Page 228 of Bedeviled

“Try to rest. It’ll likely be morning before you’re fully dilated and effaced.” She gives my foot a final squeeze and slips back out of the room.

Memnon watches her leave with narrowed eyes.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” I whisper.

“No reason,” he says casually.

I should probably be concerned for Tracy. “She’s just doing her job,” I say.

“I’m unimpressed.”

“It’s not her fault her magic doesn’t work well with mine,” I say.

Memnon sighs, then places a hand on my belly. His magic spreads over me, and I exhale the moment it sinks in.

But this time, his spell wears off pitifully fast, and by the time 3:30 a.m. rolls around, I am more than just uncomfortable.

I moan as a wave of pain comes, worse than the last. Things that are more enjoyable than labor: fighting off demons, running into battle, sustaining a mortal wound.

Memnon’s hand is back on my belly, but this time his pain relief spell doesn’t do anything.

I really should’ve tried to get an epidural when I had the chance, even if it meant giving birth in a non-magical hospital.

“You know what’s rude?” I pant out between contractions. “Mother Nature tricking us into making sex fun.”

Memnon leans close, stroking the sweaty skin of my face. “That’s not the rude part, little witch. It’s this part that was rude of her.”

I want to respond, but pain closes up my throat. The waves of it intensify rapidly, far more so than I expect. And then⁠—

Maiden, Mother, Crone.

“I have to push,” I whisper. “I think—I think right now.”

I’m already biting back a cry that wants to escape.

Memnon’s eyes widen at my admission. I can feel his excitement and his concern. He reaches over the bed and hits the call button for Tracy.

I close my eyes as the sensation intensifies. Another cry slips out from between my gritted teeth as the pain consumes me. Each second of the contraction feels like an eternity, until finally, finally, it subsides. I draw in deep lungfuls of air.

Memnon turns to glance at the door to our room, and I can hear his stray thought. Where is the midwife?

It’s a decent question. I’m not the only laboring patient in this facility, but I also know Tracy isn’t the only midwife here tonight either.

Rotating back to face me, Memnon says, “Do you want me to go get⁠—”

“Don’t leave me,” I beg pathetically.

I only have a minute or two before another contraction rolls through my body.

Memnon gives a sharp nod, then moves from my side to the foot of the bed. He lifts the bottom edge of the sheets, and slides my gown up.

I suck in a breath. “What are you doing?”

Memnon spreads my legs apart. “Helping you deliver our child.”

I lick my dry lips, the Call light still blinking.

Memnon, meanwhile, inhales sharply. “Gods be merciful,” he breathes, “I can see our child’s head.” He sounds wondrous. He glances up at me and adds slyly, “It’s still a pretty pussy, by the way.”