Texas Nights - Book 13 of the Damned of the 2/19th

Late Night Discussion

Captain Misty Jane's House
Killeen, Texas
CONUS
05 Feb, 1992
2030 Hours

Aine looked different than I remembered her. Before she'd been slender, petite, apple sized breasts, with a heart shaped face with too-large slightly tilted grass green eyes, curly red hair, cupid's bow mouth with bright red lips, and too small, even white teeth.

Now she was... plump. Her belly was rounded under her dress, breasts larger and more full, cherry lips slightly pouty as she swayed into view from the darkness of the kitchen, by the sliding glass door that led to Misty's back yard.

She was dressed in a gingham dress, like always, with a creme colored sash belted around her waist, and bare feet stained with grass. She had water droplets in her crimson hair, as if she had been outside and ended up dew sprinkled.

Aine's voice made Misty scream. When the tiny woman stepped from the kitchen Misty started to stand up, mouth open, and I yanked her back down.

"Be still," I hissed at her. "You are in danger."

"Stories are my favorite sweet," Aine sighed. "Ones that hold my name, and the name of my beloved boy, my soul bound boy, my sweet Aodan, are my favorite among such delicious things, and I long to hear those words from my blood sister's lips."

"Aine McCullen, war-bride of Paul Foster," I said, nodding slowly. "Blood sister, battle-sister, summer-fey blooded."

I remembered that the holly normally woven into my hair was now on the floor of Misty's bathroom. I was naked, clad only in a towel, without even a pinch of salt to flick at her.

I was defenseless.

"Blood-sister, battle-sister, Celtic witch," she nodded, her voice almost hissing. "Cromwell, of House Cromwell, I know thee and remember thee."

"You're pregnant," I said softly.

She nodded, suddenly smiling, her hands rubbing across her swollen belly. "My Paul has gifted me with another sweet sweet child. Our blood mixed within my fertile womb creating another wonderful babe who even now is growing beneath my heart."

"But I am not here to speak of myself," Aine suddenly dropped down, on all fours, and scampered over to us, curling up in a complex motion before sitting down and folding her legs Indian style. "Tell the story, blood-sister."

It was silent for a moment, only the rumble of thunder a mile or so away.

"Tell us the tale of that dark and cold winter, sister mine," Aine breathed, her eyes sparkling. "Long have I desired to know it."

I looked at Misty, who was staring at Aine wide-eyed. I took a deep breath, and launched into the story. Starting with how the place was a hellscape, touching on Atlas, then into the KGB operation, and finishing up with how we got lost for weeks, months, years in Tir na Nog.

The whole time Aine rocked back and forth, rubbing her belly, smiling at parts, covering her mouth in shock at others, and other times weeping in a choral voice.

Every time Misty went to ask a question of her I shushed her.

We were in very intense danger. My story was the only thing protecting us. Keeping Aine's interest on something besides the two of us.

Aine was pregnant. Pregnant women get hungry. When they get hungry, they eat.

And I couldn't be sure what Aine would think was a good meal.

When it ended, after Aine hid her face at the description of her mother, the tiny woman stood up and gave me a curtsy.

"An excellent story, Cromwell, one I had thirsted to hear," Aine said softly. She looked at Misty and curtsied to her too. "I thank you, Misty Jane, for your hospitality."