The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2) (21 page)

She smiled as she placed the tray on the desk.
 

"It’s my belief that they’ve been with us since the very beginning. There was Cro-Magnon man and Neanderthal man and a creature who survived despite all the odds."

"Vampire Man?" I asked.

Perhaps, when we crawled out of the primordial ooze, one lizard became human and the other developed fangs. Perhaps a third grew hairy around the full moon.

She tilted her head. "If you wish. They have just been more successful than a great many extinct creatures in hiding themselves. However, it was just a matter of time until mankind realized they were among us."

“How many are there?"

She shrugged, a delicate lifting of both shoulders.
 

I took the cup from her, took a sip and nearly moaned. I love good coffee. I was in the presence of great coffee.
 

"My supposition only,” she said, “and not backed by any research or documentation, is that there are a great many more than we think there are. They have a tendency to blend among humans. Not that many of them declare themselves. Until recently, it has not been safe to do so. But society is more accepting today than it has been in the past.”
 

She moved the heating pad aside and sat.
 

"In the beginning of recorded time, in Mesopotamia, there was a book called the Angelus Chronicles. The book was held as sacred and revered among all the texts and scrolls by scholars and learned men. It was carried with great reverence to Alexandria, there to reside in Egypt's great library."

"Is that the one that burned to the ground?"

"Yes."

“The Angel Chronicles? Are you saying that vampires are angels?”
 

“No. They are part of the triad, soon to come together as one.”
 

"What do you mean, triad?" I asked.

"Man as human. Man as beast. Man as spirit."

“Aren’t we getting a little metaphysical?"

She shook her head gently, causing her curls to bounce.
 

"Humans, beasts, spirits. They all exist in the world. Human beings, the Brethren, witches.”
 

“You’re saying witches represent the spirit? And vampires are part of the Brethren?”
 

Brethren was a word to encompass all sorts of paranormal creatures, anything other than witches. Maddock, especially, would be annoyed. Kindred was the word Maddock had used to signify the vampire population. Or the
Frater Cruentus
, which was just too precious a term to use.
 

Seriously, people needed to limit their labels. I could barely keep up with the ones I knew.
 

“Soon to come together as one,” I continued. “What does that mean?”
 

I didn't like the feeling I was getting. My grandmother was a witch. My father was a vampire. My mother, human. I couldn't be the only person, creature, entity to have that bloodline.

When I said as much to Mary/Madame X, she only smiled.

"Therein lies the prophecy."

“I don’t understand.” That was an understatement if there ever was one.
 

She turned her head, sunlight dancing on her red hair and bringing out the gold. Her skin was perfect, almost porcelain in the bright light.
 

“Is that what a Dirugu is?”
 

She smiled enigmatically. Really, I didn’t need the Mona Lisa moment. I needed information.
 

“You wouldn't have told me about the Angelus Chronicles unless something had survived," I said.

Her smile turned bright, almost mischievous.

"Yes, some information did survive. Oral history, if you will, subject to interpretation and to, if you'll pardon the word, bastardization. The tale is only as good as its teller.”
 

“And you’re the teller?”
 

She inclined her head again. “When necessary. I find the written word so much more dependable, however.” She glanced down at the envelope on the chair. “Read that first. Then, I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Like what I was?
 

I stood, thanked her for the information and the coffee, said goodbye and left.
 

Therein lies the prophecy.

What the hell did that mean?

“How did things go?” Dan asked when I got back into the car.
 

“Peachy, just peachy.” I held the envelope close to my chest. I needed to open it and read what was inside. Just as soon as I was alone.
 

I thought about the other two tasks I needed to do. I wasn’t all that keen about going to the doctor with Dan and Mike in tow, but what choice did I have?

I made the phone call and I have to confess, I wasn’t honest. I didn’t lie to the nurse, but I did compel her. After all, it isn’t easy to get a same-day appointment with an Ob/Gyn. Maybe my doctor would’ve seen me anyway, knowing my history, but I doubted it. I wasn’t pregnant and I wasn’t in danger of miscarrying again.

So, with a little bit of vampire wizardry, I had an appointment for thirty minutes from now.
 

This compelling stuff could come in handy.
 

I knew what I needed to do, the only permanent solution to my dilemma. Any reluctance I felt about it was natural and to be expected. I was only in my early thirties. Certain parts of me, either mind or heart or soul had not completely accepted becoming a vampire. Perhaps I thought there would be a way that I could return to normalcy one day. That walking in the sun, taking breaths, having a child might mean that I could be completely human again.

That thought was lunacy. Even worse, it was dangerous.

As we drove, my thoughts were on the decision I’d made and how best to communicate it to my doctor. She wasn’t going to be happy, but then Dr. Stallings always thought positively. Even in my darkest hour, she had something good to say about the situation.
 

To the best of my ability to discern anything of the sort, she didn’t have a drop of paranormal blood in her. Of course, I’d thought the same thing about myself only to discover I was nearly radioactive.

I wasn’t going to use my insurance. I would pay for this visit and the operation in cash. When you became a vampire, you became a Council member and were given Council Health Insurance. The policy was great, paying everything. There wasn’t even a copayment. Plus, you never saw a bill since it went straight to the Council.
 

I think they received some sort of government subsidy per vampire. We weren’t eligible for food stamps or any kind of assistance. If we were in trouble we had to go to the Council which acted, in effect, like Washington for us. I couldn’t help but wonder if there were lobbyists who made a point of entertaining Council members, offering them human snacks and whatever else old vampires deemed a treat.

 
We pulled up to the one-story sandstone building. You could probably buy all of the cars in the parking lot for what the Rolls cost. I hadn’t thought of Dan as the ostentatious type, so maybe he inherited the car along with the castle.

He got out and opened the door for me.
 

“You’re not coming with me,” I said.
 

“I am,” he replied pleasantly, a hint of a smile on his face.
 

“It’s my gynecologist’s office.”
 

He didn’t respond to that.
 

“There’s nothing but pregnant women in the waiting room.”
 

“Pregnant women don’t scare me.”
 

“You’ll be bored.”
 

“I’m guarding you, Marcie.”
 

I shook my head, shut up, and tried to ignore him as I walked into the reception area.

Dorothy was the receptionist and I’d known her for six years. She smiled at me in greeting and glanced behind me, her smile growing in wattage.
 

Dan had that effect on women.

I almost rolled my eyes but stopped myself at the last moment. Still, I wanted to explain that he was a friend, that I wasn’t here because of him.
 

I didn’t.
 

“I’m here for my appointment.”

“You’re so lucky,” Dorothy said. “Normally appointments don’t come open like that.”

I pushed back the spurt of guilt I felt for my vampire compulsion and smiled, one of those goofy expressions that takes the place of words.
 

I couldn’t compel my grandmother, but I could summon Maddock. I couldn’t compel Dan or Mike, but I could ease a taxi driver’s fears and make a retail clerk feel better about her day. I could also get an appointment when no appointments were to be had. All in all, this compelling business was about thirty percent effective. Maybe I just needed to do it better.

One of these days, I’d have to practice, maybe transmitting a message to Dan’s kitchen to send up cheesecake or something. Right now, however, I was just concentrating on making it through this appointment without crying.
 

Big bad vampire, that’s me.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-O
NE

Come hell or high fang

Dan and I sat in a sea of pregnant women. Pregnancy had made my libido sit up and wag its tail, if you get my drift. I wanted to pounce on Bill every hour of the day. The only problem was that my being pregnant had done something to Bill’s libido, too, and it wasn’t pretty. The idea of having sex with me grossed him out.
 

I bit back my smile and didn’t say a word as female eyes scanned Dan. He was probably being mentally undressed and was featured as a leading man in more than a few fantasies.
 

When my name was called, I left him where he was, grabbed my envelope and purse and walked into the examination room.

The nurse, a woman I’d never met, gave me information about where to undress and what to leave on. I nodded, more than familiar with the drill. After the first visit to the Ob/Gyn does any woman forget?
 

Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t remember. You want me to put my feet where? And slide down to where? And relax? Lord love a duck, did you put that thing in the freezer?
 

You’ve never been truly naked until you’ve been attired in a paper napkin, giving your medical history to a stranger. Dr. Stallings incurred my forever love by using fabric gowns instead of those paper ones. And her examination table was just a normal table with stirrups on the end.
 

I’d gone to another doctor when Dr. Stallings was on maternity leave. He’d had a large sign on the reception window that stated:
 

I do not carry malpractice insurance. If you feel uncomfortable about going to a doctor who doesn’t carry malpractice insurance, I urge you to seek out one who does. Be prepared to pay more for your appointments, however.
 

I couldn't help but wonder, being in the insurance business, why he had stopped paying for malpractice insurance. Granted, it was ruinously expensive, but had he been involved in a lawsuit and lost? If he had, what was the lawsuit about?

My job had taught me to listen to my little voice. If something struck me as wrong, it probably was, but I pushed back my misgivings and went into his exam room.
 

I changed into the paper gown and sat on the end of a very odd looking chair. It was black vinyl and wide, with weird arms. When the doctor entered the room, he smiled gleefully at me and pressed a button on a remote control.

Up until this time, he and I had not exchanged one word. I was sitting there stark naked with only a thin covering of tissue when the chair started rumbling. All of a sudden, I was tilted to my back, as a ledge came out from beneath my hips all the way down to my feet and then slowly divided so my legs spread apart like a sacrificial maiden.
 

Only then did the idiot doctor say something to me. "I see you're one of Dr. Stalling's patients,” he said, addressing my vagina.

Needless to say, I didn’t return.

Now I changed into the gown in record time. I had practice at this. When the door opened, I smiled at the nurse who walked in.
 

Dr. Stalling’s staff resembled most of the people in the United States today: they had real figures. Carol was plump and rounded and had fought a weight problem ever since Madison High School, where she’d been in two of my classes. I always thought of her as a popular girl with beautiful blond hair and a smile that never stopped.

“You haven’t been here for a while,” she said, closing the door behind her.
 

“No need.”

She tucked my file under her arm.
 

“Let’s take your vitals,” she said, rolling the blood pressure machine up to me.
 

“Let’s not.” I held up my hand, palm toward her.
 

“Why not?”