I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, wait. That. . that dream with Murphy? That was you?”
“All the dreams are me, blockhead,” my double said. “And I swear, dude, you have got to be the most repressed human being on the face of the planet.”
“What? Maybe you didn’t notice, but I’m not exactly bending over backwards for anybody?”
“Not oppressed, moron. Repressed. As in sexually. What is wrong with you?”
I blinked, offended. “What?”
“You were doing okay with Susan,” he said. “And Anastasia. . Wow, there’s really something to be said for experience.”
I felt myself blushing and reminded myself that I was talking to me. “So?”
“And what about all the things you missed, dummy?” he asked. “You had the shadow of a freaking angel who could have shown you any sensual experience you could possibly have imagined, but did you take her up on it? No. Mab’s been throwing girls at you. You could literally make one phone call and have half a dozen supernaturally hot Sidhe girls playing rodeo with you anytime you wanted, and instead you’re playing hopscotch over the cages of has-been demons. Hell, Hannah Ascher would have gotten busy with you if you wanted.”
“It’s Parkour,” I said defensively. “And just because I don’t go to bed with everything with a vagina doesn’t mean I’m repressed. I don’t want it to be just sex.”
“Why not?” my double said, exasperated. “Go forth and freaking multiply! Drink from the cup of life! Carpe femme! For the love of God, get laid.”
I sighed. Right. Id me didn’t have to be concerned with long-term consequences. He was my instinctive, primitive self, driven by my most primal impulses. I wondered, briefly, if id and idiot came from the same root.
“You wouldn’t get it,” I said. “It’s got to be more than just physical attraction. There’s got to be respect and affection.”
“Sure,” he said, his tone absolutely acidic. “Then how come you haven’t banged Murphy yet?”
“Because,” I said, growing flustered, “we aren’t. . We haven’t gotten to. . There’s been a lot of. . Look, fuck off.”
“Hah,” my double said. “You’re obviously terrified of getting close to someone. Afraid you’ll get hurt and rejected. Again.”
“No I’m not,” I said.
“Oh, please,” he said. “I’ve got a direct line to your hindbrain. I’ve got your fears on Blu-Ray.” He rolled his eyes. “Like she isn’t feeling exactly the same thing?”
“Murphy isn’t afraid of anything,” I said.
“Two ex-husbands, and the last one married her little sister. He might as well have sent her a card that said, ‘I’d like you, only you’re too successful. And old.’ And you’re a freaking wizard who is going to live for centuries. Of course she’s freaking out about the idea of getting involved with you.”
I frowned at that. “I. . You really think so?”
“No, dolt. You really think so.”
I snorted. “Okay, guy, if you’re so smart. What do I do?”
“If having something real is so important to you, man up and go get her,” my id said. “You could both be dead tomorrow. You’re heading for the realm of freaking death, for crying out loud. What the hell are you waiting for?”
“Uh,” I said.
“Let me answer that for you,” he said. “Molly.”
I blinked. “Uh, no. Molly’s a freaking kid.”
“She was a freaking kid,” my double said. “She’s heading for her late twenties, in case you forgot how to count. She’s not all that much younger than you, and the proportional distance is only shrinking. And you like her, and you trust her, and the two of you have a ton in common. Go get laid there.”
“Dude, no,” I said. “That is not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“It would be a serious violation of trust.”
“Because she’s your apprentice?” he asked. “No, she isn’t. Not anymore. Hell’s bells, man, she’s practically your boss when you get right down to it. At the very least, she got promoted past you.”
“I am not having this conversation,” I said.
“Repression and denial,” my double said acerbically. “Get thee to a therapist.”
The figure next to him made a soft sound.
“Right,” the double said. “We don’t have much time. Murphy’s pulling the nail out.”
“Time for what?” I asked. “And who is that?”
“Seriously?” he asked. “You aren’t going to use your intuition even a little, huh?”
I scowled at him and at the other figure and then my eyes widened. “Wait. . Is that. . is that the parasite?”
The shrouded figure shuddered and let out a pained groan.
“No,” my double said. “It’s the being that Mab and that stupid Alfred have been calling a parasite.”
I blinked several times. “What?”
“Look, man,” my double said. “You’ve got to work this out. Think, okay. I can’t just talk to you. This near-dream stuff is my best, but you’ve got to meet me halfway.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Wait. You’re saying that the parasite isn’t actually a parasite. But that means. .”
“The wheel is turning,” my double said, in the tone of a reporter covering a sports event. “The fat, lazy old hamster looks like he’s almost forgotten how to make it go, but he’s sort of moving it now. Bits of rust are falling off. The cobwebs are slowly parting.”
“Screw you,” I said, annoyed. “It’s not like you’ve showed up with a ton to say ever since. .” I trailed off and fell entirely silent for a long moment.
“Ah,” he said, and pointed a finger at me, bouncing up onto his toes. “Ah hah! Ah hah, hah, hah, the light begins to dawn!”
“Ever since I touched Lasciel’s Coin,” I breathed quietly.
“Follow that,” my double urged me. “What happened next?”
“Touching the Coin put an imprint of Lasciel in my head,” I said. “Like a footprint in clay, the same shape as the original. She tried to tempt me into accepting the true Lasciel into my head along with her, but I turned her down.”
My double rolled his wrist in a “keep it moving” gesture. “And then?”
“And then the imprint started to change,” I said. “Lasciel was immutable, but the imprint was made of me. A shape in the clay. As the clay changed, so did the imprint.”
“And?”
“And I gave her a name,” I said. “I called her Lash. She became an independent psychic entity in her own right. And we kind of got along until. .” I swallowed. “Until there was a psychic attack. A bad one. She threw herself in the way of it. It destroyed her.”
“Yeah,” my double said quietly. “But. . look, what she did was an act of love. And you were about as intimate with her as it gets, sharing the same mental space. I mean, it’s funny, you get twitchy when you start considering living with a woman, but having one literally inside your head was not an issue.”
“What do you mean?”
“Christ, you’re supposed to be the intellect here,” my double said. “Think.” He stared at me for a long moment, visibly willing me to understand.
My stomach fell into some unimaginable abyss at the same time my jaw dropped open. “No,” I said. “That isn’t. . that’s not possible.”
“When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much,” my double said, as if speaking to a small child, “and they live together and hug and kiss and get intimate with each other. .”
“I’m. .” I felt a little ill. “You’re saying. . I’m pregnant?”
My double threw up his arms. “Finally, he gets it.”
In years and years and years of experience as a wizard, I’d dealt with concepts, formulae, and mental models that ranged from bizarre to downright insanity-inducing. None of them had, in any way whatsoever, ever prepared my head to wrap around this. At all. Ever. “How is that. . That isn’t even. . What the hell, man?” I demanded.