“Slow down. I’ll give it more thought over the weekend. I can’t drink too much, anyway. I’m meeting Barak and Estelle later. They’re travelling back today and should arrive at Chadwick House soon. Lucien is already there, of course.” Chadwick House used to belong to William Chadwick, until he was killed. He’d left it to The Orphic Guild in his will. Harlan’s boss, Mason, was happy for it to be used by their contractors, and Lucien was living there for now. He was searching Chadwick’s study for anything that might be relevant. As an occult collector before his death, he had many arcane volumes there, and they thought it prudent to check them all. “Want to join us?”
“I’ve got a date with a pregnant woman.”
“Olivia? What are you two up to?”
“She’s seeing Morgana for a check-up. I thought I’d offer some moral support.”
Jackson noted his friend’s earnest expression. “You’re taking your uncle role very seriously.”
“I can’t help it. I’m worried, and with Nahum away, I don’t want her to be alone. I know the Moonfell witches are great and everything, but, you know…”
“I know. She’s okay, though?”
“She’s great. Excited!”
“Even more reason to find Belial. Give her my best.”
Harlan nodded, rising to his feet. “I will. If you find anything of interest in that manifesto, let me know. But accept the job! You’ll be brilliant at it.”
“Thanks, Harlan. I appreciate it.” Jackson watched him leave, thoughts immediately drifting to Amato. He had a few hours to investigate his background. He’d see what else he could dig up.
“Are you sure she’s all right?” Olivia asked Morgana, scrutinising her expression for anything that might suggest otherwise.
“I’m not lying!” Morgana pursed her lips, but then immediately softened as she ran her hand a few inches over Olivia’s still-flat abdomen again. Olivia could feel the witch’s magic like a gentle warmth. It comforted her. “She’s perfect. Stop worrying.” She stood back, her examination over.
“And still hardly a bump!” Harlan noted. He squeezed Olivia’s shoulder as she sat up. “You look radiant.”
Olivia adjusted her clothing, glad she could still wear her skinny jeans and silk blouses for a while longer, and then patted her stomach. “I thought I’d be feeling sick by now, but I’m fine!”
“That’s Nephilim blood for you.”
The three of them were in Morgana’s private consultation area on the south side of Moonfell house, comprised of just three rooms—an examination room/office, a herb preparation room, and a bathroom. It had its own private entrance that was tucked into one of the building’s many nooks and crannies. There wasn’t even a door into Moonfell’s interior. The better for privacy, Morgana told them. That explained why Olivia had never seen the rooms when she had wandered the house before Christmas. However, they were still decorated in Moonfell’s flamboyant style. Morgana was a witch, after all, and used magic to help her clients, not science.
Morgana jotted a few notes into a file on her desk and then turned to face them. She looked a little less severe than usual. Her long hair was loose, and she wore a dark blue dress instead of her customary black, but it was still loose fitting and long, with a thick, colourful cardigan to add warmth, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. “I must admit that I’m not sure what to expect of a Nephilim baby. Potentially, it could grow much quicker than a normal child, or will be bigger. I have chatted privately to Nahum about this though, and he reassures me that previous pregnancies have all progressed like any normal, human-fathered one.”
Olivia recoiled in shock. “I didn’t know you chatted to him alone!” Nahum certainly hadn’t said so. It made her feel like a child. “You can tell me these things!”
“Of course, and I’m telling you now. But, if the pregnancy was moving along quicker than expected, we would all have had to adjust. I wouldn’t have wanted you worried, or your energy depleted. Fortunately, though, all is as it should be.” She smiled as she leaned back in her leather chair. “It’s given quite the bloom to your cheeks.”
“I know. Everyone keeps telling me how well I look, and they have no idea I’m pregnant. I haven’t told anyone yet. Not even my best friend.” Olivia felt horribly guilty about that, but thought it best to stick with regular time frames. “I won’t tell either, not until the first scan. I’m hoping Nahum will be around for that.”
She felt Harlan stir, knowing he was worried about their relationship. He’d become oddly protective lately, which was sweet, but unnecessary. And Maggie was being Maggie. Belligerent and forthright. Although, she had already brought her a pack of newborn baby clothes, unexpectedly revealing Maggie’s tender yet practical side. Jackson was wonderful, like an indulgent brother, and that reminded her of Nahum’s brothers. Blimey. They were something else, and her reception at New Years when she went to stay with Nahum at his Cornwall farmhouse… Well, she was treated like a queen. Not that they were together, of course. She had her own room, and he was courteous and solicitous, and very much at arm’s length, when all she wanted to do was get him naked again…
Morgana’s lips twitched with amusement, as if she knew exactly what Olivia was thinking. “I’m glad Nahum is being supportive, but I would expect nothing less. He’s extremely charming. How is he? I gather he’s off chasing Belial.”
“They’re in Florence, Italy. The team had a run-in with one of Belial’s agents last night. He’s dead now. The shrine was destroyed—accidentally, of course,” she said, watching Morgana purse her lips.
“I’m not disapproving. I’m frustrated. Did they find anything out before he died?”
“Just that there are more of them.”
“And,” Harlan added, “that there was a lot of jewellery there. They managed to take some of it and place it safely in the spelled box that the Cornwall witches supplied, but some of it was lost forever. Well, we hope forever.” Harlan ran through the events, and they coincided with what Nahum had told Olivia, which was good. At least he hadn’t held anything back.
Morgana’s eyes widened in surprise. “They were caught in a trap?”
“Yeah.” Harlan huffed. “Seems to be the season for them. Shadow had to break it with JD’s weapon.”
“The priest, Amato, said that Belial had scored the trap into the rock?”
He nodded. “Do you think he was lying?”
“If he wasn’t, it’s very worrying! He’s either found a way to act here, or it has been here for millennia.”
“It was a very old shrine, hidden deep beneath a church,” Olivia informed her, “so yes, perhaps it was that old. I think the shrine was hacked out of bare rock.” She felt dizzy with it all. “If I hadn’t found that reliquary, we would have known nothing. Surely that means whatever is happening is on a small scale? No one even knew!”
“No one knew about Black Cronos, either, and there was nothing small about that. But,” Harlan said, “actually I agree, and as I said to Jackson, there’s no reason for us to get panicky.”
Morgana snorted. “Have you forgotten the night we banished him?”
“How could I? It’s imprinted on my brain. But a few lone religious nutters spreading his word might not amount to anything.”
“Bollocks to Belial!” Olivia was sick of hearing about him. “I’m pregnant. I want positive thoughts around me. Morgana, should I be doing anything? Or can you detect anything? Does the baby have wings?”
“Good grief! I hope not. You don’t want to give birth to that.” Morgana laughed. “It’s a baby! Although, I will admit to feeling a strong spirit, and most definitely a whiff of Nephilim magic.”
Olivia felt a fool for confessing, but… “I’ve never considered that they have magic. Not like you.”
“Because it’s not like a witch’s magic, or fey magic, either. It’s their own, angelic magic. Diluted, of course, being half-angel, and their human part is dominant, but supernatural strength, healing, speed—and wings—are all magic.”
