by Kim Schubert
I nodded, reluctant. “I had wanted to give them a little more time off.”
Logan’s heavy hand rested on my shoulder, pulling me close. I tucked into his warmth, breathing in his reassuring scent. “They want to help.”
“I’ll call once we get done with the vampires.”
Grant pushed open a set of white doors into their office.
I sat behind his desk, the black chair still warm. Picking up the black phone, he hit a button before handing it to me.
“Olivia,” I said into the receiver.
“Olivia, how wonderful of you to take my call. Please accept my deepest sympathies on such a tragic day.”
I grunted, annoyed.
The silence stretched out. If he was expecting a thank you for calling on such a shitty day, he was barking up the wrong tree.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“The High Council would like an audience.”
“When and where?” I clipped out.
“We will send a vehicle for you.”
“That’s not how this—” The line went dead. “Mother fuckers,” I hissed, looking at the receiver before slamming it back into the cradle.
I glared at Grant, and he stepped back. “Let security know, not one single vampire is allowed past the gate.”
“What about Mal?” Logan asked.
“Not even Mal. These fuckers aren’t playing anymore and I don’t trust them.”
Logan huffed, “The rogue army of Zachariah alone was evidence of that.”
I turned my pointed glare at him and he raised an eyebrow. “Let’s assume the Vamp Council knew about it. The question is: Are they here to do damage control or finish what Zachariah couldn’t?”
Logan growled, “They would be fools to attempt anything.”
“We are weak. I’m recovering from gunshot wounds, my father from magical crap, and our morale is low with the death of Grams. If I was going to take over the Supernatural Council, I couldn’t imagine a better time.”
Logan growled, having nothing to counter my points with.
I stood, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. “Let’s focus on what we can control.”
I dialed Jerry.
“Hey Olie, everything okay?” he answered, sleep lacing his voice heavily.
“Hey Jerry, I’m sorry to bother you, but I need some help.”
“Yeah, anything.”
“Do you know of a tailor who can make Doyle clothing, and do you want to take my dad shopping?”
This was such a small issue. I shouldn’t be bothering him with it.
“Yeah, shopping is just what I need. I’ll make a few calls on Doyle.”
“Perfect. Let me know what you find.” I was about to end the call but changed my mind. “Oh and Jerry, be careful of the vampires. The High Council is coming into town.”
Jerry grunted, “Got it.”
I stowed my phone in my back pocket again, turning to look at Logan. “Do you have Raphael’s number?”
He nodded, pulling out his own phone. Grant continued to watch us in his office. It had to be awkward for him. I didn’t care.
I listened to the ringing, staring at Logan’s phone on speaker. My anger was spiking the longer we went without a response. Eventually, his voicemail picked up and Logan left a message, which was more than I would have done.
“Give him the benefit of the doubt. He did assist us with the rogues,” Logan advised, feeling my short temper.
“It’s all too fucking perfect, Logan. We granted him permission to set up a secondary House here. Not to mention all the new vampires we added to his damn line. We set him up as a powerhouse and now the fucking High Council is coming in.”
“We don’t know that,” Logan tried again.
“I do know I’ll kill the fucker if it turns out to be true. It’s my damn turn to kill the asshole Master Vampires.”
Logan grunted, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Okay, so I was a little sore about him killing both Tate and Zachariah. They might not have been the ones who shot me, but Zachariah did quite a number slicing and dicing on my unresponsive body.
“Has your father made any advances in freeing your power?” Logan asked.
I shook my head. “He needs the books back in the red world, but neither of us is strong enough for the trip.”
Logan nodded. A boost of power certainly wouldn’t have harmed anything at that point.
“We have other issues.”
Logan and I turned as a unit to Grant.
“The human government is trying to re-form. They’ve been having issues since the lieutenant governor was also killed in the rogue attacks. They have been trying to agree on who takes over next. I believe they have agreed on a senator moving into the position temporarily until an emergency election can be held.”
I waited. “And what does that have to do with us?”
Grant gave me a pained expression, but it was Logan who answered. “Grams was heavily involved with the human government. It would behoove us to be as well.”
“Why?” I demanded.
He gave me an annoyed look. “Because unlike you, who have remained in the metaphorical closet, shifters have not. We need them to approve us as citizens with full rights.”
“Oh, that hasn’t been resolved yet?” He was right. I wasn’t paying any damn attention.
“It has not.”
“Great. So how do we get an invite to that mess?”
“We’ve been invited to a fundraiser for those injured in the rogue attacks. Senator Vargas will be there.”
“I guess I need Jerry to go shopping for me as well,” I grunted.
“When is this fundraiser?” Logan asked.
“Tomorrow night. Ali and I were going to attend, but…” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes when they teared up.
“You’ve been under a lot of pressure keeping everything running, Grant. We can handle it from here,” I told him, feeling the sheer anxiety vibrating around him.
He nodded, blowing out a breath. “I just—I always thought she would come back, you know?”
“I know.” I would be lying if I said that back in the far reaches of my heart I hadn’t expected some sort of reconciliation with Grams. Her sudden death stole that from me. It was another reason I wanted to kill Zachariah.
There was nothing to be done about it now.
“Send the info to Logan’s email. We will take care of it.”
Grant nodded, drawing a breath, unable to look at us. Logan turned and I followed him out, closing the door softly behind us. Even with my subpar hearing compared to Logan’s, I could hear Grant’s sobbing. I couldn’t fix it, not any of it, and I think that’s what stung the worst.
There was no one to fight against. No mystery to unravel and fix, no wrong to right. Grams was dead and buried. So I was going to do what I usually did when my emotions were too much for me to handle, stay too damn busy to notice. Oh, and drink.
“No,” Logan said.
I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Whatever you are thinking that has you feeling so reckless, the answer is no, and stop blocking me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I didn’t ask for permission, and I’m not trying to.”
Logan sighed, turning to me before opening the door to our room.
“Can you just hold tight for now? Give us a few days of normalcy?”
“We don’t have normal, Logan.”
He rubbed his forehead. “You want to run.”
He looked at me for denial. I wasn’t going to lie to him. I set my chin.
“I won’t stop you.”
“You can’t stop me.”
He sat down heavily on the bed. “Stop it, Olie. I just got you back, don’t put your guards up with me.”
He held his arms out and I debated. Did I walk into them and fall apart into the million dejected pieces I was composed of? Or did I walk out and refuse to give in to my weakness?
“Alright, I’ll stay put.”
“Thank you.”
“But not because you asked, because there is shit else going on.”
Logan laughed, pulling me into his warm embrace. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Chapter 2
It was an uneventful night. I didn’t sleep much in bed, if at all. I ended up watching TV downstairs, in the company of Ginny’s baby monitor and a huge bag of chips.
Around four in the morning Tommy sat down next to the chips. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to.
…
At some point I drifted off, waking up with Tommy’s dark head on my shoulder. I blinked, looking at the early morning light filtering through the plantation shutters. A noise on the baby monitor had me carefully extracting myself from under Tommy. He settled on the couch without complaint.
Picking up the monitor, I saw Ginny sitting there, staring at the screen and waiting. I turned it off and set it back down on the end table before dragging myself up the stairs.
“Hey princess,” I greeted her, softly opening her door. She instantly started babbling and pulling herself up on her crib.
Yawning widely, I picked her up, happy to cuddle her soft form against my chest for a few moments. I rocked her gently, her little arms pulled underneath her, her soft cheek resting against my chest.
Heaving a contented sigh, I looked down at her. “You smell.”
She giggled.
…
Sitting the now cleaned and changed Ginny in her highchair, I knew Logan was up. Feeling me awake had probably roused him out of whatever crap sleep he was able to get.
Tommy oozed from sleeping on the couch to being wrapped in a throw at the farm table with his head down.
“Go to sleep,” I told him.
“Don’t wanna,” he slurred.
“Whatever, you’re big enough to make those decisions.” He grunted his agreement, well I assume it was agreement.
Logan padded down the stairs, barefoot in black track pants and a white shirt. He rubbed at his eyes and I felt his exhaustion along the mate bond. With a sigh I turned back to the fridge, taking out sweet potatoes for Ginny.
“Hungry?” Logan grunted at me, pulling out eggs, butter, and cheese from the fridge.
I nodded, slipping to the microwave to warm up Ginny’s food.
Logan worked silently at the stove and I smelled French toast as well, my favorite. I smiled at his back while trying to coax another bite into Ginny.
“Come on, missy girl, open big!” I said to her.
She slammed her hands on her white tray. “Mama!” her tiny voice yelled.
I froze, spoon held aloft. I wasn’t her mother. Was she asking for Lorraine? Did she know the difference?
Logan leaned down, kissing her cheek. “Is that mama?” he asked, pointing at me.
“I’m not her mother,” I told him. I regretted the words instantly, seeing the hurt in his eyes.
Tommy lifted his head up. “Olie, you feed her, take care of her, and change her dirty diapers. You’re not biologically her mother, but in every other sense, you fulfill the role.”
“Yeah, but I’m not her mother.”
“Yes, you are,” Logan said softly.
I turned at him, my emotional state highly unstable.
“What’s a mother, Olie? Mine left me to suffer and die. Family is more than blood. You taught me that,” Tommy continued on.
I nodded, understanding his point, but still uncomfortable with it.
“You made sure she lived, not once, but twice. You stopped Lorraine from poisoning her in the womb. You made the deal with Mal to heal her preemie body. I’ve felt the love you hold for her, Olivia. Why does her thinking you are her mother terrify you so?”
I wasn’t good enough to be her mom. She was too perfect, too precious. She needed someone who could teach her how to love, how to be normal, and how not to be a raving psycho with a penchant for killing. All character traits I’ve never had.
How did I put that into words?
“Okay, I get it,” Logan said softly, feeling my turbulent emotions along the mate bond. He leaned down, kissing my cheek before setting a plate of food in front of me.
“Mama!” Ginny demanded again.
I turned to her, blowing out a terrified breath before giving her another bite of sweet potatoes.
Logan set down a plate of food in front of Tommy, who looked up from his sitting position and grunted.
“Eat. If you are going to be a tired mess all day, at least be a fed mess,” Logan commanded.
I laughed while Tommy glared at Logan’s retreating back. He did take a bite, though. Not many defied the leader of the shifters.
Logan brought two plates loaded down with sausage, eggs, and his own French toast back to the table. I dropped a scrambled egg onto Ginny’s tray. It immediately disappeared.
“She needs her veggies,” Logan corrected me.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Right, because we are so great about consuming them.” I looked pointedly at his plate before meeting his gaze.
“I will feed you spinach for breakfast,” he threatened.
I laughed, “Just be glad it wasn’t a donut, and that’s just rude.”
“Did you let Jerry know about needing a dress for tonight?” Logan asked.
I nodded. “Do you need clothing?” I asked him.
“No, I have a few outfits remaining from my before-Olivia collection.”
“Before Olivia? What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy questioned.
“Before I had to shift or fight at every formal event we ever attend, hence ruining my clothing.”
“Hey—” I was about to dispute the fact that I got into a fight at EVERY formal occasion, but I was having a hard time coming up with one where I hadn’t.
Tommy must have picked up on that as he took his plate to the sink, laughing.
“Whatever, life has never been so interesting,” I countered.
“That is also true,” Tommy agreed, his eyes laughing. “That is also true.”
“What’s on the agenda until Jerry gets here?” Logan asked.
I shrugged, tossing Ginny more egg. “TV?” I suggested.
Logan nodded, taking his plates to the sink. “I can’t say we’ve ever just hung out and watched TV.”
…
Jerry arrived during a marathon binge on a crime show drama. Ginny was busy exploring what all the buttons of Tommy’s laptop did. He had set her up with some baby program so she wouldn’t break anything. At least, I hoped she didn’t. I would end up paying for it.
I was tucked under Logan’s arm, resting my eyes. I wasn’t sleeping.
“Go see The Magician and Doyle first,” Logan muttered.
“I’m awake,” I slurred, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.
“Easy, baby girl, I already have your outfit ready. Let me go set up with the other two,” Jerry said, an Asian woman trailing behind him.
I nodded, falling back into Logan’s embrace.
It felt like only a few minutes before Logan’s phone alarm was going off.
“What’s that?” I slurred.
“Time to get ready,” he answered.
I opened my eyes with a groan. “Jerry finish up?”
“He’s taking your father shopping now.”
I nodded, padding upstairs. “Where’s Ginny?” I asked.
“Napping.”
I pushed open the door to our room and padded to the shower. Logan followed behind me. “How much time do we have?”
“An hour,” he answered, closing the door before heading to the closet. I wrapped my arms around him from behind. We had been celibate for too long. My body was healed, and my heart needed a hot and steamy distraction.
Logan turned in my embrace, his fingers gently trailing over my cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Olivia.”
“We do. I’m a soul-s
ucking succubus, remember?” I teased.
Logan laughed. I pushed away all the grief surrounding my heart, the guilt and uncertainty. I just wanted him and his love. I pushed up on my toes, my palms resting against his warm chest. Logan dropped his lips to my own, tentative at first.
I exhaled a contented sound, feeling him pressed against me, finding his mouth warm and welcoming. His strong hands cupped my face, controlling the kiss with expert delicateness. A low growl issued from the back of this throat, his raw need flooding the mate bond.
My head tilted up, his thumbs running along my jaw line. Like a dam bursting, our pent-up desire flooded us both. His lips took advantage of the soft flesh of my neck, his greedy mouth biting down hard on my smaller mate mark. I bucked against him, heat and desire flooding my body. I growled as well, before pushing him back into our room and onto the bed.
…
I watched Jerry examining my wet hair in the bathroom mirror. “What are you thinking tonight?” he asked me, the question followed by laughter.
“Yeah, I have no idea why you asked me that, either,” I confessed. Jerry had picked out a beautiful and classy navy blue dress with a wide V-neck and short cap sleeves. The natural waist fit perfectly and the extra bounce from the petticoat gave it a fun flair that contradicted my usual scowl.
“I still don’t understand your hair color,” Jerry muttered as he finished massaging product into my strawberry blond locks.
“I know, ever since I woke up it’s been back to its natural color, no roots or anything,” I answered him, looking at my reflection in the mirror and trying not to think about how similar my hair was to my mother’s.
“We can change it,” Jerry offered, picking up on my distress at realizing that I’d always kept this color hidden under layers of dyes.
“I know.” I just wasn’t sure I wanted to. It was also a reminder that I had a family. I wasn’t lab created after all, and that gave me something primal back.
Jerry had matched Logan’s suit perfectly to my dress. Logan stood in the pants and crisp white shirt, shoving a forkful of something in his mouth.
“What are you eating?” I asked, inhaling the scent of soy and spices.
“Chicken teriyaki with noodles,” he answered, slurping a bite.
I scowled at him.
