"I'm having our baby, macushla," Rose bit off. Then she arched her back and groaned, long and low; an almost-feral sound.
Jake, on his way across the room, froze. "Now?"
"Now, Cupcake," Donya said, her face lit up with glee. "This being human is a lot more exciting than I'd expected."
Six hours is a long time ...
"HOW COULD SHE CHANGE her mind and refuse to go to the hospital? What could possibly be taking so long?"
Donya watched Jake--with a shirt on now, sadly--pace across the deck of the cabin, and then she sighed.
"Why can't they just transport themselves here?"
"They're garden witches. Their only magic mode of transport is by minivan," he said, rolling his eyes.
"If I could carry them here, I would, Jake, but my powers don't extend that far. Still, your family is on the way, and it has only been a few hours--"
"Six," he flung at her, eyes wild and hair standing up in every direction from all the times he'd shoved his hands through it. "Six hours. How can it take six hours to get one tiny baby out?"
"Well, it's coming out of an opening the size of a--"
"Gak! No! Don't talk to me about openings, or dilation or--" Here, he looked around furtively and then lowered his voice. "Or cervixes."
She laughed. "I think it might be cervices."
"Who cares? I don't want to hear about either of them!" He flung himself in the deck chair, and then jumped up. "They're in my bedroom, and I feel helpless out here. I should be boiling water."
"Why?"
"I don't know. That's what they do in movies!"
"Okay ..." Donya didn't even know she was going to do it until she did: she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and hugged him. "You really love her, don't you?"
He stood perfectly still, as if he'd surprised a wild creature coming up to him. If she thought about it, she had to admit that he sort of had. She'd been wild and untamed for so long, nothing to anyone but a conduit to their greedy desires and often dark and depraved wishes. But this man--this foolish
man who'd freed her without a thought for himself, who was terrified for the family he loved--this man made her feel safe.
And that scared the hell out of her.
She let him go and stepped away. "I'm going to make some more food."
"I think we're good," Jake said dryly, glancing in at the table, heaped with all the food she'd conjured up an hour ago. "You're a great cook, by the way."
She laughed. "I tried cooking, once. I don't see the point of it. Why go to all the trouble when magic is so much easier? I don't wash dishes, either."
Rose suddenly cried out, loudly enough that they both stiffened.
"Is she in trouble? Do I need to get help?" Jake smashed his fist against the railing. "I feel so damned helpless."
"She knows I can get her to the hospital in the space of a thought," Donya said soothingly. "She wants to do this naturally. She's a garden witch, Jake. You know that. She would hate to be stuck in an antiseptic hospital."
He took a deep breath. "I know. I know. Talk to me. Distract me."
Donya closed her eyes and wished herself into a sweater and a pair of jeans. The late afternoon lake air was getting chilly. "Shall I tell you about the wishes?"
A flicker of interest crossed his face and, for the first time in hours, he quit pacing. "Yes. Tell me about how and why I got a second chance, when that's against the rules."
She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees, thinking of the best way to tell it. A story shaped over millennia wasn't easy to share.