The first sign was a sudden craving for the sour bite of crisp, unripe mangoes with salty, garlicky, fermented shrimp paste—
manggang hilaw at bagoong
—in the wee hours. The next was the sudden simmer of bile in Jinx's gut, a rising gorge akin to a volcano releasing magma to the surface through a vent with pyroclastic intensity.
It was all the diwata could do to hold the burning rising up her esophagus in until she got to the bathroom of Cocoy's apartment so she could hurl out the
taho
that had been such sexy fun just a few hours ago.
Kidlat had heard their diwata's distress through the open bathroom door and peeked in.
"What else did you eat besides the
taho
and the
merienda
at Mom's?" The tikbalang knelt beside Jinx and gently took her now-long locks in one big hand to pull them away from the porcelain throne into which she was making overly intimate confessions, literally from her gut.
"
Tamod
. From a tikbalang and a bayot." Jinx's wry answer echoed between momentarily dry heaves from inside the white bowl before she resumed tossing her
taho
into it.
I can't believe that something that has been so much fun thus far could create such smelly side-effects.
The smell of bile mixed with the sickly sweetness of regurgitated
maja blanca
and
taho
as another heave deposited a literally steaming pile of the stuff into the water of the bowl. Water that sizzled and evaporated. Jinx hit the flush handle just as the acidic steam rose up.
The fresh water rushing into the bowl caught her next heave-ho, and it cooled some of the projectile vomit enough to throw small black pebbles to surface before they sank to the porcelain bottom with muffled little clinks.
"What on earth is wrong with you, anyway? You were just fine earlier..."
"She's pregnant." Cocoy's voice drifted over Jinx and Kidlat from the open door. "Fucking several times a day will do that to a female, especially since we didn't always use condoms, dude."
Cocoy took a metal bucket from the cabinet under the sink and half-filled it with water. Then he tapped Kidlat on the shoulder and took hold of Jinx's thick curtain of black hair, cocking his head to the side in a silent command to Kidlat that he'd take over.
The bayot steered Jinx's head to the bucket with care. He was pretty sure he could feel more than one heartbeat under the pads of the fingers he'd placed on her neck: One strong, steady beat that belonged to their diwata and a softer, faster one—maybe two.
"Throw up here, love," he said quietly as Kidlat moved aside so Jinx could switch confessionals. "Rub her back, Kid. That should help."
"Pregnant? Don't diwatas just, I don't know, come into being? In mountains?" The tikbalang sounded as confused as Cocoy felt. All he knew of diwata biology, so far, was how hot these women were—literally and figuratively.
I should have paid more attention to the things outside our fighting and fucking, stupid tikbalang that I am.
Kidlat's big hands felt so good to Jinx. So did Cocoy holding her hair and steadying her chin so it didn't hit the bucket's lip.
Now, if only this Exorcist audition would stop...
"I don't have any explanations for this, either, Kidlat," Cocoy said while Jinx heaved into the bucket again, raising another puff of acrid steam. "But I do know no kid of ours is going to be left at the foot of any damn mountain."
"Presuming she is pregnant, hell, no, we're not leaving any kid of ours to the elements—even if his mom is a diwata." Kidlat felt as militantly protective of their still-unconfirmed progeny as Cocoy was. "But what does one do with a pregnant diwata? What kind of prenatal care does she need?"
What the ever-lovin' fuck? Pregnant?
Jinx would have spat those words out if she weren't so occupied with ejecting breakfast.
Do diwatas even get pregnant? And if I'm pregnant I sure as HELL am keeping the kid. This baby, if it exists, will have a goddamn family that won't up and leave. That changeling shit is so panahon pa ng Katipunan.
"I have NO idea." Cocoy shook his head at the tikbalang. "Let's just get past this vomiting, because the liquid in the bucket is starting to simmer and we're going to need to do something about this unless we want to see how superheated fluid can smelt metal."
Since neither of them is thinking straight, that's my job, I guess. Haynaku.
"Oh, Gods of War." Kidlat dumped the contents of the hot bucket into the tub and managed to refill it using the handheld showerhead in time to cool the next wave of Jinx's projectile bile.
"Mrphrghlh—aaaaack! Haaaaaaack!"
Morning sickness shouldn't happen at lunchtime
, Jinx thought in an attempt to ease the stress of the situation. Not that it helped.
***
Cocoy went to answer the door. Again. It was as if an unending stream of diwatas was constantly walking through his apartment—which wasn't small by any measure since the North Syquia Apartments building was one of the old apartelles and boasted of plenty of floor area.
However, the sheer number of beings walking about his space was disconcerting. Sinukuan, whose deep physical scars were fading, was seated on Cocoy's plush sofa-bed, fussing over Jinx as if she were Jinx's mom. Some other diwatas were touching Jinx's still-flat belly in wonderment and asking pregnancy-related questions like "you had morning sickness? What was that like? What do you mean it doesn't just happen in the morning?"
Kidlat was in one corner of the living room, listening intently to Adora and Makiling, who were talking pretty much simultaneously. Cocoy was circulating about the room, offering to fetch drinks or food for their influx of guests.
From what the bayot could piece together of the bits of conversations he'd picked up, diwatas didn't do pregnant. They'd never done pregnant—until Jinx, of course. They were also arguing quietly with her when she'd said she wasn't going to do the changeling thing with the baby.
"We're going to raise the baby as a family," Kidlat said firmly, ending that argument. "No one else gets responsibility for our child. That's a Batumbakal kid and we don't do fostering."
Cocoy had emerged from the kitchen with yet another tray of
