O Fortuna

Chapter 17

-/-/-/-/-/-

Tears dripped into Adalind's dinner as she sat alone in the silent loft.

The wonderful, normal life she built was coming apart before her eyes. Her powers were back, Rosalee was terrified, and Nick was going to leave her. Next week this time, she would be alone.

Again.

She wrung her hands over and over as the dinner plate stared back. She ought to eat. She had to for the baby, but she didn't have any appetite.

Her memories turned backwards. Mom was stomping through the house, yelling, hurling curses at her father while he stood there in stone faced silence. Adalind made engine noises as she flew her witch dolls out of the bedroom and down the hallway. She passed pictures of grandmother and grandfather before turning the corner into the kitchen.

"Daddy!"

Her father was three steps from the door when he turned, stooped low, and held out his arms. "Hey pumpkin. Come give daddy a hug."

She ran towards him but her mother cut her off. She stretched a finger straight out and pointed back down the hall. "Back to your room Elizabeth. It's past your bedtime."

Her father replied, "Cat, one hug won't hurt anything."

She pooched out her lips and took another step towards her father, but her mother closed the gap and turned her towards the bedroom.

Fury rushed into her father's face and he stood full height, clenching his fists and flexing the muscles in his thick forearms, but he paused when he looked into her eyes. His entire body drooped, and he said, "Your mother is right. It's past time for bed." He held out his hand. "Come on, I'll tuck you in"

Adalind's chest ached as the rest of the dream unfolded. Her mother had stepped in and sent her to bed without a hug. That was the last time she ever saw her father.

Rattling shook her back to the empty loft. She gasped as the glass of water spit and sputtered clouds of steam. Heat was shimmering off the glass as she closed her eyes and beat her emotions back into a box. What would Nick say? What would he do? She shuddered at the thoughts. Adalind Schade was back in the big leagues, and she was going to have to control herself.

Kelly's crying clawed her back to real life. His legs were drawing up while his red face contorted. She picked up the baby howling from colic and went to work. She bounced and patted him, then squirted a double dose of gas drops onto his tongue. She was concerned, because at first, the colic only took small doses and they worked instantly. Now, he was past the highest recommended dosage and it would be fifteen or twenty minutes of soothing to get him settled.

Her mother's couch was still the closest thing in the house to a rocking chair, so she bounced and sang to him while the remedy worked its way into his system. Adalind's arms and stomach muscles were stiff when he finally settled half an hour later. Her body was heavy from today's mental and emotional overload, but her little man was hungry.

Kelly bounced in her lap and giggled. Adalind couldn't help but blow a raspberry into his belly. Her baby rewarded her with a chorus of laughter. The second time, he giggled and babbled, then patted her face the same way he did to Rosalee.

"You don't want to see that nasty old thing, do you buddy?"

He bounced and patted harder while babbling back. She tickled his chin, and said, "You really want me to do this?"

He cooed back and pressed his lips into her cheek. Her stomach fluttered and warmth filled her from the joy of baby kisses. She worried about his reaction, but remembered his curiosity earlier.

Adalind filled herself with happy thoughts and twisted her head. Her smooth skin hardened and cracked as her slick blonde hair knotted and matted into stringy gray clumps shrouding her mummified Hexenbiest form. Kelly bounced and clapped. Now enraptured, tiny fingers explored the fissures and cracks in her brown, desiccated skin.

Kelly silently probed the holes where dried flesh had once covered her teeth, exploring the exposed ligaments in her cheek. Her biggest surprise was that her son had absolutely no fear.

Like his father.

Instead of recoiling in terror, he giggled when she ground her jaws and blew a raspberry into his soft cheek.

They played like this for another ten minutes. Kelly clapped and his eyes glittered when Adalind levitated a stuffed teddy bear and flew it around his head and landed it on his hand. His face lit into a grin. His slap batted it flipping end over end towards the ceiling, but she sent it flying back to him.

He was getting hungry, so she transformed back into her human form. His face turned beet red. Kelly screamed and cried, patting her face and pulling on her shirt. She opened her blouse and prepared for feeding time, but he coughed and whined while pushing her away.

That made absolutely no sense, but she was ready to try anything to quiet him back down, so she transformed back into her Hexenbiest form. His smile came back in an instant, and he tugged at her.

Tantrums and disappointment were officially on the menu for the evening. Hexenbiests couldn't breastfeed. Everyone knew that. Adalind had already beaten all the odds, but their mummified forms simply were not capable. Her species invented every single milk substitute using Wesen, Kehrseite, and animal milk, and then pioneered almost every baby formula in existence specifically because of this.

Adalind had woged and looked at that disgusting nakedness a grand total of once. A single glimpse left her nauseated. Her carefully manicured, rubber-smooth skin was replaced by hard, gritty, broken tissue full of holes where dried bone and rotten ligament showed through. The remains of one breast was simply a jagged crater revealing bleached ribs. The other looked like a rotten prune after being stomped. She shook the thoughts away. The rest had been worse.

His tugging and pulling grew more insistent with the coughs and threatened cries. Her broken teeth ground in a circle. "Sure you really want to try this, kiddo?" All it can do is not work, right?

She wiped a warm rag over her left breast. It wouldn't make the pages of a men's magazine, but to her utter amazement, it was all there. An actual nipple even crowned the gray flesh ringed by a knobbly, star shaped scar where the hole had been. Even more surprising was the trickle of white oozing out.

She offered it and he went straight to work.

The happiness radiating off of her son pushed a breath of life into her. Maybe Rosalee was freaked out and Nick might leave, but Kelly loved her the way she was. The loose bones sticking out of the remnants or fingertips drifted through Kelly's wispy hair. A thousand doubts and worries started to ebb.

Her son finished and she worked out a couple small burps. She transformed into her human form and let him splash and kick in the bath before bed. It only took a bit of rocking and he drifted straight off to sleep.

A hot shower washed away a layer of stress and gave her time to think. Kelly's joy had been a surprise. And Rosalee was trying. Maybe things aren't completely ruined. As much as she had been holding onto the notion that her powers were gone, they weren't. They had never been gone, not like last time. Everybody knew that, right?

The following day was so quiet it was eerie. Nick and Monroe were flying home, Rosalee was tied up in preparation, and she was making sure the house was ready. The bed got fresh sheets. The bathroom, another scrub and fresh towels, the kitchen, squeaky clean, and a six pack of Nick's favorite Voo Doo Child IPA stood at the ready in the fridge.

The streetlights were throwing wide halos against the Loft's tall windows when the service elevator's slatted wooden door clattered open. She expected Nick to be jet lagged and grouchy, to want nothing but a shower and flop straight into bed, especially after not finding whatever it was they were looking for, but he bounced in, riding on a high.

She slid her arms around his neck. Her skin tingled from the power throbbing through his body. Tendrils of ancient magic rippled and kissed her flesh, enhancing his affection with a honeyed elixr. As he chitter-chattered, it was pretty clear that he was unaware of whatever it was that he got into, but it had him wound up, pinging.

He didn't have to tell her why he was ready to get Kelly down. He didn't seem to notice the kiddo huffing and patting at her face before feeding time. Luckily, she had it all planned out. She had already pumped plenty of Hexenbiest milk, and may have snuck in a bit of witching to quiet little man.

She was a little worried now. She had made a promise to herself never to turn Nick down when he needed sex, and he clearly did. She just needed to control herself, but that wasn't easy after a week of anticipation topped off with with Nick's sensual touch enhanced by the golden wisps of magic melting into her flesh. His shirt cascaded onto the polished cement a minute before she flopped onto the bed under him.

His skin was waxy and gray soon after her legs wrapped around his hips. Her hands roamed his muscular back. His entire body was hard and his skin was like new saddle leather: Smooth but impossibly tough. She brushed her teeth against his collarbone and lightly pinched. His sunken eyes beckoned her further, so she bit deeper, but her hardest bite into the base of his neck didn't even leave a mark. It was like biting a football, but it sent him over the edge. She kept pulling herself back, but he worked his way around her defenses and sent waves of pleasure slowly bubbling through her. Somehow, he kept her riding just inside the threshold of her control, and she experienced another first.

The end of round two found a weary Adalind kicking off all the covers as she snuggled into the crook of his chest. She rubbed over the hard muscles of his arms and stomach and started to tell him about her powers, but he was already out. His body was cold and silent, sleeping the sleep of the dead. Satisfaction washed over her. She had finally laid it on Nick like he laid it on her.

Tomorrow.

I'll tell him tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and went with barely a glimpse. He was off long before dawn on the case of the mayoral candidate's assassination followed by searching for the crazy Wesen group behind it. That day turned into the next before she worked up the courage to ask him, hypothetically, how he would feel if her powers came back.

She let down her mental shields and allowed his swirling thoughts come to her.

Of course he knew her powers were only suppressed. There would probably be some hiccoughs and bumps when they came back, but he was prepared to deal with it so long as she was... They could get through that. That's not what he was worried about.

He was worried about the day when she remembered who she was living with and called it quits. They had been enemies since the first time they met and had tried over and over to kill each other since, and now he couldn't sleep unless she was laying on his chest. Truthfully, things had been going from bad to worse with Juliette for a while. In hindsight, he should have broken that off a year earlier. Turning her into a Hexenbiest was just the final gallon of gas poured on top of their burning dumpster fire.

His thoughts turned back to his mother crashing his third marriage proposal to Juliette with Adalind and baby in tow. She seemed decent enough until she got around Renard and then turned back into a massive bitch. That's what he was really worried about. It felt different now. Adalind was different. They had a kid together, and she could leave any time she wanted. In fact, he was surprised every single day he walked in and found her there. He wished he could give her better than their few stone age appliances, beat up furniture, Juliette's twenty-year old car, buzzing lights, and leaky windows that rattle when it rains. We live in an industrial park for crying out loud.

His thoughts drifted to her breasts and soon he was mentally undressing her. She eased her mental shields back into place. Her chest settled as the worry ebbed. Provisionally, things were ok. Things were a lot better than OK. She wasn't chained to a stone floor. She had actual food. There wasn't anybody jamming guns into her ribs or standing at the ready to rip her belly open and pour the baby out.

Best of all... The glittering sweetness of that ancient magic was all over him again. She didn't know how or why, but that, coupled with the adrenaline and his bloody knuckles from giving some Wesen a beat down made her knees weak. She was salivating before he got her shirt off. She gently pulled his fingers into her mouth and savored the honeyed mojo while he kissed down her body and soon she was on top, silently rocking with his rhythm. Pleasure rippled through her and his smile lit. Mischief and desire filled his eyes and he rolled her over and took the top.

Two days turned into a week but she still hadn't told him. She had tried, over and over. She couldn't with this new craving for The Grimm and the weird magic he had stumbled into. Adalind wasn't exactly looking forward to the day when it finally washed out of his clothes.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Her eyes popped open with a start. The bed beside her was cold and empty. Nick was pulling another double shift when the moonlight glinted off the words imprinted on the cover of Bud's grandmother's bible. The one she had not touched out of abject terror, because: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. It was only a matter of time before the invisibly thin cord protecting her broke and she would burn.

But...

The flicks of gilding left on the worn leather beckoned. Her mouth was wet and her heart pounded with anticipation at the same time as her fingers trembled and her stomach knotted. She swallowed hard as cold chills rippled over her back and chest. Obedience was better than sacrifice? Right? That's what it said.

Steam crackled and sizzled off her fingers when they met the cover, leaving powdery fingerprints, but it didn't feel hot. It was like picking up a regular book, except mirages shimmered off her fleece pajamas and hair. A heavy shroud of calm settled over her, blotting the wind, cars, and trains out. The light breeze carrying the oily stink of asphalt flicked the pages through her fingers until they settled on a passage. Her mouth was thick and fat and her head buzzed. The glittering skyline receded until only the words existed bright and crystal clear. There were teachings about a woman searching for lost coins, a shepherd looking for missing sheep, and a son who wasted his inheritance. Something precious was lost. Something very important needed to be found.

The Portland skyline gently washed back into focus. Stillness quieted her as the back of her hand scrubbed the crusted salt tracks under her eyes. She was standing on the roof shivering and wishing her head was tucked into Nick's shoulder. The nights alone were wearing on her.

Adalind quietly padded down from the roof and he was already in bed. A shiver rippled over her. Had he come to the roof and found her in a trance? His hair was still wet, but his mouth was twitching and his arms were jerking. His lip curled and he slashed a flurry of fists and elbows. She rubbed sleepy eyes and waited, but the intensity of his nightmare only increased. She ached for the place beside him. The nightmares could be soothed with a single touch, but he would know. The Grimm would discover the Hexenbiest invading his home unawares and usurping his bed.

Her body sagged as she snuck away and huddled on the couch. Amber halos glowed and rippled across the tall windows. She silently sobbed, shaking as she wiped tears. The verses turned over and over in her mind but didn't make any sense. She didn't have any sheep, silver coins, or children demanding their inheritance. Monroe would know what it meant. He always knew, but she wasn't going to roll her boyfriend's bestie out of bed at one in the morning, so she stared at the ceiling and wondered while longing for the sweet silence of Nick's chest.

-/-/-/-/-

Her eyes fluttered open to feet padding past. Adalind scrubbed sleep filled eyes as the coffee pot popped and hissed. Nick's baritone voice rumbled quietly. "I didn't mean to wake you. Everything ok?"

"You were having nightmares."

His eyes were ringed with black. "I'm sorry. You should have woke me up." His look said he wished she had.

"You were sleep fighting."

His face melted into a guilty frown. He passed her a cup of coffee and talked about the cases. Some Kehrseite Lucha wrestler had paid for an enchanted mask made out of a woged Wesen face. It gave him special powers, but had driven him completely insane. They had been up late reversing the incantation to release the man, and today he was back on the case of the mayoral candidate's assassination by some Wesen terrorist group. Unfortunately, they were at a dead end without more information but Meisner's secret agents weren't sharing.

An hour later, she was unpacking boxes with Rosalee when Monroe wandered past the heaped burlap bags of calcium carbonate and cranked up the coffee. He was truly a cork sniffer, and Adalind loved him for the rich, savory nectar dripping out of the funnel. He was regaling her with the tale of his research and two hundred seventy-one trials optimizing the blessed drink. Microwave the water to one hundred sixty-five degrees and then run it through eight times as many grinds as usual. Each brand and variety required a slightly different recipe. It was hard to argue with perfection. His coffee was incredibly rich, flavorful, and distinct without any bitterness or rancid edge. Now it was her turn to poke a bit. "Nick made me coffee this morning."

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

She shrugged. "Whatever is cheapest. Mostly off the clearance rack."

Monroe shuddered. "Blasphemy! We were counting on you to keep him out of that sort of evil. It's probably gone bad. Did he run the coffee maker extra hot and bring out all the weird aftertastes?"

She nodded. Winding up Monroe like this was extra fun. "It was like tar. Bitter and angry with a really grassy aftertaste."

"Expired Folgers. You have the smell over you, the stink of Nick's ruined coffee." He was pacing and ranting while Rosalee sniggered. Monroe was on a roll. "Just the other night, he burnt coffee all over the inside of my pot. How does he even do that? I disconnected the wiring on the carafe heater and he still burned it! He's like the angel of coffee death."

They laughed a little while longer, and Adalind breached subject of her bible passages.

Monroe half smiled and half frowned as he curled his arm around Rosalee's waist. "Something extremely important that's missing. Yeah, of course. We just talked about that passage in Sunday School. Sometimes..." His phone cuckooed. Wrinkles formed on his forehead. He put up a hand and launched into clock talk with a client. A minute later, he headed past the shelves and through the wooden door behind the cash register.

A few minutes passed, but Kelly was getting grumbly. The spice shop's door swung open with a welcoming jingle. A few regulars were here for their prescription refills and a round of morning Wesen Community gossip. The last thing she needed was the Eisbeibers and Mellifers finding out about about her new feeding routine. She slung the baby bag over her shoulder and hoisted the car seat. Little ones provided all the excuses she needed.