Chapter 1

   I dreamt of angels. Glorious winged figures, they flew in intricate patterns across the heavens, reveling in their own majesty. They came and went through a rent in the heavens, planting seeds upon the Earth. From behind me, a voice boomed. “In the beginning, we were all and we created all.” Larger than life, the angels cast enormous shadows down upon the Earth. From within those shadows crept creatures of darkness; demons. The voice continued. “If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out.” The angelic beings seemed to take offense at the very existence of the demons. As they moved to attack, I turned away. “I don’t want to see this.” “She’s not ready!” A new voice spoke. It seemed familiar. “Then make her ready,” spoke another voice, a woman’s. “Give me more time…” As the voices and images faded, I tried to follow but got caught in a hazy white shroud.  

  Nothing in my life had prepared me for the feeling of waking up in Jack’s arms. I luxuriated in the warmth and comfort of his well-muscled arm around my waist, cinching me up against his torso. His broad chest pressed against my back and our legs were entwined. His breath rumbled softly in my ear. “Good morning, beautiful.” I snuggled even closer and sighed happily. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He nodded against the back of my head. “Like a rock. Did you know you talk in your sleep?” “Hm-mmm. What did I say?” “You kinda moaned, ‘Stop, I don’t want to see’. And later, you said ‘hello’ like a question, and then ‘Samson.’” I smiled. “That’s funny. I don’t remember dreaming about Samson. I don’t remember dreaming at all, really.” “Hmm.” He put his lips against my ear.“I dreamed about you.” His hot breath tickled and sent a chill through me. I shivered. “Oh yeah?” I asked breathily, “What was I doing?” I reached back to stroke his hip. “You were screaming my name,” he said roughly. My body went limp against his and I moaned. Jack groaned and pressed his erection against my backside. I pushed back and he grabbed my hip, wrapping his fingers around the edge of my pelvic bone. He licked my ear, drawing another shiver from me. “May I continue where we left off last night?” “Yes, please,” I purred.

Jack began exploring my body with his free hand while his mouth skimmed my neck. He nibbled along my earlobe, making me shudder and giggle, but then his hand found my breasts and I gasped. As his fingers pinched, rolled, and plucked my nipples, he sucked and bit the curve of my neck, sinking his teeth in just to the point of pain, making me cry out, then kissing and licking the tenderness away. He ran his hand down my body, stroking and accentuating my curves. Down my side to the dip of my waist and up the swell of my hip. Sweeping across the mounds of my butt, then down the line of my thigh. Trailing his fingertips lightly back up the length of me, he returned to my breasts, where he cupped each one in turn, giving a little bounce, a little squeeze, a gentle tug and a pinch to each nipple. I moaned and arched my back, pressing my rump against his hard cock and pushing my breasts into his hand. He bit down on the curve of my shoulder. "Mrrrmm," he growled. "You turn me on so much…" Lifting my head with his free hand, he pulled his other arm out from under my neck before rolling me onto my back. 

Eye-to-eye, all my insecurities came rushing in and I looked away. He caught my chin and gently turned me back to face him. "Hey. What's up?"

"Don't know. Just got shy. Morning breath?" I joked.

He leaned in and sniffed. "Smells great. How's mine?" He exhaled exaggeratedly. 

Laughing, I sniffed carefully. "Like a fresh morning breeze," I declared. It actually wasn't too bad.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked seriously. "We can just snuggle."

I took a second and thought about it. "Um. I need to use the bathroom."

He laughed and rolled onto his back. "Shit, of course. Me too, now that you mention it."
In the bathroom, I realized I was bleeding. Aha. That explained some of my insecurity; I was always more self-critical near my period. I inserted my cup, thankful not to have to worry about running out of menstruation supplies. Mom had told me horror stories of being caught without a tampon. Modern life has its advantages, I thought. My clothes from the night before were still lying on the floor and I pulled them on. Dressed, I felt less vulnerable. Knowing what I was in for, I took an extra pain pill before stepping out to tell Jack the bad news. Taking a moment to appreciate the enticing image of his long, lean body in my bed, bare shoulders and well-muscled arms exposed, I shook my head in sadness. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, my period started.”

He frowned and patted the bed. “No need to apologize for biology, baby.” 

I chuckled and sat next to him, leaning down to accept his offered kiss. “I know. I’m apologizing because it means I’m going to cancel our plans and ask you to leave.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Shrugging, I lay down and cuddled into his armpit, breathing in his scent. Looking up at him through my lashes, I explained as he stroked my hair. “I get horrific cramps and back pain, along with a migraine and nausea. I’m absolutely no fun to be around on the first day. I usually just stay in bed and try to sleep through it.” I’d been lucky: nearly everyone -- my parents, teachers, and even Emma, my boss at My Word -- had all been incredibly tolerant of my need to hide away. Thankfully, only Day One was really bad. The rest of my cycle was generally mild -- at least so far, I cautioned myself. 

Jack kissed the top of my head. “That sucks. Much as I admire women, I have to admit, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all that. Can I do anything for you before I go?”

Shaking my head, I gazed up at him fondly. “No, I have everything I need -- chocolate, tea, a heating pad. I’ll be fine. But thank you for offering. Can I take a raincheck on the sexy stuff for next weekend?”

“You bet.” He rolled over to face me and we kissed sweetly, luxuriously, with soft lips and slow movements, until a sharp cramp hit my low belly and I cried out into his mouth. He pulled back and grimaced. “You poor girl. I wish I could make it better.”

“Ha,” I half-laughed, half-gasped. “Me too.” 

What I really wished was that I could be honest with him and share the secrets I’d been keeping. That magic was real; that my cat could talk, my landlord was a witch, and I could see fae. That I’d fought a bogey to save a pixie (piskie) and brought an entire species back from the brink of extinction by making out with an octopus man. I didn’t like hiding things from him, but how would I even start that conversation? As he rolled out of bed, I curled up in the fetal position, already too crampy to enjoy the muscular curves of his magnificently sculpted bare ass -- much, anyway. Sighing, I rolled over and closed my eyes, exhaustion washing over me. My low back ached and I could feel the migraine approaching. A sharp stabbing between my eyes made me wince. Oh fun, a new pain. 

Minutes went by. Heavy male feet moved around my tiny studio. Water ran in the kitchen; cupboards opened and closed. I wanted to offer assistance -- or at least ask if he needed help finding something -- but the headache was upon me and I couldn’t move for fear of exacerbating the agony. The bathroom door opened and closed; the toilet flushed, water ran. A kind of fugue fell over me and I lost track of Jack’s movements, my head pounding in time with the heartbeat thundering in my ears. Curling up tighter, little involuntary pain sounds coming from my throat, I pulled a pillow over my head to block the light. 

The smell of fresh coffee alerted me to a nearby presence. 

“I found your heating pad,” Jack whispered. A comforting warmth settled over my lower back where the cramping was the worst. “There’s coffee on the nightstand. Check in when you’re feeling better, okay?”

“Thank you,” I croaked out gratefully, not sure if he could hear me. As his footsteps trod the stairs and vanished through the door, I let the pain take me under.

I dreamed. I stood once again in the sea cave which Ondine had taken me to, staring at the petroglyphs etched into the sandstone wall. Glorious winged giants hovered in the air above the Earth. As I watched, the figures came alive, the angelic beings sprinkling seeds from the sky, from which sprouted life -- plants, animals, insects, and all the rest. As the majestic flying creatures rested from their labors, dark, vaguely humanoid figures rose up from the ground. 

I woke abruptly with a sense of foreboding. Something was coming -- time was speeding up; my quiet, comfortable way of life was ending. Panic sat on my chest like a ton of bricks and I struggled to calm myself, focusing on my breath as my pain management therapist had taught me. In through my nose, one-two-three-four. Hold, one-two-three-four. Out through my mouth, one-two-three-four. Hold, one-two-three-four. I visualized my happy place, a primordial forest with a babbling brook. Felt the soft breeze kissing my cheeks, heard the trickling water, tasted and smelled the warm, pine-scented air. Gradually, my heartbeat slowed and my chest felt less compressed. The far side of the bed dipped and a raspy tongue licked my exposed hand. 

“Hey, Samson,” I greeted my oversized black cat as he curled up beside me, already purring. Sighing deeply, I snuggled back down into my blankets, comforted. What a strange dream. My eyes drifted closed and I dozed again.

A few hours later, I reluctantly crawled out of bed to empty my bladder and the menstrual cup, the dream a distant memory, as was Samson. Head still throbbing, I hobbled into the kitchen and filled my water glass before returning to my nest. As I reset the heating pad and curled up, a knock sounded at the door. Unable to answer, I simply lay there, trusting that Maeve would let herself in. The door opened and a soft set of feet walked down the stairs and across the studio to my bed. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” Maeve touched my forehead with a cool hand and the hammering pain momentarily subsided to a dull thud. 

Rolling over, I cracked one eye carefully against the burning light and gave her a pained smile. “Hi,” I wheezed. “Hurts.”

“I know. I brought you some cramp bark tea. I added a spell for extra pain relief.” 

“I love having a witch for a landlord,” I croaked.

Well, it won’t cure you-” she chuckled morosely, “-there’s no cure for womanhood; but maybe it will help.” Deftly, she helped me to sit up and put a large mug in my hand. I sipped the bitter brew, noting that she’d added some sweetness and spice in an attempt to mask the medicinal taste of the herbs. “Mmm, not bad.” Better than Devil’s Claw, anyway! The godawful tea that I drank daily would have been better named Devil’s Ass, but Maeve claimed it kept my magical malady in check. “I had the strangest dream earlier,” I said aloud, trying to recall the details.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you? What was it about?”

“I don’t remember. Aliens? All I know is that it seemed important. And my head hurt when I woke up.”

“Do you recall many of your dreams?”

“Not really. I usually just have some vague impressions when I wake up.”

“Hmm. Try keeping a dream journal if you want to remember them.”

“Yeah, I’ve read about those. Maybe I’ll try it.” I wouldn’t. Dreams were cool, but I didn’t really care if I remembered them. Another sip of tea and the vice around my temples began to loosen. Sitting up a little taller, I drained the mug, setting it next to the cold cup of coffee on my nightstand. The pain in my lower abdomen and back began to ease. With a sigh of relief, I smiled in gratitude at my red-headed savior. “How did you know I needed this? Were you scrying on me?” Crinkling my nose, I let her see that I was teasing.

She snorted lightly. “No. Actually, Jack knocked on my door and asked me to check on you. When I heard your water running a minute ago, I figured you were awake.”

“Aww, what a sweet guy.” Picking up the coffee he’d left for me, I took a sip. Aside from the temperature, it was perfect. I smiled. “He knows how I like my coffee.”

“Black with a splash of soy creamer,” she smirked, rolling her eyes. “Not too complicated.”

Chuckling, I conceded. “I suppose not. You know, I’m not sure how he takes his? You like your tea with just exactly half a spoon of honey, though -- unless it’s chai -- then you add a whole spoonful.” Blushing, she picked up the empty mug and fiddled with it, tapping the ceramic lightly with the tips of her neatly kept almond-shaped nails. A pleasant tingling sensation started at the back of my neck and crept over my entire scalp, making me shiver with delight. 

“Very observant.”

“That’s me -- Observe-Ant.”

She gave a little laugh. “Terrible,” she said, shaking her head, causing her loose, messy bun of copper hair to sway dangerously. I suppressed the urge to reach out, open the jaws of the claw clip, and set the caged mane free, just to watch all that gorgeous fiery hair tumble down her back. Setting the mug down, she looked me over. “Feeling better?” I nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me your periods were so bad? I could have helped sooner.”

“Oh, I-” Pausing to consider, I tracked the timeline. “Well, in March, it came before I moved in -- I think on the 3rd? So we hadn’t met yet. And in April, I had amnesia and forgot that you were a witch, remember? And it always surprises me.” I laughed. “You’d think, after eight -- no, almost nine years -- that I’d know the signs, but somehow it still catches me off-guard. It doesn’t help that it’s super irregular.”

Maeve nodded in commiseration. “Right? Mine’s pretty regular but I get surprised sometimes. It always seems to land on a holiday or when I have something important planned.”

“Oh yeah. Camping, sleepovers, Disneyland -- here’s Aunt Flo, right on time.” We both chuckled. “It wasn’t always this bad. It’s only gotten to ‘stay home and suffer’ levels in the past few years.” I shrugged ruefully. “I guess that’s just one more sign that my condition is degrading or accelerating or whatever.”

Maeve winced and closed her eyes briefly. “Remind me again what Ondine said.”

Straining to recall her exact words, I repeated the cecaelian sea witch’s riddle. “Seek the sources of your illness to find your cure." I spread my hands, palms up. “I have no idea what that means.” To my dismay, I was learning that most things having to do with magic were obtuse and obscured. “Isn’t my body the source of my illness?”

Scowling, Maeve shook her head. “Well, yes, but also no. The illness manifests in your body, but it began with an outside source- no, wait: she said sources? Plural? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” I nodded.

While she pondered that, I took stock of my condition. The migraine was nearly gone. The cramps had eased to “day two” levels. Muscle cramping, aching, and tenderness were all part of my normal these days, so I ignored the pain in my neck, shoulders, arms, and legs. Overall, I was feeling pretty good. My stomach agreed by growling loudly. “Hungry,” I exclaimed happily. I was usually in too much pain to bother with food on Day One. 

“That’s great,” Maeve smiled. “What can I get you?”

“No, come on. You already brought me tea and healed me.” I giggled at my inadvertent rhyme.

She rolled her eyes. “Shush. Anyway, I’m ready for some lunch, too. Shall we order in and watch some anime? You said you’d give it a chance.”

Laughing, I teased my legs out of the tangle of blankets and swung my feet to the cool floor, feeling around with my toes for my fuzzy slippers. “Twist my arm! How about Indian? I have them on my speed dial. My treat, though. I insist.” I figured I owed her, after wrongly accusing her of tampering with my memory. Was that really just two weeks ago? It felt like last year.

The corner of her mouth lifted and she shrugged her narrow shoulders. “If you insist. That sounds great. Put me down for butter chicken.”

Maeve queued up Princess Mononoke while I ordered, choosing vegan chana masala for myself. Curled up comfortably on my couch with a lap blanket each, we chowed down while watching the gorgeously rendered animated movie. I was immediately sucked into the story, rooting for the Forest Gods, frustrated with the town leader for destroying nature for the sake of money. “I can identify with Ash- Ashi-” I struggled to recall the main character’s name.

“Ashitaka.”

“Mmm-hmm, him. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been cursed by a demon.”

She shrugged. “You may have been cursed, but not by a demon.”

Cocking my head in curiosity, I gestured for her to explain.

“Sorry, I- uh,” she fidgeted, cheeks a soft pink. “I don’t know why I said that. Just a gut feeling, I guess.” Standing abruptly, she gathered her dishes and reached out to take mine. 

I handed them over, head still tilted as she walked to the kitchen sink. What’s that about? Facing the sink, her back to me, she rinsed the dishes, speaking loudly over the running water. “So, earlier, you said it had been almost nine years since your first period -- does that mean you have a birthday coming up?” 

Looking up the date on my phone (May 26th already? How did the month fly by so fast?), I nodded, although she couldn’t see me. “Yeah, in a little less than a month. June 21st.”

Turning off the water, she faced me, leaning back against the counter’s edge. “Oh, a Gemini.” She frowned and nodded as if putting puzzle pieces together. “That definitely fits,” she concluded.

I shrugged, clueless. “I don’t know anything about astrology. I don’t even check my horoscope.” 

Smiling, she returned to the couch, pulling the fleece blanket over her long legs as she took a cross-legged seat, her back against the armrest. I copied her posture so that we were facing each other. 

“Horoscopes have to be vague and generalized by their nature. After all, there are billions of people and only twelve zodiac signs. But with a proper natal chart, you can get pretty specific results. Do you know where you were born and at what time of day?”

“Nope.” I twined a strand of hair around my finger. “Adopted, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Maeve looked thoughtful, brows furrowed. “Hmm. Sources…”

“What?”

She shook her head. “I was just thinking, if you’re adopted -- you don’t know where you were born, don’t know what your ‘source’ is -- then I flashed on what Ondine said.” She grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

I gestured for her to explain.

“Your parents. Your real parents-” seeing the look on my face, she quickly backpedaled. “I mean, your biological parents. Wouldn’t they be your ‘sources?’”

“Huh.” I considered the idea. “I guess so.” 

She nodded happily. “That could be it, Ant! Children inherit genetic diseases; why not curses or magical maladies?”

“That does make sense, I suppose. It’s just-” Twisting my hair tighter around my finger, I frowned. “I’ve never had any desire to find my bios.” I shrugged. “I don’t really want to know anything about them. I love my parents, and seeking out the people who gave me up feels wrong somehow.” 

“But surely…” Maeve bit her bottom lip. “Surely your adoptive parents -- Sandra, right?” I nodded. “And what’s your dad’s name?”

“Randall.”

She chuckled. “Sandy and Randy, that’s funny.”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Sure. It never gets old.”

She laughed outright. “Ha! I bet. Sorry. People are funny about names, aren’t they? I got a lot of ‘behave, Maeve’ jokes. ‘Antigone’ must have been fun to grow up with, too.”

I snorted. “You know it! Mostly it was mispronunciations: Anti-jon or Ant-ee-joan: for some reason, they couldn’t grasp the hard G sound: Ant-eh-gone-ee. When one teacher started calling me Jenny, I decided to go by Ant instead.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Mm-hmm. I always have to spell out ‘Maeve.’ Anyway, as I was saying, surely Sandra and Randall looked into your background when this illness manifested.”

Flashing back to my thirteenth birthday, the day of my first seizure, I remembered my dad cursing when the ER doctor asked about our family medical history. “Maybe,” I said. “I don’t really know. I’ve never asked them anything about my adoption or my bios.” Shaking my head, I wondered why that was. Shouldn’t I be curious about my origins? What if my condition -- man, I wish there was a name for it -- what if it was genetic? Ugh. The Indian food wasn’t sitting right in my stomach. I passed a hand across my forehead, pausing to rub the burning spot just above the center of my brows. 

“Are you feeling okay?”  

Making a face, I nodded, then changed my mind. “I think maybe I need another nap.”

Maeve patted my knee. “Sure. I left a container of the spelled tea on your counter by the microwave -- if your cramps come back, just steep a teaspoonful in a cup of boiling water for five minutes.” 

Nodding, I kept rubbing my forehead as she got up and folded the blanket, laying it on the back of the couch.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said brightly. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you so much, Maeve. For the tea, and the movie, and everything.” A lump arose in my throat and I swallowed hard. “You’re the best.”

She waved the sentiment away and headed up the stairs. “It was nothing. Sleep well.”

After a few old episodes of Buffy and another cup of tea, I did indeed sleep well, right through the night, with no dreams that I could recall.