Chapter 25
Where the hell was she?
Savannah startled awake in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. The last thing she remembered was blasting Manea to save Jasper. Where that power had originated from was just as much a surprise to her as it had been to her unsuspecting nut job goddess mother.
Jasper!
Where was he? Was he alive? Oh, dear lord, please let him be safe.
She shot out of the bed, her legs entangled in creamy white silk bed sheets. Unwinding the sheets from her legs, Savannah stumbled around the large room. Candle flames flickered from an ornate candelabra overhead. The shimmering, spotless white marble floor was so cold on her feet that she hopped over to a shaggy rug in front of a dresser across the room, the fabric soft, yet so warm.
Peering into the oversized mirror, Savannah stumbled back in shock until she crashed back onto the bed.
Her hand flew to her belly. No longer flat. Perfectly rounded. The skin stretched the silk nightdress she wore that happened to perfectly match the bed sheets.
What the hell?
Something small thumped against the palm of her hand.
A soothing warmth washed up from her hand to the rest of her body, instantly relaxing her. She gasped, realization dawning.
She was pregnant. By the looks of it several months along, too. At least in the second trimester, she’d guess.
How long had passed since the confrontation with Manea? What had happened to her since then?
And where was Jasper?
Another wave of assurance washed over her, originating in her belly. Was the baby doing that magic? It would make some sense, she guessed. Being a demigoddess, she’d been born with some abilities, including being a psychic who could communicate with animals. All the other weirder stuff had only recently been discovered and she still had no idea what all she was capable of.
Savannah, one hand never leaving her bulging stomach, tiptoed back over to the mirror. Her eyes rounded in shock. There were more, unsettling changes. For starters, her platinum hair had jet-black roots. She’d always been a natural blonde. What the fuck was this about? Her eyes were still her own, at least, even if there were large bluish bags under them now. But she was much paler than she’d ever been. Of course, she’d lived most of her life outdoors, especially after running away to the rodeo, so her skin was normally a deeper golden tan.
Her gaze shifted down to where her hand rested on her belly.
When did that happen?
She and Jasper hadn’t exactly been thinking of safe sex during their couple times together. But seriously… a baby? Being that Jasper was some sort of angel, who would’ve thought he could father a child?
What if the child isn’t Jasper’s?
That was foolish! Of course, it had to be his. She hadn’t been with anyone else in well over a year—as far as she knew anyway. Considering a child now grew inside of her that she had no clue when that happened… Ugh! Why couldn’t she remember?
A fire crackled in the fireplace at the far side of the room. With goosebumps popping all over her arms and legs, she sprinted over to it, but no warmth flowed from the flames. Odd.
Where the hell am I?
Rubbing her hands together for heat, Savannah’s gaze took in the stark, clinically white but sumptuous room. The canopy bed was the largest she’d ever seen with gauzy material draped over the top to flow down in cascades, creamy white silk sheets, matching duvet, and enough pillows for a family of twenty. The floor was stark white and cold, like stepping onto an ice-skating rink barefoot. The walls—white. The ceiling stretched far above, but also white, with an elaborate candelabra adorned with real candles in lieu of lightbulbs. The other furniture in the room was sparse, but large. And white.
There on a nightstand by the bed was a frosted glass. Had that been there earlier when she awakened? She couldn’t recall.
She race-walked back over to the bed and hopped in before the soles of her feet became hypothermic. The sheets were cool to the touch. Figured! Even as she reached for the glass, praying for water to soothe her parched throat and lips, Savannah questioned if she should drink anything here. What if it was poisoned or a sleeping potion? The last thing she wanted was to fall back asleep. Apparently, she’d been slumbering for quite some time.
The moment the glass was in her hand, thirst won out. She gulped down the icy tasteless liquid, placed the glass back down only to hear the tinkling of more liquid being poured into the frosted goblet by an invisible force.
So, she wasn’t alone?
Nope, not creepy at all.
Part of her wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers, head and all, and cower until Jasper undoubtedly came to rescue her.
The other part—the I-am-not-a-damsel-in-distress part—revolted against such nonsense. She could save herself, thank you very much.
How she planned to do that had not yet revealed itself.
Resisting the urge to pull the covers over her head, Savannah swallowed down the fear creeping up her throat to fill her mouth with a bitter acid taste. If someone, or something, was here with her, perhaps it could be helpful. She decided to test this theory.
“Thank you,” she spoke to the empty room.
No response, only the soft cackle of the fire.
Well, her stomach wasn’t contorting into knots and her eyelids weren’t getting heavier, so it didn’t appear the beverage had been poisoned or doused with drugs. Perhaps it was just water.
Still parched, she reached for the glass again. It had indeed been filled with more crystal-clear water with a few ice chips floating at the surface. Savannah downed the beverage again, this time in not such a hurry to avoid brain-freeze.
Moments passed again while she waited for the inevitable heaviness of sleep to envelope her. When it didn’t, she decided to push her luck to see if the drink was a one-off or if something was in the room with her.
“I don’t suppose you could point out where the bathroom is?”
She’d heard pregnant women had to pee all the time with their little bundles of joy pressing on their bladders. And… they weren’t lying.
A clicking noise drew her attention to the far wall, by the enormous dresser. There was no doorknob, but the wall receded until a light emerged from a rectangular hole.
Savannah suppressed the desire to stay where she was… some odd sense of safety snuggled in the middle of the bed. But necessity won out. She popped off the bed and scurried across the room before fear took back control, sending her into hiding.
She bolted through the open door to find a spacious, ornately decorated on the verge of opulence, bathroom. It was bigger than Mama Wedgefield’s entire RV! Here it was warm like a balmy day on a tropical beach—or at least how she’d always imagined a tropical beach to feel like. Being an orphan hoisted from one bad home situation to another all her life hadn’t given her any opportunity to find out.
Heat emanated through the marble floor causing the warmth to spread quickly up her legs to the rest of her chilled body. The room was lit with thousands of white candles scattered around on every surface, including another candelabra high overhead. Steam wafted off a large oval sunken tub at the far side. To her immediate right was a wall of marble with vases of orchids and fancy gilded faucet handles adorning the lone sink. In the nearest corner was another door, cracked open a couple of inches. Not seeing a toilet anywhere in the vast room, she prayed this led to one because they really weren’t kidding about pregnancy urges. Thankfully, her prayer was answered.
Afterward, Savannah washed her hands at the sink, where a dish of luxurious-smelling jasmine soap appeared that she hadn’t noticed earlier.
The mirror was fogged from the steam coming off the water in the tub. She spun slowly—not wishing to trip over her own feet—to gaze around the room again. The tub not only was steaming but filled with bubbles that trickled over the sides. It enticed her to enjoy its warmth and relaxation. Normally, Savannah wasn’t a tub person. She preferred showers, lava hot water and especially if the water pressure was strong enough to beat away the fatigue in her shoulders that was common being on the road 365 days a year, every year.
But that bath was tempting. And she didn’t see a shower.
She shrugged off the soft nightdress she had woken up in. It puddled at her feet. Stepping free of the material, Savannah tested the bath water with a dip of her big toe. Ah, it was the perfect temperature. She eased her body down until she was neck deep in the jasmine-scented suds. All the tension melted away in an instant. Her eyelids drooped. Was it a sleeping potion finally taking effect or just the relaxing lure of the perfect combination of water temperature and soothing fragrance?
The lights dimmed on their own.
Savannah struggled to keep her eyes open, to not fall back asleep. For one, she’d easily sink under the surface of the water and drown. Second, an urgency to leave, to find Jasper, roared through her blood.
Despite the desire to soak in the tub for eternity, she quickly grabbed a washcloth and a bar of jasmine soap that floated to her across the water in a tiny bamboo boat.
After washing, she ordered her relaxed limbs to stand and to exit the welcoming haven. An over-large, plush towel waited within arm’s reach. An equally luxurious robe hung on the wall. Fuzzy slippers sat underneath the robe. Toweling off, she wrapped herself in the robe and slid her pruned feet into the comfy slippers. Savannah searched for the nightdress only to find it had disappeared.
Well, that’s spooky… and inconvenient.
It was odd she didn’t feel any prickles of fear or foreboding. Ever since she’d been a small child, she’d sensed danger long before it raised its head. Sometimes she’d ignored that niggling at the base of her skull, always to her detriment. But she learned early to pay close attention to it. That it didn’t plague her now should’ve concerned her more than it did. She knew that but shrugged the worry away instead.
Yes, that was odd since she had no clue where she was, she awoke pregnant, and objects and beverages appeared and disappeared all on their own without any apparent door she could see.
Savannah dreaded going back into the bedroom now that she was toasty warm. But she also couldn’t linger in the bathroom all day… or was it night? Hell, she didn’t even know what day it was.
Hey, at least she had warm, fuzzy slippers now to fight the chilly floor.
She stepped back into the bedroom to find it not as cold as it had been earlier. The fire roaring in the fireplace seemed to be doing its job of creating warmth. And there on top of the now made-up bed were a pair of pregnancy jeans, a yellow and black flannel shirt, a pair of socks, and a new pair of high-end hiking boots without a spot of dirt on them. On the nightstand was a pot with steam coming through the spout and a travel mug nestled beside it.
At least she was well cared for in her prison. Now if someone would just bring her a bacon cheeseburger and greasy french fries, she’d be all set.
A tinkling sound caught her attention. She turned to find a silver platter sitting in the middle of the room on a round table with a comfy-looking chair pulled out.
Okay, when did that get here?
Without bothering to dress yet, she waddled over to the table to lift the lid off the platter filled with juicy bacon cheeseburgers and surrounded by thick-cut steak fries.
This is still creepy, but I could get used to this level of service.
Her every wish fulfilled simply by thinking it, but still… a prison.
Before all that had recently happened with that bitch, Manea—mother or not—Savannah would’ve been more distraught over her circumstances. But seeing as she was the reigning champion over Mommy Dearest, who was supposed to have been invincible, she decided going with the flow (and enjoying her meal) wasn’t the worst option open to her. Shrugging, she sat down. She was hungry, the baby needed nutrition too—although technically loaded with protein, she assumed she should start incorporating more vegetables into her diet. It took two hands to hold the burger as greasy cheese dripped out of the buns.
Well, the water didn’t kill me… yet.
Before she could talk sense into herself to not eat what was given, Savannah chomped down on the burger, moaning with delight. Without a doubt, the best she’d ever tasted. She finished it in record time, then devoured every single fry on the platter. She eyed another burger, but the belch that rose from her belly alerted her that she’d had quite enough… for now anyway. After her food settled, she’d wish for a hot fudge sundae covered with Maraschino cherries.
Since when did she like Maraschino cherries?
Better question, since when could she devour a platter of food piled high enough for an entire college football team?
Her eyelids began to droop again. Savannah shuffled over to the bed, her legs too weary to bother with the effort to raise and lower themselves. The silk sheets welcomed her into their depths, and she lost the battle to not close her lids.
When she awoke, the candlelight had dimmed along with the fire while soft strands of classical music played from somewhere. The melody was familiar, but her muddled brain couldn’t place it just yet. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she searched the room for any signs of life. The table and chair were missing, but the pot on the nightstand still steamed alongside the large mug. The clothes that she hadn’t bothered to move when she’d crawled into the bed, were laid out on a mahogany-brown leather chaise lounge… something else that hadn’t been there earlier. At least, it was the first sign of color in the room’s style.
She poured a mug of the warm fragrant tea, then dressed. It felt silly to strap on the boots if she was stuck in the room, but she did it anyway. After a restful sleep, a full belly, and the invigorating beverage, Savannah’s patience was at its limit. She paced the room, sipped the tea, then paced some more. A nervous energy invaded her limbs.
It was time to rescue herself. If she could wish for a bathroom, a meal, and clothes… perhaps she could wish herself out of here.
Closing her eyes, she wished as hard as she’d ever wished before. More than she’d wished for Jasper to kiss her that first time, more than anything.
A tiny squeak from the direction of the massive fireplace had her eyelids flying open. There, just a few inches from the left side of the mantel, almost hidden behind a planter with a single orchid in bloom, was an opening just large enough for her to squeeze through with her newly rounded belly.
Ask and ye shall receive, I guess.
Without allowing a moment to talk herself out of it, she stepped through the hole. The wall closed behind her leaving her in the dark with no way to return. Too late she realized, I gotta pee.