Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3) (4 page)

In that moment, it all got to be too much, and I set down my glass of water, got up from the booth, and rushed out of the bar, my eyes blurring with tears. Outside, the air was cool against my fevered cheeks, and I stumbled a few paces down the side street, stopping in front of a closed jewelry shop, where the glow from the little white lights in the display window provided some faint illumination.

Goddess, I can’t do this. I
can’t.

“Angela!”

Shit. I put up a hand to blot away my tears, noting that at least Sydney had come alone. Then again, what guy, even one as seemingly kind and enlightened as Anthony, would willingly barge in on a girl weeping alone? That was what girlfriends were for.

“I’m okay,” I said, not looking at her when she stopped a pace or two away from me.

“No, you’re not.” Setting her hands on her hips, she watched me closely.

At least we were alone; people did hang out on the sidewalks around the Spirit Room to have a smoke or chat where they wouldn’t disturb the band, but as the jewelry store and the gift shop next to it were both closed, no one had much of a reason to come this far down the dark little side street.

“Come on,” Sydney said, her tone even gentler this time. “This is more than being sad about Connor. I’ve been paying attention these past few weeks. It seemed like you were doing better. And now a meltdown?”

“It’s just — hearing that music,” I finished lamely.

Silence, her blue eyes sharp on my face. I knew some people thought Sydney was kind of an airhead, but she really wasn’t. She knew people.

More importantly, she knew me.

“You really expect me to believe that?” she asked, after a long pause.

No, I didn’t. And we’d been friends too long for me to believe that she was going to let this go. She’d prod and she’d pry — not in a mean way, but because she knew I’d clam up if she didn’t keep after me to tell her what was wrong.

And so, since I knew she’d find out eventually anyway, I blurted, “I’m pregnant.”

Dead silence. She just stood there, brain clearly on overdrive as she stared at me. Finally, “Oh, shit.
Shit
.” Obviously she’d recalled what I’d told her about the curse, and how this was a little more complicated than just an unplanned pregnancy.

“Shit, exactly.”

Another long pause. “What are you going to do?”

I slumped up against the brick of the building and watched my blurry shadow fall against the cracked pavement. “I don’t know. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“So you were…careful?”

Well, I
thought
I was.
I allowed myself a bitter chuckle, then said, “I was a good little witch and performed a charm to prevent pregnancy every time Connor and I had sex. I guess it didn’t work as well as I thought it would.”

She pursed her lips as she appeared to work that over in her mind. Maybe she was wondering whether to inquire why I hadn’t used a more conventional method of birth control. Luckily, she didn’t, instead saying, “Are you….” The question trailed off, as if she didn’t quite have the nerve to ask it.

That was all right. I knew exactly what she’d intended to ask. “Yes, I’m keeping it.”

“But — ”

“I know.”
Yes, I’m keeping it…even if that means I’m sealing my own death warrant.

Her eyes suddenly seemed too bright, even in the dim reflection from the little fairy lights in the shop window. She blinked, asking, “Okay. It’s just — okay. It’s your decision. You’re going to tell him, right?”

“Why should I?”

“Because — it’s his baby, too.”

“So? Obviously he doesn’t care enough to have even tried to contact me once during the past few months, so why should I bother?”

Rubbing the side of her head as if it suddenly pained her, she was quiet for a moment. Finally, she dropped her hand by her side and began, “Look, Ange, I watch a lot of reality shows — ”

“And that qualifies you to give me advice here?”

“Well, yeah, it kind of does.”

I crossed my arms and gave her a skeptical look.

Undeterred, she went on, “Anyway, what I was about to say was the only thing worse than telling a guy you’re pregnant is
not
telling him you’re pregnant. You can’t hide this from Connor, Angela. You just can’t. Sooner or later he’d find out, and he’d never forgive you. Or at least, he’d find it a lot harder to forgive you.”

Oh, deep down I knew she was right. I just couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again…or worse, asking to see him and having him refuse to do so. What then? Would I still have the responsibility of telling him about the baby if he wouldn’t even meet with me?

But that, as my aunt liked to say, was just borrowing trouble. I hadn’t reached out to him, so I had no idea whether I’d get shot down unmercifully or not. I looked away from Sydney, stared up at the deep black sky, watched the stars twinkling there. I could see the Big Dipper just above the heavy shoulders of Mingus Mountain, which was a deeper black against the velvet sky.

“I know,” I said at last, my voice sounding defeated even to myself. “I guess I just wanted to…I don’t know…have it confirmed independently before I tried to contact him. I mean, those tests aren’t foolproof.”

For a few seconds she didn’t say anything. Maybe she was thinking the same thing I was. True, those tests weren’t completely accurate, but a ninety-eight-percent chance was still pretty good odds.

“Do you want me to go with you?” she asked then. “I mean, to your doctor or Planned Parenthood or whatever?”

“Would you?” It wasn’t until she offered that I realized how much I’d been dreading going alone. With Sydney at my side, maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bad.

“Absolutely,” she responded immediately. “Like you even have to ask.”

“Thank you,” I told her. Simple words, but I could only hope she’d hear the sincerity in them, know how much this meant to me. “I’ll call PP tomorrow and see when they can fit me in. I feel…weird…about going to my own doctor.”

“I totally get it.” She hesitated, then looked over her shoulder and up the steep street to the corner where the Spirit Room stood. “You going to come back inside?”

I shook my head. “I don’t — I can’t do that right now. Tell Anthony I’m sorry, okay?”

“No worries. He knows you’ve been through a lot. And I won’t say anything else. I mean, no one will know until you’re ready to let them know.”

Thanking her again seemed redundant, so I gave her a quick hug before I made my way back up to Main Street, passing the open door of the bar and hearing the music drift out from within, then heading on up the hill to my house. Sydney’s offer had both touched me and reminded me of something very important.

I might think I was alone in this, but I really wasn’t.

T
wo days
later we drove to Prescott to the Planned Parenthood office there. Everything was very new, clean, and modern; it seemed clear to me that the facility hadn’t been open for very long. I peed in a cup and had them check my blood and all my other vitals.

“You’re definitely pregnant,” the doctor told me. “Looks like around nine weeks. I’d like to schedule an ultrasound in the next week or so, just to fine-tune things. Do you have a doctor closer to home you’d like to see, or do you want to come back here?”

“I — I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Can I call back in a few days to set that up?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Everything is looking fine, and you’re in perfect health otherwise, so an extra day or two isn’t going to make much of a difference.”

I thanked her, and then she left me to get dressed and go back out to meet Sydney. After giving her a little nod, I went to the medical assistant at the front desk and told her I’d probably be scheduling an ultrasound, but I wasn’t sure when. It seemed she was used to that sort of delay, because she just smiled and handed me a business card, and told me to contact them when I was ready.

“Are you going to call Connor now?” Sydney asked after we left the building and were headed back to Jerome.

For a minute I only watched the road passing by, the pale golden grasses blowing in the brisk breeze. “I will. But there’s something else I have to do first.”

She raised an eyebrow, but when she saw I wasn’t going to volunteer any more information, she just shook her head and leaned forward to turn up the music. I guessed she could tell I wasn’t much in the mood to talk.

Unfortunately, I knew I had a lot of talking ahead of me. It just wouldn’t be with her.

E
xpressions quizzical
, the three clan elders — Margot Emory, Bryce McAllister, and Allegra Moss — sat at my dining room table, waiting for me to explain why I’d summoned them to the house. Of course, as
prima
, I had the prerogative to do so…I just hadn’t exercised it before now.

I’d realized as I left the Planned Parenthood facility that it was my responsibility to tell the elders what was going on. Anything that affected me affected the clan as well, and hiding my condition from them wouldn’t do anyone any good, even if making such a confession to that trio was high on my list of extremely embarrassing situations I would rather have avoided.

“I’ve just…discovered something,” I began, wishing I didn’t sound quite so shaky and nervous. Then again, I probably had every right to be. Wishy-washy word choice, too, although I wasn’t sure what the best way to approach this might be. Blurting out “I’m pregnant” didn’t seem all that appealing, either. They were all adults, most of them with at least twenty years on me, although with Margot that number was probably closer to fifteen. I doubted they thought Connor and I had been spending our nights together in Flagstaff telling ghost stories and braiding each other’s hair.

“What is it?” Bryce asked. There was a note of worry in his voice already, and I thought that didn’t seem to be a very good sign. He was a strong warlock, gifted in magical defense, but he also had a quick temper. His reaction was the one I feared the most.

Margot and Allegra remained silent, watching me. Margot’s expression was opaque, face bland and perfect as that of a mannequin, while Allegra’s features seemed to show a somewhat lively curiosity. That didn’t surprise me too much, as Allegra tended to be one of those people who was inquisitive about
everything
. Goddess knows her own children had never been able to get away with anything without her ferreting out the facts eventually.

I pulled in a breath, let it out, and said, “I’ve just found out that I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Deep, hideous silence. Margot’s face went even more still, if that were possible, and Bryce settled heavily against the back of his chair, as if someone had just struck him. Allegra tilted her head to one side and watched me, her mouth pursing slightly.

She was the one to break the silence. “And you need help getting rid of it?”

In a horrible way, it made sense that she’d been the one to ask the question. Her skill was with herbs and potions, and I’d heard rumors that she’d helped out a McAllister girl or two who’d found herself in my situation. Safer and quicker than the civilian equivalent of the procedure, but of course that wasn’t why I’d asked to speak with the three of them. If I had made such a decision, I would have approached her quietly, and alone.

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. I’m going to keep it.”

Bryce set his hands flat on the tabletop. They were strong and weathered, tanned by the harsh Arizona sun. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” I sounded calm and in control, the antithesis of how I felt inside. Oh, well, in this case, I figured presentation was everything.

Allegra blinked. “But — ”

“But bearing a child to the Wilcox
primus
will kill me. I know.” The words came out flat, without inflection, just as I’d meant them to. I couldn’t let them hear the fear growing within me, growing just as surely as the baby inside my body.

“You can’t really be that selfish,” Margot said, tone harsh.

I glanced at her and raised my eyebrows. “‘Selfish’?” I repeated. “How is that selfish?”

“Your responsibility is to your clan, not to Connor Wilcox.” Her dark eyes seemed to bore into mine, and I had to force myself not to flinch under her stare. “It seems he’s made it abundantly clear that he wants nothing to do with you. So why deprive the McAllisters of their
prima
just to bear a child that will bring nothing but death?”

“It’s an innocent baby,” I protested. “It’s not as if it’s going to come out twirling a mustache and plotting to take over the world. It’s the curse that’s the problem, not the baby.”

“The child and the curse are linked,” Bryce said. “You can’t have one and not the other — not with the offspring of a Wilcox
primus
.”

That was no more than simple fact, I supposed, and in that moment I truly understood for the first time why Damon Wilcox had fought so hard against the dark destiny to which he’d been born, through no fault of his own. “Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to break the curse.”

Margot let out a cold little laugh. “And that’s worked out so well so far, hasn’t it?”

“Not for the Wilcoxes, no,” I admitted. Then my brain started to churn away as it pondered those words. True, no Wilcox had ever succeeded in undoing the curse cast so many years earlier, but technically, I wasn’t a Wilcox. And, as Connor’s cousin Marie had once pointed out, I wasn’t just any witch. I was
prima
of the McAllisters. “So maybe it’s time to apply a little McAllister ingenuity to the problem.”

Bryce said, not blinking, “That’s a shot in a million. You should really have Allegra help you.”

Help you.
There was a nice euphemism for an abortion. Not that they were probably thinking of it in those terms. All they could see was their
prima
in jeopardy, with no clear successor in sight. True, in my clan the power wasn’t passed from mother to daughter, but its vessel still appeared only once in a generation, and any girl who might be the next inheritor was barely toddling at this point, far too young for her abilities to have begun to manifest themselves.

I hesitated, trying to find words to shoot him down that didn’t include “fuck you, Bryce.” At the same time, Allegra twisted nervous fingers around one another and said plaintively, “How did this even happen?”