Chapter Twenty-Four
Ares was going insane. He was doing it quietly and he was making sure that Marty didn’t know about it. But in his quest to find out who assisted in the birth of godly babies, not even Paulie could come up with a solid, single answer.
Paulie, the app that was supposed to be tied into the Zeus network that knew everything there was to know about anything to do with anything, was being deliberately vague. Ares was sure of it. In fact, he would lay money on the fact that the Paulie app was laughing at him, even though the app itself would never be that rude.
As far as Ares was concerned, he had asked a very simple question that, in his mind, would have a very simple answer. Male bodies did not have the biological equipment necessary to give birth, so therefore, somebody, preferably with a gazillion years of experience, would be there to assist when Marty gave birth.
Talking to the app, Ares had wondered out loud if the child simply arrived by magical means. “Is there a spell or a ritual necessary, or could a baby be born with a simple use of godly powers?”
Paulie said, “No. The god Thor tried that, and it didn’t work.”
Ares tried again. “I’m not a doctor, I’m the God of War – helping people give birth is not among my skill sets. Am I meant to call someone when Marty says he’s ready for the baby to come?”
“Anecdotally, every god’s situation has been different,” Paulie had said, sounding decidedly vague about something so important. The app rattled off names such as Bastet from the Egyptian Pantheon, and Silvanus and Artemas, who were tied to the Mother of All, who had helped in some cases. “There have been a few occasions where the Fates themselves have been present at the birth, so no definitive answer can be given in the case of your mate.”
All Ares wanted was one plain answer, one person, one thing, one method that he could stick a pin in, so that he knew whatever or whoever that thing was, it was going to happen when Marty was ready to give birth, and that Marty and the baby would be all right.
“That’s not how it happens, Lord Ares,” Paulie said. “I will, with your permission, advise the god Silvanus that Marty is expecting. I am sure that someone will attend to your mate when it’s time.”
But who? Goddamn it, am I meant to cut my mate open myself? Ares felt the nausea in his throat just thinking about it. But then, just as Ares was prepared to end the conversation until he didn’t feel like he was going to lose his lunch, Paulie said the most ridiculous thing Ares had ever heard.
“You should know, Lord Ares, that in that time when your mate gives birth, you are not allowed to be with him until after the baby has arrived.”
Ares stared at his screen in shock. “Can you repeat that for me, if you don’t mind, Paulie. I seem to have misheard you.” He was doing his best to keep his tone even and calm. “Did you just say I will not be allowed to be with my mate while he is bringing our child into this world?”
“You heard correctly, Lord Ares,” Paulie said gravely. “Not even Lord Zeus was allowed in his blessed mate’s presence when their son Egan was born. That is simply the way it is when males mated to gods, or male gods themselves, give birth.”
Ares hit the roof. He had to go outside, passing his blissfully happy mate who was still eating those damn pickles, on his way out the door. He was ready to rain thunder and lightning on a pesky app, and that was Zeus’s power, not his. He was livid.
“What do you mean I have to leave Marty alone when he’s birthing our child?” he had screamed at his phone. In that moment, he wished Paulie was a real person and not an app, because he would use his damn godly powers and reach through the damn screen of his phone and wring that person’s neck.
Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to translocate to Zeus’s house and actually attack the real Paulie. Ares liked his head where it was, and he had no wish to end up at the bottom of the sea with a cartoon crown on his head, or worse. It was vitally important not to cause Marty any distress, which was why Ares was searching for answers. He could not believe that he wasn’t even going to be allowed to be in the room, when Marty was doing all the hard work involved in giving birth to their child.
But Paulie was adamant, and no matter how much Ares yelled at him, his answers didn’t change. So, Ares was going insane with even more things to worry about.
Meanwhile Marty had apparently regained all of his good humor, now that he had shared the life-changing news. And as the days passed into weeks, Ares watched as his little mate’s belly got bigger, along with his smile.
Marty still tried to eat cake at least twice a week because Ares had been able to tell him that getting sick from certain foods during pregnancy didn’t necessarily last the entire time. So, Marty kept trying, and he kept getting sick, but he still made cakes with Ares, and he was still perfectly happy to watch Ares eat them.
“Oh, oh. Quick, put your hand on my belly,” Marty yelled one afternoon when Ares was pretending to read a book. Putting his book down, Ares spread his palm over his mate’s bulge – the one in his middle, not in his pants.
“What am I doing this for?”
“Feel.” Marty spread his two hands over Ares’ one. “The baby is moving. Can you feel it? Isn’t it just incredible?”
Tilting his head to one side because Ares was sure his mate was joking, his eyes widened as he felt a gentle but definite movement under Marty’s skin. “That’s the baby? Are you sure it’s not just your stomach ready to explode from all the pickles you had at lunch?”
Ares couldn’t understand Marty’s sudden and intense love of pickles and hoped that was just part of a pregnancy phase. He really couldn’t handle the smell of them, but he was hardly going to refuse when Marty asked for them.
“It’s the baby. I know it’s the baby. They’re moving around my belly – it feels like butterflies on my insides.”
Ares and Marty probably sat like that for half an hour before Marty had to go to the bathroom. But the moment Marty was out of sight, Ares was outside again, jabbing the button for the Paulie app.
“Paulie. Paulie,” he whispered, looking back at the pool house. He didn’t want Marty to worry. “How long is a male god’s pregnancy? I thought having a baby took ages. This one is moving already – enough so we can feel it.”
“A typical human pregnancy is, on average, two hundred and eighty days, Lord Ares,” Paulie said. “However, with regards to male gods and their mates, the length of gestation depends on the species of both parties.”
“Raccoons,” Ares said urgently. “You know my Marty is a raccoon shifter. How long will his pregnancy be?”
“A female raccoon in the wild will be pregnant for sixty-three to sixty-five days,” Paulie said.
“Right. Right.” That didn’t sound long at all. Ares tried to work out how long it’d been since Marty told him his news. But then, Marty said he knew he’d been pregnant before he told Ares, so that wasn’t any good. “If we work out an average between the human gestation period and the raccoon gestation period, that would be about a hundred and seventy-four days, thereabouts?”
“Your math is correct, Lord Ares,” Paulie said, and again Ares was damn sure that app was laughing at him, and that wasn’t his paranoia about being hated talking. It was the tone of voice the app was using.
“However, the gestation period for mixed species matings is determined on a number of factors. For example, if it was you who were carrying your child, then the pregnancy would be closer to the two hundred and eighty days. In the case of your mate being the one who is pregnant, he could give birth a lot sooner than your hundred and seventy-four day estimate.
“You have to remember your mate is physically smaller, his shifter spirit animal is also considered small in terms of shifter sizes. Smaller creatures give birth a lot sooner than larger animal types, because to do otherwise would be uncomfortable for them.
“There is also the case that you personally are physically bigger than your mate, and you have contributed half of the genetics for your child. If the baby tends more toward your genetics than your mate’s, they are likely to get large very quickly, necessitating a birth sooner rather than later.”
“Paulie, when is Marty going to give birth? Just give me one straight answer.”
“Being a seer is not part of this app’s coding,” Paulie said smoothly. “I am sure you will know when the time comes. All hail Lord Zeus and his wonderful mate, Paulie.”
“I’ll fucking all hail on your ass, you no-good piece-of-shit app,” Ares hissed as the screen went black and he heard the French doors open.
“Ares?” Marty stepped outside, smiling widely as he rubbed his belly. “Were you waiting for me so we could go for a walk? Perhaps we could check and see how the strawberry plants are doing?”
Strawberries. My mate wants strawberries. At least I know how to do that. Ares hurried over, and Marty slipped his hand around Ares’ elbow. He was sure his whole body would crack into a million pieces if Marty slipped, or worse, fell over.