To The Fairest Page 11

  The car came to life and I was thrown back in my seat as Chris took off, swerving across one yard after another rather than be trapped in the midst of all the cars now filling the road. The car bounced over ruts and hills and Maleficent cried out in agony as we flew over a ditch, landing hard enough on the blacktop to make me grunt with the impact. The closer the giant got to our location, the higher the car bounced on the road until at one point we were actually airborne for a three precious seconds.

  At this rate, if Chris took a turn to quickly at the same time the giant’s foot hit the ground, the car would end up on its side. We needed to do something before that happened. We were barely staying ahead of the giant even with Chris driving at full speed. If something happened to the car there was no way we’d be able to outrun him. Not with Maleficent, and yes LaRue, in tow. I doubted Rachel would leave the goose to die so that she could run faster. My mind raced and the heat from my womb grew brighter and brighter still, an inferno in my middle that left me shaking and sick.

  “Um, Alex?”

  “What?” The heat was beginning to get to me. It felt as if my organs were frying, my vision swam and sweat soaked my skin and left strands of my hair sticking to my cheeks and neck.

  “Why are you smoking?”

  “Huh?” Was my brilliant reply. I glanced down to see what she was talking about and sure enough, steam was rising off of my skin, which was bright red from the fire sprouting to life within my belly. “Oh…Uh. It’s a long story.”

  Chris gritted his teeth as and swerved around two wrecked cars.

  “Give us the condensed version.” He snapped, giving me a look from the corner of his eye. Condensed version. I could do that.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh my God.” Rachel exclaimed, her voice high pitched with glee.

  “Turns out my little placenta monster,” Chris winced and mentally I chuckled, “needs to give in to her inner dragon or else mommy’s going to end up doing her best Firestarter impersonation.”

  “Oh. My God.” It was weird how much emotion you could convey jut by rearranging your punctuation. For instance, Rachel’s tone told me that she was both horrified and fascinated by my predicament. Chris slammed on the brakes and Rachel and I screamed when a twisted hunk of metal fell from nowhere to slam into the ground. It hit with such force that the pavement cracked like ice. Another twisted hunk came after the first and an SUV that had swerved around us hit it head on.

  Chris’s hands tightened on the wheel and he blew out a slow breath.

  “You have dragon fire.” He said into the quietness of the car as cars zoomed around us in their haste to escape the raging titan now less than a mile away. I looked at Chris, studied his profile, and my lips tightened as I reached the same conclusion he had.

  “And a baby.” I reminded him. A reminder that I had the safety of someone other than myself to consider

  “I’ll get you out if it doesn’t work.” He told me without hesitation or even doubt in his ability to do so.

  “What the hell are you two talking about?” Rachel demanded, but Chris and I were too busy throwing open our doors and climbing out of the car to answer. Cars parted around us, people screaming at us to get out of the way. I felt Rachel join us, and together we stared up at the creature as he grew closer and closer still. He was like a mountain, a skyscraper, an imposing mass of flesh that literally touched the sky. I imagined myself as tiny little buoy in the middle of a storm tossed sea. The giant was a cruise liner, a navy vessel, bearing down on me. He was so massive that it was like he was walking in slow motion even though he was able to cover blocks at a time with every measured step he took. As the distance between us grew smaller, the fire in me grew wild. I could smell cooking meat and I knew that it was me.

  “Wait for it.” Chris whispered.

  I held the dragon fire down. Imagined placing my foot on the neck of a starving lion. Those flames reacted much the same way the carnivore in my imagination did. Roaring and swiping at me in its fierce need to get free. The Giant was less than a football field’s length away, and he made that grumbling sound again that signified speech. This time I was able to make out the rhythm of his words, and memory of the old story filled my head and finally gave meaning to the unfamiliar language.

  Fee-fi-fo-fum!

  I smell the blood of an Englishman,

  Be he alive, or be he dead,

  I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.

  “Motherfucker, I’m Irish.” I snapped, and then the giant was there, reaching for us, the simple motion sounded like a bomb falling from the sky as his grasping fingers split through the air. Rachel tensed and Chris grabbed my arm.

  “Wait for it.”

  He hissed, and the flames filled my throat and began melting my teeth. The giant’s stench surrounded us, and when his fingertips, the size of barns, were less than an inch away, Chris roared in my ear.

  “Now!”

  My lips parted, and I released the dragon fire on a sobbing breath. The giant was so close, there was no room error and as soon as the fire touched the palm of his hand, he flinched back. At first the flame was a small one, almost insignificant. I slumped, spent now that I’d released it and Chris and Rachel caught me and lowered me to the ground. The giant shook his hand and for a moment I was afraid that he’d be able to extinguish the spark, but I’d underestimated the magical flames. Once they tasted meat they began to feed, growing from a spark to a bonfire in seconds. The fire coated the giant’s palm and rampaged down the length of his arm. Swallowing him in pieces so that a minor annoyance became agonizing terror in the blink of an eye.

  I huddled in on myself and Rachel and Chris followed suit as the giant screamed and screamed, desperate to douse the flames even as they engulfed his entire frame from head to toe. The ground bucked as if in pain and I screamed and covered my ears as he stumbled and fell to the ground. Hitting the earth with enough force to bring everything within miles of him a few feet off the ground. I was getting real fucking tired of feeling as if I were trapped on a trampoline and I hit the pavement again hard enough to break something in my arm.

  I cried out, sucking in a sharp breath, only to gag as the smell of burning meat and hair was pulled deep into my lungs. Turning over onto my side I threw up the contents of my stomach. I heard gagging from all around me as people who had been driving or running in the opposite direction followed suit.

  The wind picked up and past the roaring in my ears I realized that the giant’s screaming had finally stopped. My ears ached with the memory of it and I looked back over my shoulder to see a pile of ashes and bone where the giant had once stood. His skull was massive, and already people were stepping close, running their hands on bones cleaned by dragon fire. The empty sockets of the giant’s skull seemed to stare at me and his mouth was still open, silent testament that he’d died in agony.

  My gut cramped and I gasped, swaying. My temperature had dropped back to normal, but the sudden change left me feeling clammy and unhinged. My tongue ran over my teeth and I was relieved that the fire hadn’t damaged them too badly. One of my canines was crooked, and I was pretty sure I’d lost my molars and one of my wisdom teeth, but I’d worry about all of that just as soon as I was done passing out.

  Accordingly, I let the darkness creep in and wrap me up. It was a relief to let the world fade away so that for a sweet moment, I knew no more.

  * * * *

  I was enjoying the dream I was having too much to wake up. Sam was there, which was the main reason behind my enjoyment. We weren’t really doing anything. It was early morning and the world was gray and cold to the touch. It wasn’t a sad, depressing gray. It was more as if the sky had been left black and filthy for so long that no one noticed it any longer. Until one day a giant hand began to scrub it clean, allowing us to see the light again. The gray felt clean, almost hopeful, and I wrapping my arms around Sam’s middle and buried my face against the bare skin of his abdomen. He was curled over me, hands s
ifting through the strands of my hair so that I was practically purring in contentment.

  We didn’t speak, but there was a sense of understanding between us that made words obsolete. I heard feet slap against the floor and our bedroom door burst open.

  “Momma!” The high pitched voice was filled with excitement rather than urgency. Even so I jerked upright. Turning to face the doorway I saw a child…

  The dream ended, abruptly before I could make out the little girls features. Instead I found myself staring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar room. My sigh was shaky and I pressed my hands against my stomach as if I could feel her there. For the first time I realized that my belly wasn’t entirely the fault of Twinkies and peanut butter cup ice cream. There was a firmness there that wasn’t soft enough to be my emergency winter fat. There it was, my first bit of tangible proof that I was actually pregnant. It was one thing to have a doctor, or even Sam, tell me. It was another to start feeling it, to start believing it on an ‘oh shit this is really happening’ level.

  Someone tsked and I sat up to look at Flo as she puttered around the room, setting out clean clothes and a tray of food for me. If Flo was around then that meant that I must be at Madam Clara’s. Again. Not that I was ungrateful. If nothing else we’d be safe here. Speaking of we…

  “Hey Flo?” I asked softly, she didn’t react to the sound of my voice which meant that she must have known that I was awake. “Where’s Rachel and Chris.”

  “They are with the Madame looking over the witch.”

  Maleficent.

  I threw the blanket someone had placed over me to one side and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Before I could rise, Flo was there, pushing me back. Her lip was curled and her eyes blazed with angst.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She fussed, pulling the blanket back up and flicking me in the forehead when I tried to sit up from the pillows once more.

  “I want to check on Mal.”

  “Your Godmother is fine.” Flo told me. “Her sister will take good care of her. You should be more concerned with taking care of the babe in your belly.”

  Oh Christ. It was starting already. If I weren’t careful she’d start buying me mom jeans and explaining all the benefits of breastfeeding as opposed to formula. It wasn’t until Flo had tucked the blanket under the edge of the mattress, effectively trapping me in place that what she said finally clicked.

  “Hold up. Did you say ‘sister’?”

  Flo placed her fists on her hips and shook her head in disgust.

  “Yes. Her sister. Who did you think she was?”

  “Frenimies at best. I didn’t know they were related.”

  Flo tsked at me and the look she sent me made me feel instantly defensive.

  “Give me a break, Flo.” I said, feeling ill natured as I struggled to break free of the comforter cocoon. “It’s not like I can look at Madam Clara and think, ‘Wow, the family resemblance is strong in this one’.”

  Flo thought about that and sighed, conceding the point.

  “I suppose that’s true enough.”

  I twisted and bucked and the blanket finally loosened enough for me to slip loose. Flo came for me again, gnarled little hands rising and I held up the time out sign. She hesitated and I spoke in a rush.

  “I appreciate the concern Flo, but I feel fine. Honest.”

  “You need rest.”

  “And I’ll get it.” I assured her. “But I can’t do that until I know everyone’s all right. Until I’ve seen Mal.” I let my eyes go all big and puppy dog pitiful. “Please, Flo? I’ll let you touch my tummy?” I’d never understood it personally, but for some reason non-pregnant women really enjoyed touching the stomachs of expecting mothers. Maybe it was the way some people liked rubbing Buddha's stomach, despite the little fact that Gautama Buddha hadn’t been in the least bit obese. I was sure there was some sort of psychology behind the whole thing, and sure enough I saw Flo’s eyes brighten with interest before she turned away and feigned indifference.

  “Fine. Go. But you hurry right back. Clara wants me to do a full check.”

  I didn’t bother telling her that the human doctors had already looked me over. If my baby was magical then it only made sense for another magical creature to check us out to make sure that everything was progressing normally. I didn’t think the cryptic readings of a dragon healer really counted as checkup. Hell, I might even be able to use Flo as my midwife when the time came. I grinned at her.

  “Thanks Flo.”

  She muttered something that sounded like, “Don’t thank me just yet.” But I could have been wrong. I hope I was wrong. I wasn’t sure how much more strangeness I could deal with.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rachel and Chris weren’t hard to find. All I had to do was follow the sound of their voices. To me the house seemed empty, so Chris and Rachel were the only solid, real things around as far as I was concerned. With that in mind, it was a little strange to step into the room and see them talking to empty air.

  “Are you crazy?” Rachel exclaimed, and I stopped short to watch them. Her face was flushed red and she stood at the foot of Maleficent’s bed as if to block her from something. Or someone. Chris was sitting in a chair beside the head of the bed. He was looking down into Maleficent’s face intently and after a moment he nodded.

  “It makes sense.” He said softly and Rachel turned on him.

  “If you wanted her dead you should have just let that giant crush her.”

  “Think about it.” He told her, ignoring the barb. “It’s the safest place she could possibly be, because none of our enemies would think to look for her there. Plus, Danielle probably has all sorts of protections set up in that house. Enough to keep Mal safe until we can kill Rumplestiltskin.”

  “What’s going on?”

  The sound of my voice made Rachel jump and I watched her struggle with calm. She gave me a smile that made her look sick.

  “What are you doing up?” She asked. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  “You’re not trying to hide things from me again, are you Rachel?”

  I tried to keep my voice light, but she heard the warning in my tone. Her lips tightened and her eyes dropped from mine.

  “Clara wants to send Mal to Danielle.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, looking at the spot in the air that Rachel had been talking to when I’d first come into the room. “Are you crazy?” I demanded. Rachel’s sigh of relief was loud.

  “Thank you.” She said, obviously feeling vindicated.

  “Why would you do that?” I demanded. “She’s your sister. The safest place for her is here with you.”

  Silence reigned and I looked towards Rachel.

  “What did she say?” I asked, and Rachel listened to Clara for a moment more before answering with an apologetic shrug.

  “She says that the demons have already been here, searching for Mal. That this is the last place that we should leave her.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked. During my training with Danielle, I’d learned that demons couldn’t come to the human realm unless they’d been summoned. And even then there had to be a contract between the summoner and the demon to keep them from being sent back to their own world. Once the terms of the contract had been met, the demon was banished. Not just any demon could travel here either. It had to be a wish granter, or Djinn/genie. The ‘lamps’ that they lived in were actually bottled pieces of hell, which was how they were able to survive in our realm when contracts lasted for more than a couple of days. Rachel was listening to Clarabell’s explanation, and after a moment she nodded and relayed the message.

  “Rumple has been making contracts. He’s got dozens of genies out there now, combing the streets for any witches that managed to escape to this side of the veil.”

  “But isn’t it usually one contract per person? How can he have so many Djinn working for him at once?”

  More listening and nodding before Rachel spoke again.

 
“Everyone has one true name that embodies who and what they are. Like a cosmic fingerprint, it’s unique from person to person. That’s what makes an agreement between a Djinn and his or her summoner binding. It takes control of a person’s name and forcibly holds them to the terms of the contract. Rumplestiltskin doesn’t have that. He doesn’t have a true name. So he can make as many contracts he likes without once having to give anything in return.”

  I stared at Maleficent. She looked worse than before. Her breathing sounded shallow and forced and there was a spot on her cheek that looked as if it were being scrubbed away even as I watched. She was being pulled apart, eaten by this demon with no name even as we sat here arguing about what to do with her and how to keep her alive.

  My hands clenched into fists at my sides and my womb gave a warning throb, a hot flash that left me feeling as if I were going through an early onset of menopause.

  “Danielle will kill her.” I said aloud. “I’m assuming Clara has a plan to stop her, otherwise why bring it up at all.”

  Rachel blinked. In her outrage she hadn’t considered that and she looked expectantly towards the blank space in the air. While Rachel listened to whatever it was that Clarabell had planned, I studied my brother. He was strangely silent and there was a line of strain between his brows and a tightness to his shoulders that spoke of discontent. Worried, I took a step towards him just as Rachel sighed explosively and turned on me.

  “She’s as crazy as her sister.” She said. Grabbing my hand she began to drag me from the room. “Let’s go before she starts swinging on a pole and making it clap.”