Chapter Text
A Wizard's Womb
After the concussive blast of the bomb it was just too much.
“That sneaky little bastard just HAD to get in one more kick,” I grumbled as I slapped the cuffs on the purely vanilla perp. “You okay, Harry?”
“Just took the wind outta me,” she huffed while rubbing her abdomen. “Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark.” She rubbed her belly again, lower down this time.
“That gonna be a problem with your new boyfriend?” I asked acidly.
“He’s NOT my boyfriend!” Harry shot back.
“You’ve been out to dinner with him, twice! AND you wore a dress last time. A dress HE sent you.”
“I was working, Karrin, as extra security. Everybody knows Gard is security. I was undercover.” Harry informed me, emphatically.
“As his girlfriend,” I insisted.
“As his DATE, yes,” Harry corrected, “NOT as his girlfriend! My gosh, Estaban and I only split… um, three- no four months ago?”
“For the second time! At least this time you Know it’s over and he’s not coming back.”
“Not for me anyway,” I could hear the hurt and resignation in Harry’s voice. Then she hissed, took a quick inhale of breath that sounded remarkably like a gasp and tilted forward, grasping her midsection. “Ow!” she exclaimed, glancing in my direction with eyes wide. A surprised, pained look on her long face. “Um, Murph, I don’t think I’m okay after all.”
The practitioner half of our criminal duo began cackling as the uniforms loaded him into the back of the marked car. “Serves you right, you traitor. Turning on your own.”
“Warlocks who steal from and terrify women and children aren’t My people!” Harry spat at him.
“You’re bleeding, Warden,” the oily little thief laughed out wickedly, “down there.” His teeth reflected the yellow light of the nearest still working street lamp as he stretched his lips into a sneer. His eyes, shadowed by his near Cro-Magnon brow ridge, glittered evilly, “I can smell it.” The guy was almost feral.
“Creep,” the uniformed officer guiding the warlock into the car spat. He was a little less then gentle as he shoved the perp’s head down.
A lot of cops weren’t overly fond of Harry, for a lot of different reasons. However, tonight Harry had been standing with us on the thin blue line. Tonight Harry was one of us. The boys in blue get pissy when you mess with one of theirs especially, as antiquated as it is, when the one of theirs is female. I was glad when the door was slammed in the warlock’s face and even more glad that Harry had said he wasn’t strong enough to be unsafe in a mortal prison.
Harry dropped a hand to the inseam of her jeans, about half-way down her thigh. When she lifted it, her hand it looked wet.
“Harry?” I gasped. She cast me another wide-eyed look, this one with a hint of panic in it.
“Yeah, it’s blood, Murph.”
I grabbed the nearest uniformed officer and asked, “Where is your car?” He pointed to a unit on the edge of the current scene.
“Stallings,” I yelled, “take over ’til you hear from me. You,” I pointed to the patrolman I’d accosted, “You’re our escort to County.”
Then I bundled Harry into my car and drove to the hospital with lights and sirens.
“The blood, there’s a lot of it, Murph,” Harry’s voice was a bit shaky.
“Don’t worry about the car, Harry,” I replied.
“Karrin, blood can be used as a weapon against me. You can’t let anyone get my blood,” she pleaded.
“I promise,” I reassured her. At which point she sighed and passed out. I picked up the radio and asked to be patched through to the ER.
People in scrubs and masks met us at the door and lifted a semi-conscious Harry onto a waiting gurney, all six foot two of her. I stashed her staff in my backseat before beckoning to my uniformed escort. “Get someone down here to pick up my unit and wash out the blood before it stains the interior.” I ordered handing him the keys and dashing through the double doors after Harry.
I managed to rescue her duster and the contents of her pockets from the floor as they examined her. They’d tried to cut the coat but couldn’t get the scissors to work. So it was still in tact. Her jeans and T-shirt on the other hand…..
Harry was ashen when they started wheeling her away. I flashed my badge when the nurse tried to stop me from following.
“Where are you taking her?” I’d run to the front of the gurney putting my body between the procession and forward progress.
“To the OR,” responded a stocky man in surgical greens and a white coat. His ID read ‘Dr. Ramesh’. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding, NOW!”
I stepped aside.
“She under arrest?” he asked.
I shook my head, “Police consultant, injured during an arrest,” I answered. “Have the surgeon call me ASAP.” I ordered, handing him one of my cards. “I’m also her medical proxy,” I added. Dr. Ramesh just nodded and moved on.
The nurse then pulled me aside for the admittance paperwork and medical history. But of course, Harry had a rather extensive history already on file. She was a frequent flyer here. Then I made a few calls.
I called Michael but spoke to Charity. I could hear her crossing herself over the phone as I explained where I was and why I’d called. She offered to call Father Forthill and have him light some candles for Harry and tell Michael when he got back from his ‘out-of-town’ trip.
I called Billy and asked him to tell the other Alphas.
I called SI to check in and let them know where I was and why I wouldn’t be back in the office for a while. As I hung up, I realized I’d exhausted Harry’s ‘phone tree’. Only three calls and the call to SI had been mostly for me.
I made a nuisance of myself tracking down Harry’s bloody clothes. I insisted they be incinerated immediately after emptying the pockets which contained only her driver’s license, keys, a few small bills and a handful of change. Everything else must be in the pockets of her coat, which I kept close. Then I leaned my head against the wall and began to wait.
By the time the surgeon found me, so had ‘Gentleman’ John Marcone. That he’d found out about this so quickly irked me. Someone who’d been on site is either in the ‘Gentleman’s’ pocket or was taking advantage of the open bounty he offered for information about Harry. Or worse, Marcone had Harry under surveillance 24/7. He’d definitely upped his interest in her after she’d been part of the werewolf thing. Now he stood pale and silent just inside my peripheral vision and within earshot flanked by Hendrix as the surgeon and I spoke.
“I’m afraid she’s lost the baby,’ he began, his hands resting on his hips, his head bowed, looking at the floor.
Marcone gasped as I asked, “What baby?”
Dr. Ramesh looked up from under dark brows, “Am I speaking to the correct person?” he queried glancing meaningfully toward the two men near me.
“Indeed, you are,” I assured him.
“Good,” he sighed. “We’ve stopped the hemorrhage and she’s stabilized, but she lost a fair amount of blood. She had a placental abruption. We’re going to transfuse her in order replace some of the volume and that’ll take several hours, overnight at least. She’ll also need to take things easy for a couple of weeks. It would be better if she weren’t alone when she’s sent home, at least for a few days.”
Marcone inhaled as if about to say something but I cut him off. “She has friends and CPD will be providing security,” I informed him.
“Adequate for now,” Dr. Ramesh acknowledged. “I’d like to keep her for 48 hours observation before releasing her.”
“Isn’t that an unusually long time?” came from my peanut gallery.
“Marcone-“ I warned.
“As I said,” the surgeon responded, speaking to me, “she lost a lot of blood and she has had surgery under general anesthesia. And I’m told she was caught in an explosion? She hasn’t been conscious long enough to assess her for head injuries. I want to be absolutely sure she’s stable before I release her.”
“I have a special request Dr.” I began. The guy tilted his head to one side quizzically when I asked to have anything with Harry’s bodily fluids on it burned immediately. “She’s sorta Wiccan.” I offered by way of an explanation.
“We usually do incinerate anything disposable, Lt. Murphy,” he reassured me.
“When can we see her?” Marcone asked. Dr. Ramesh raised an eyebrow at me.
“Not the father,” I murmured leaning toward the medical man.
“Lt. Murphy can see her as soon as she wakes. You can see her during visiting hours tomorrow.” He answered Marcone pointedly.
“Where is the schlub?” he asked me in a conspiratorial tone.
“Last I heard,” I sighed, “South America.”
He raised both eyebrows, shrugged and turned speaking over one shoulder as he walked away, “I’ll check on Ms. Dresden tomorrow. The staff will alert me of any changes.”
“Wait,“ Marcone said in his chairman of the board voice, someone who expected obedience, compliance. The doctor stopped. “Is it safe to transfer Ms. Dresden to another facility?”
“It would be better to wait until she’s regained consciousness,” Dr. Ramesh answered, glancing at me, for support I guessed.
“But is it dangerous to transfer her now?” Marcone pressed. The surgeon sighed, again glancing at me. It had dawned on me why the slime ball was pressing the point.
“Please Dr., I’d like to know,” I asked as politely as I could through gritted teeth.
“I don’t recommend it as there is a possibility, though slight, of further bleeding.” He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose between thumb and forefinger. “However, it is possible to move her, if she’s going to a proper facility, not to a private dwelling.” He looked at me rather fiercely this time with dark brown, bloodshot eyes, the beginning of dark circles forming beneath them. I hated doing this, but with Harry it was necessary.
“Get the paperwork ready,” I sighed resignedly, “It’s safer for the rest of the patients here.”
The doctor raised both his dark brows. After a few seconds of darting his eyes back and forth between me and Marcone, he gave a sharp nod. Decision made. He waved a hand as he turned and left us, shaking his head as he went.
“Thank you, Lt.,” Marcone said with a relieved exhalation, almost a sigh.
“Free, unencumbered access to Harry,” I said turning and grabbing his lapels with both hands, pulling him down in order to see his eyes. Old money green Harry calls them. Nothing special about them that I can see. “You try to hide or isolate her and I charge you with kidnapping and bring the place down around your ears.”
He nodded. “HIPPA laws apply even to you. And I have MY people, not yours, providing security.” I continued.
He narrowed his eyes fractionally for a split second before saying, “My people will be less intrusive and less of a strain on your budget, Lt. Besides we both know Harry will be less than pleased with anyone’s security in any case.”
“My people,” I pulled him a fraction of an inch lower, “are her friends!” I hissed. “She will accept their presence as caring concern even if… when she complains.”
“Compromise?” he suggested.
“What?!” I was still holding him to my face, though I could see Hendrix waffling nervously in my peripheral vision.
“Your people in the room or outside it until Harry says otherwise; mine on the floor and in the building,” he suggested.
“They check-in and co-ordinate with my people. Introduce themselves, so they don’t get mistaken for a threat.” I demanded.
“Done,” he said with a decisive nod. “Hendrix, please check that Ms. Dresden’s transport has arrived.” Hendrix, stepped off and began talking into a handset and earpiece like some Secret Service agent. He gave Marcone an affirmative nod of his red topped head. “Mr. Hendrix and I will wait with the transport,” he pulled gently against my hands. I let him go. He and Hendrix left, everyone between them and their destination parting to allow them through, like a boat cleaving water.
It took only about 20 minutes more before Harry’s weary surgeon arrived with the release forms. I was getting worried. The lights were beginning to flicker.
“Where’s the new boyfriend?” he queried.
“The wanna-be is with the transport,” I ground out while signing here, there and everywhere.
“Get used to it, Lt.” the good doctor snorted, “That guy’s not used to taking ‘no’ for an answer. He could be a problem for her.”
The corner of my mouth quirked upwards in what, I’m sure, was a lopsided, sardonic half smile as I returned the tablet of e-forms to his well shaped hands. “Harry can handle him better than he can her. She’s a force of nature. It took a bomb and several body blows to put her here tonight and,” I said with a one shouldered shrug, “she has me for backup.”
“Good,” he exhaled forcefully, “I’d rather not see her back in here in a couple of months beaten black and blue, or worse.”
“Hah,” I grunted, my mouth twisting into a wry smile,” Can’t promise that Doc. Harry’s a PI, always finding trouble and being female doesn’t offer much protection against the people and things she fights these days.”
He sighed, nodding agreement.
“But Marcone won’t be one who hurts her. Not physically anyway.” I stated firmly.
“You’re certain of that?” his tone skeptical.
“Absolutely,” I answered with conviction, “The only way John Marcone lays so much as a finger on Harry is with her consent. The ‘Gentleman’ moniker’s for real.”
“He’s THAT Marcone?” The doctor’s eyes had gone very wide.
“Don’t get scared now, Doc. He’s gone and you stood up to him without pissing him off. He’ll probably try to hire you if Harry’s okay. If he does, think very carefully about whether to accept.” I advised.
Our eyes met. His glimmered with understanding. “Lt.” he nodded at me. I hurried toward the exit. The lights were flickering more rapidly now. “Harry,” I thought.
I found Harry, still apparently unconscious, being loaded into an ambulance. The lights in the bay were flickering wildly but none of them had yet exploded or died. She was mumbling incoherently, still clearly under the influence of the anesthesia. Marcone was watching the process intently.
I stepped up to him, “I’m riding with her,” I glared at him. He stiffened but nodded assent.
“The ambulance has been warded by Ms. Gard,” he informed me in a flat tone. “It should survive the trip without incident despite Ms. Dresden’s obvious distress.”
“Yeah, okay, Marcone, without conscious control she’s a danger to others in the hospital. I get it. But I’m her medical proxy. Not you!”
“True,” he ground out between his teeth, his eyes never leaving Harry. I could swear he was trying to read her lips, to decipher what her mumbled incoherences might mean. “Should someone contact Mr. Rodriguez?” he asked, his voice again, very flat, seemingly emotionless.
“I think not,” I sighed. “I think Harry will be of the opinion that, under the circumstances, Esteban doesn’t need to know about an ‘almost child’ neither of them knew about. She didn’t even know she was pregnant or she’d have told me before now.”
This time his sigh was clearly audible. “Thank heaven for small favors,” he murmured barely above a whisper. He put out his hand offering me a boost up into the back of the ambulance. I hesitated for a split second out of instinct, but I took it. There was just a ghost of smile on his lips as I did so.
Harry seemed a bit more quiet by the time she was settled into her room in the private hospital Marcone had arranged. Ms. Gard was circling the room, apparently testing and evaluating the efficacy of her wards now that Harry was present.
Harry’s eyes opened and darted around the unfamiliar space. She began to thrash and toss about on the bed. I grabbed her hand. I leaned close to her ear, “It’s okay, Harry. You’re safe. It’s me, Murphy. I’ve got your back.” Harry relaxed, closing her eyes again. She was finally just sleeping.
Stallings came by to relieve me after I called in the change of location and explained the situation. I didn’t want to go, but I had work to do and I’d have to feed Harry’s cat and gather a change of clothes for her. Good thing she’d given me that amulet that let me through her wards.
“Don’t worry about the roster, Lt.” Stallings whispered. “Nearly all of SI signed up to take a watch. We’re good for a week at least.” I nodded at that, smiling gratefully. I didn’t know if my people were doing this for Harry or for me. Either way it warmed my heart.
“That’s probably longer than we’ll need. She bounces back pretty quickly, but we both appreciate the support.” Stallings gave me a nod.
I decided to go home and get a few hours sleep and tackle the fallout paperwork after some rest. I whispered the plan into Harry’s sleeping ear. I was really glad Stallings had the first shift. I didn’t want her waking up to a less familiar or less tactful face.
Late next morning, I drove by Harry’s place to check on Mister before heading to CPD. I filled his bowls. After scratching the mini mountain lion to a full voiced purr that sounded like a small outboard motor, I filled a small duffle I found in the closet with some toiletries and a change of clothes. When I’d finished I decided to drop off the bag before heading to the office in case Harry got released today. She’s a fast healer and she wouldn’t want to stay under Marcone’s metaphorical roof one moment longer than necessary. It’s a good thing I did.
I could hear the shouting as soon as the elevator doors opened on Harry’s floor. I pelted at a full run for her door. I found her tottering next to her bed, apparently still a bit woozy from some kind of medication. She was using the bed frame to stay upright. Thomas Raith had a member of hospital security twisted up in a choke hold. Now that he wasn’t yelling, the guy was beginning to turn blue.
“Let him breathe, Raith,” I ordered. “Harry, get back in bed.” I waved a pointer finger between her and the bed. “And where is Stallings?”
Raith just shrugged.
“You expect me to believe he just left?!” I asked incredulously.
“He was tired and I can be uniquely persuasive,” Raith purred suggestively.
“Damned vampire mojo,” I thought. “And this guy?” I prompted.
“Objected to my presence with armed violence,” Raith growled, kicking a small caliber handgun towards me.
“That’s because he’s one of Marcone’s and you aren’t on the visitors list. Now let him go,” I ordered while stooping to retrieve the weapon.
“It’s okay,” I told the security goon. “Mr. Marcone will be pleased.”
“Um,” security guy, Lou, if his ID was to be believed, stammered. “Ah, Mr. Raith is listed as persona non grata by Mr. Marcone’s order.” Smarter than I gave him credit for.
I smiled up at the six foot man with a wrestlers build and in my command voice said, “Good, then Mr. Marcone and I agree. However, I’ll take it from here.”
“But…” Lou began.
“I’ll take care of it,” I snapped and Lou eased out the door, timidly holstering the weapon I now returned to him as he left.
“Wow, I’m impressed.” Raith smirked.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped.
“Heard Harry was here,” he replied with a careless shrug. “Figured I’d check up on her.”
“Why?” Harry and I both asked together.
“I have my reasons,” was all Raith would say.
“Well, you’ve checked. Now vamoose.” I ordered while pointing to the door.
Raith indolently shrugged and obeyed, “See ya’ Harry,” he called over his shoulder as he left.
“You! Back in bed!” I ordered. Amazingly she didn’t comply. “The doctor said 24 hours minimum and that was Marcone’s guy, who is clued in. Not the guy from County.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need security, Murph.”
“As long as you’re in Marcone’s facility, you’re having a watch kept on you,” I insisted.
“And just why am I in Marcone’s ‘facility’?” Harry asked using the air quotes. She nearly tilted over when she took her hand off the frame for the gesture. She didn’t seem pleased.
“It was safer than letting you scramble everything with a circuit board in the whole maternity wing at County.” I replied.
“Oh,” her voice now small and quiet as the logic of the situation dawned on her. “Maternity wing?!” she queried.
“Yeah, about that. You haven’t spoken to your doctor this morning?” I hedged.
“No,” Harry answered.
“Um, yeah, apparently you were pregnant. You didn’t know?” I asked, puzzled.
“No,” she breathed, “I’ve been in an out of the Nevernever so much this past few months I hardly knew what day it was much less which month. I- I hadn’t noticed missed periods." She took a long pause. "Was?” she finally asked.
“Yeah, was, as in; not any more.” and her face just kind of collapsed. I took a step towards her. At just that moment, Marcone appeared in the doorway.
“Security said there was an issue in Ms. Dresden’s room,” he answered my unasked question.
“Yes," I chimed in, ”apparently someone gave orders to restrict Harry’s visitors in violation of our agreement.”
“Only the White Court vampire who’s taking an interest in her,” Marcone replied archly.
“Thomas isn’t… can’t…” Harry began but choked on a sob, her eyes glistening. She looked shocked by the emotion and a bit panicked, “.. not the father,” she managed to finish as a single large tear slid down her face. She reached up with one hand as if surprised to find it there. She started to slide toward the floor, but I got there enough to prevent the fall. Marcone was there a split second later. He lifted her back onto the bed, tucking the thin sheets and blankets around her like a father with a child.
“Just got dizzy,” Harry murmured.
“Sleep,” Marcone crooned softly, “I’ll be here for a while.”
Harry closed her eyes and turned her face toward the window where no one stood and let more tears slide down her face. I could see her shoulders shaking gently. Marcone reached over and rubbed her back gently, offering what comfort he could.
“No, you won’t,” I hissed at him. He jerked his head up sharply. “She shouldn’t be alone.”
“And she won’t be,” I insisted. “Charity is due to arrive any moment. Or do you want to explain yourself to Mrs. Fist of God?”
Marcone actually paled slightly. I smirked and grabbing his elbow I escorted him from Harry’s room.
______