healers get called in, which means I’m saved from death by embarrassment. For now, anyway. I move further into the space, my hand quickly covering my mouth and nose as the onslaught of chemical and herbal smells begins making the ever-present nausea even worse.

Did it always smell this awful here?

I force myself to keep going despite the odour, hitting the button on the little desk with my free hand to alert Suvi to the arrival of a patient. I count the seconds between my breaths as I try to ride through this wave of queasiness, unsure if it’s getting better or worse for all my efforts.

“Goddess, Eden! You look awful,” Suvi exclaims as she steps into the room, forgoing pleasantries as she rushes over, tucking an arm around my shoulders and half-dragging me through the clinic.

“Thanks so much,” I mutter. I’m trying to sass her, but I end up sounding more pathetic than anything else, my words coming out more as a pained groan. She guides us into the main treatment room and ushers me onto the medical bed. There’s obvious concern etched onto her delicate features, her brow creased into an unhappy frown as she adjusts the bed so I can lean back comfortably while still mostly sitting up.

“What did you do?” she demands after a long moment of staring at me assessingly.

“Nothing!” I snap half-assed as I roll my eyes. I’m a little irritated by the assumption I did this to myself somehow, but also way too tired to be truly mad about it. “I’m just sick or something; I don’t know. You're the expert at this, not me.”

“So you didn’t do anything weird with your magic? Because your aura is looking all kinds of weird,” she replies, hazel eyes squinting a little as she stares at me. “Even without checking the exact levels, I can tell you’re dangerously low on vitav. Usually, you’d only see this kind of drop from witches attempting to cast way beyond their limit. Are you sure you didn’t try something?” she presses, though I don’t think it’s an accusation. It’s more like she’s worried I’ve done something stupid accidentally.

“I didn’t. And is that your professional medical opinion? I’m ‘all kinds of weird’?” I ask teasingly, the small flicker of humour immediately dissipating as another even worse wave of nausea hits. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Without a word, Suvi quickly hands over a blue bag for me to vomit into. Her hand rubs soothingly on my back as I throw up what must be mostly water and stomach acid by this point. She waits patiently for me to be done before disposing of the bag, quickly returning and taking the seat beside the bed. “What are your symptoms?”

“Well, you saw the nausea. Also, headaches and exhaustion. I’m all achy; stuff smells extra bad,” I list my symptoms off, trying to make sure I don’t miss anything. “And like you said, my magic is all weird. I can barely even use basic energy commands. I failed to summon a water bottle from across the room earlier; I’ve met toddlers with more power than I have at the moment.”

“Hmm. Well, it’s not surprising you’d struggle even with the basics, considering how low you are. How long has this been going on for?” Suvi asks while leaning over and placing a cool hand on my forehead, closing her eyes in concentration.

Knowing she’s still listening, even as she does her healer thing, I try to think of exactly when it all started. “I’m not sure when it began, maybe about a week ago? It wasn’t this bad at first. I was a little more tired than usual, but this morning I couldn't even get out of bed. I felt so awful.”

“Okay, I’m not picking up any obvious signs of curses or infections. Are you okay with me doing a more intense scan? You’ll feel my presence, similar to a shared meditation or collaborative magic. Some people also experience tingling, tickling, or mild burning sensations as it moves through their body. It shouldn’t hurt, though,” she explains. The words sound rote, like it’s something she’s had to repeat so many times before she’s on autopilot, forgetting who it is she’s talking to.

“You do whatever you gotta do, Doctor Suv,” I tell her jokingly, letting my eyes close as I wait it out. I trust Suvi to treat me, and I’d never worry about her presence pressing against mine anyway with how close the two of us are. Considering we’ve cast complex spells together before, where a little presence mingling is to be expected, it won’t be anything new. Not to mention that witch projects real hard in her sleep after drinking a little too much when we go out. I’m surprised the other witches in her building have never complained. Suvi has some really weird dreams, and getting sucked into another witch’s mind when you’re unconscious is a little like getting brain-punched. Once she projected an insane nightmare with cat-faced clowns and a constant sensation of falling. It was wildly unsettling, and she’d had the audacity not to remember a single thing about it!

Suvi’s hand pulls away from my forehead, and I feel her leaning over me, her familiar energy brushing against mine as she reaches out. As always, she feels like warmth, sunflowers, and full-bodied squeezie hugs, comforting in all the right ways. Despite having my eyes closed, while we’re connected, I’m fully aware of both of her hands being held a couple of inches above my head. She remains in the same position for a few moments before very slowly moving down my body, maintaining the same amount of distance between me and her hands as she searches for a cause to my sickness. It tingles as she probes away with her magic, but thankfully there’s no pain during the examination, not even a mild burning.

I can still feel the concern radiating from her, and because of the connection, I can also tell when her worry intensifies. She comes to an abrupt stop over my middle, hand dropping to press gently over my lower stomach. “There’s plenty of vitav remnants clustered here. Why is it being pulled— fuck. ”

My eyes fly open, and I stare up at Suvi, who’s currently looking at my stomach like there’s some kind of evil alien parasite about to burst out from it. Goddess, please don’t let my life turn into a sci-fi horror flick. I’m pretty sure even witches can’t breathe in space. “Fuck?” I prompt her quietly, swallowing my nerves along with the lump in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” Suvi blurts, her voice sounding way too upset for my comfort. “I shouldn’t have said it, not here?—”

“Don’t worry about that . You’re my best friend. I’d rather you talk to me as a friend than a patient. Honestly, if you’re saying fuck while trying to be professional, I’m guessing whatever’s wrong with me really deserves that level of reaction.” Trying to keep calm, I take a deep breath before asking, “So, tell me, what the fuck is it?”

Anything but an alien parasite, please.

“You’re pregnant.”

I take it back. Alien parasites are suddenly starting to sound not so bad at all…

“But it’s—there’s a complication,” Suvi adds. She really does sound terrified, her fear ratcheting up my own anxiety higher, even as I begin to doubt her diagnosis. Because how can I be pregnant? Since when? I’ve had sex with a man once in the last six months, and that was less than two weeks ago! Surely, you don’t find out about these things so quickly? I’m not an expert in pregnancy or babies, but twelve days from conception doesn’t seem long enough to be making me this sick.

“I can’t be pregnant; it’s literally impossible.”

“Have you had sex recently?” Suvi asks as if she already knows the answer.

“Well, I did, but twelve days isn’t long enough for it to be causing morning sickness already. I don’t think,” I answer, desperately trying not to panic. Suvi has to be wrong. She has to be. “I used protection, a contraceptive potion! I made it myself, so I know it was good.”

“Outside factors can cause them to not work as intended, especially during a celebration of fertility, like the beginning of spring,” she points out, nervously wringing her hands as she steps back and takes a deep breath. “The species of the father, mixed with a sacred holiday for our kind. And of course there’s always a chance the potion could fail, no matter how well-brewed it was. Hell, some species don’t even respond to them. Like dragons. Their seed blows right through condoms too…” she trails off, seeming to realise she’s rambling a little.

Species of—Oh shit. He really was some kind of otherworlder, wasn’t he? Is that why the baby—thing—foetus is such an energy drain, both on my body and my magic? I know while magical beings from Earth generate their own energy internally from stuff like eating and sleeping, most otherworlders tend to syphon their vitav from outside sources.

“Do you know what kind of otherworlder?” I ask, already racing through the options in my head. There are a lot of otherworlders in existence, but not many come here, and even fewer come in large numbers, making a lot of them highly unlikely. I’m not certain if fae can reproduce with witches; honestly, I’m about ninety-nine percent sure they can’t. I sigh. It’s not likely to be one of them despite their kind being one of the more common visitors to our humble little plane of existence.

The only other species spotted as frequently as them would be…fuck. Ash couldn’t be one of them, could he?

“You don’t know?” Suvi asks, practically choking on the words as she stifles a horrified laugh, as if she might actually want to scream or cry instead. It does nothing for my slowly crumbling wall of denial.

I shake my head, unable to form words as the obvious answer stares at me right in the face. It also happens to be the answer any witch in their right mind would dread hearing. History tells us very clearly what a terrible idea a child of our two species would be. They’re too powerful and destructive for any good witch to accept, for any coven to allow to live. I’d be an outcast at best and hunted down at worst.

“Well…congrats, bestie,” Suvi begins, words laced in an obvious, biting sort of humour, even as she reaches to squeeze my hand comfortingly in hers. It’s a physical anchor of reassurance as she breaks the terrible news in the way she knows will freak me out the least. I squeeze her hand back even tighter, needing it as she continues to verbalise what I already know and simply don’t want to accept. “You’re having a demon.”