Page 27 of Charisma
“Don’t worry, little ones. You are the product of a fiery witch and a mighty dragon. You will always be safe, loved, and cherished. Join us now. There’s nothing to fear,” I promised my younglings.
Individually, they courageously left their casing and sought out their mother and me.
I am now complete. Maizy mind linked to my dragon to which he linked back, I am too, my Maizy. You rescued me once. You’ve saved me from myself numerous times, and now, my life has meaning. I no longer exist. I live. You are my treasure, and these four are my gems. I love you, my fiery, temperamental witch.
“I love you more, Drakko,”
“We shall see.” I chuckled. “You just gifted me with four jewels, so today, you shall have your way.”
“Holy shit! You, you both played a pivotal role in your babies hatching,” I stammer in admiration.
“You are correct. That we did, my bear friend,” Drakko concurs.
CHARISMA
Out of my peripheral vision I see Mav and Pax rush away from Drakko and Baldwin. I have my suspicion of why they’d sprint away and change into their cat and dog, but I can’t leave the ladies to go and ask any questions. I’d never leave them exposed like that, even if they are pretty well sheltered since the demons are melting into a puddle of sludgy goo. The smell is horrific, a cross between sulfur, dirty socks, and a moldy dungeon.
It’s like the first time I watched theWizard of Ozand the phrase“she’s melting”was mentioned. I got and still get the creepy, crawly sensation from the use of the words. Seeing it live and in real life has me shuddering in revulsion. Combine that with the odor and I’m to the point I want to puke, which I’m sure would be frowned upon by the ladies. I bite back my snicker as I imagine the various looks I’d receive if I did so.
What feels like hours, which is most likely only mere minutes, the demons have been swept away as if they’d never been there in the first place. A glowing box appears out of the thin sky which has me taking a protective step toward the women. “Ladies? What the hell is that?”
“That, my dear,” the elder witch, Mara, speaks, “is the remnants of the demons.”
“That’s it? That’s all that’s left of the hundreds of demons you just vaporized?” I ask, intrigued because that’s pretty fucking nifty. “Can y’all give me a spell that’ll vacuum, dust, and sweep my house and have it all tuck itself away in a wooden crate?”
“Risma, I’ll get you hooked up,” Esme gaily replies. Her demeanor has shifted from one of concern and worry to almost childlike giddiness. “Ladies, it appears we’re needed to help Landry and Connelly now.”
Maizy claps her hands and cheerfully says, “Babies! I love babies!”
Barely lifting her finger, Esme whispers something underneath her breath and we’re whisked from the field into the cabin where absolute chaos is reigning.
Paxton is passed out on the floor and Maverick keeps bringing alcohol towelettes, a bowl of fruit—I guess he worries that Connelly will get hungry and… is that a baby wipe? As he growls at her, he tosses a beach towel, and throws a thermos of water toward Leigh while barking out, “Help them!” So far, I see the toaster, a remote control, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine already in a pile at Leigh’s feet.
“Looks like we arrived just in time,” Mari states, giggling with hilarity as she surveys the room.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask Leigh, pointing to Paxton.
“Yeah, it’s his own fault. He told Landry all she needed to do was breathe. She clocked him with the frying pan Maverick set down by her for some possessed reason. Knocked him on his ass. We dragged him away from us so I could move around. Glad you guys got here because Mav’s not much better. I’m about to hit him myself,” Leigh retorts as Connelly bites back a moan of pain.
“Let’s get a little more order in here,” Esme says, twirling her finger. Immediately, the mess that Maverick has created is gone, he’s been placed in a chair with restraints so he can’t move, just hold Connelly’s hand, and Paxton is now reclined on a couch. Bowls with water, towels, and a few other things I can’t define are next to each of the laboring women.
“We can’t give you epidurals, but we can put a spell on you so you won’t feel the pain,” Bell says.
“No drugs?” Landry pants out. “Ugh, this sucks balls.”
“Spell it is,” Esme decrees.
“Wait?” Pax stops Esmerelda as he rouses. “Your spell, it won’t hurt my son’s, ya know?”
“Ya know?” I ask, raising my eyebrows as I wait for him to fill in the blank.
“His, uh, his pecker,” Paxton abashedly inserts. “I don’t want his tally-wacker affected, okay?” At that, every witch bends over, gasping for breath as they wheeze their way to the floor. All high fiving each other along the way down as tears spill in rivulets down their pinkened cheeks. “I’m glad y’all find this quandary amusing.”
“What if it’s a girl?” Landry teases. She’s apparently between contractions because she’s not spewing death threats against her mate like she was when we arrived, even with him passed out cold on the floor unable to defend himself against her hisses, she reprimanded him like a pissed off woman amidst the birthing process. It’s a damn good thing she wasn’t in any shape to get her hands on him because she looked like she was ready to inflict some damage on her mate, which is a good thing because at the end of the day she’s actually rather fond of the furball.
“No, I had a talk with him and convinced him he was a boy,” Paxton retorts, proud of his enlightening conversation with his young.
“You know that’s not how that works, right?” I inquire, chortling. He honestly cannot expect that because he deems that something is so that it actually happens that way. Especially when it comes to a gender… that’s Mother Nature’s domain, no one has a hand in choosing that outside of her.