Cursed [Book 1] ✔

Chapter 5: And What Shall We Call You, Little One?

"The other night, when we...well, what exactly happened?" I asked Rafe.

His hands flexed on the steering wheel, and I wished (again) to know what he was thinking. Most days, I rode the bus back and forth to work. Sweaty patrons, crying babies, and men hitting on me were the usual. As thrilling as that was, riding in a car made for a much saner me. Today, I had asked Rafe to take me home. I wanted to have alone time with him to receive a bit of clarity in regards to our sex-capades. Although, wanting to talk about it and actually talking about it were two different things.

It had taken two more days for the fog to lift entirely, and I now remembered most of my nightmare. However, I wasn't entirely convinced the visit with Rosalind had been a dream. What felt like a dream was my renewed sex life.

I had the impressions of making love with Rafe, but it was all so...vague. Vague and lovemaking were not usually synonymous.

Rafe cocked his head sideways. "You don't exactly remember?"

I smiled. "Not exactly, but I've got the gist of things."

"Were you drunk or should I be insulted?"

Before answering, I fidgeted with my seatbelt. "I wasn't drunk, and I'm not trying to insult you. It's just that, I know what we did, but when I woke up, I could've sworn it was all a dream."

Rafe seemed to choose his words carefully: "Let's just say that it was a special night for me, but after your version of what happened, I'm beginning to feel used." His grin diffused the meaning of what he said.

I lightly smacked his upper arm. "You're never serious. Ever since we were little you've...been...like that."

I spoke haltingly, awash in a bright orange glimmer lighting up the car's interior. The source wasn't internal, and when I looked out of the passenger window, we passed landmarks I didn't recognize.

"Why did you take a different route?"

The way home from work was choked with suburbs and strip malls. Despite Graydon's lack of ideal settings, Rafe had managed to drive us through a meadow fit for a picnic. Honey-colored grass swayed underneath a blue sky laden with gently floating dandelion petals, with the meadow giving way to impermeable trees.

Rafe shot me a strange look. "What are you talking about?"

I decided Rafe had taken a detour to surprise me with a romantic afternoon.

"Nothing at all." I settled my attention back to the window.

My sense of a romantic afternoon turned into unease as the woods choked the scenery, leaving the beautiful meadow behind. The sunlight was fading fast, and dusk came on quicker than it should have. Small campfires dotted the landscape, and fanning the flames were bronze-skinned men with feather-adorned locks. Instead of clothing, they paraded around in animal skins.

My confusion increased when one of the men diverted his attention from the fire to point a tattooed arm straight at me. A chill gripped my heart, and I turned to Rafe, who didn't seem to notice anything amiss. The scene on the driver's side kept me occupied, because I realized the man hadn't been pointing at me, but rather beyond me. A dozen men were bearing down upon the encampment on horseback, bearded men with pale skin and dark hair, though some were blond. Swords and other weapons clattered against their sides as they rode toward the lot of natives. One man was clearly the leader from his plumed hat and muscled war-horse. He swiped a finger across his throat, a plain signal to his men. Before the vision reached a resolution, the car swung around and stopped.

We had arrived at my house and were parked in the driveway, my hands clenched around a small black purse. Rafe didn't notice my fright, only that I hadn't moved.

"Are you coming?" he asked, slamming his door shut.

I nodded listlessly, noting that my hands shook as I unclasped the seatbelt.

* * * * *

Why were my visions running as interactive movies outside of my head? Lately, they had taken over, transforming the world around me. Seemed entirely possible for the next one to take over, pull me in, and never let me go.

The last vision reverberated through my mind as I turned the bathwater tap to hot. Why an insight into the past? Native Americans and Spanish settlers couldn't be part of any plausible future.

I stepped into the shower, and the warm water had an immediate calming effect on my nerves. I pushed away what I hoped were simple speculations to allow Rafe's face to fill my thoughts.

For the past few weeks, we had been spending every waking hour with each other. Since I was sans transportation and hated the bus, he insisted on ferrying me back and forth. One night after closing up the shop, I asked him to drive me to his apartment. The meaning in my eyes hurried him along, and we were out of the store faster than usual.

At his apartment, things progressed naturally from laughing together over dinner and wine to tumbling into his bed, fumbling for various buttons and zippers. Even though that had not technically been our first night together, it had felt that way to me. The actual "first" time was still tainted by my nightmare.

In response to that reminder, my stomach lurched. Another minute, and the dinner Rafe had prepared marched back up in a dizzying way. Once I stopped retching, I rinsed off, scrubbing my skin under the luxuriously hot water. I exited the shower some time later, shocked at my mirror reflection.

My stomach, typically flat, sported a slight bump. One might dismiss it as a bloated belly after dinner, by this wasn't normal. I turned to the side to better assess my body changes.

A small hill had taken residence on my stomach, threatening to mature into a mountain. I counted the days slowly...slowly, but I knew the truth.

As I dressed, my every move was dazed. I finally sat on the bed, chin in hand. Rafe turned over, awake because I had toppled clumsily without thinking. He sat up after having seen my expression.

"What's wrong?" He wrapped two warm, strong hands over my shoulders, massaging.

Every time he touched me, an unbelievable feeling coiled in my stomach. Now, a flurry of emotions fluttered inside, and I couldn't stand his touch. I shook his hands off gently, my lips tightening into a hard line.

"I think I'm pregnant."