by T. M. Cromer
She tried to shift away, but he caught her around the waist.
“I think about him too, GiGi.”
“It was a long time ago, Ryker.”
He drew her closer, urging her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder. “I think about him, too,” he repeated. A soft sob escaped her, and he tightened his arms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. More sorry than you’ll ever know.”
Hot tears ran down his neck and soaked the collar of his shirt. He allowed his own grief to flow in conjunction with his wife’s.
They’d never had a chance to mourn the loss of their stillborn son together. It had coincided with his mission regarding Marguerite Champeau. By the time Ryker had recovered from his gunshot wound and returned home, GiGi had buried their son.
He half suspected her continuing rage had more to do with the loss and his absence than with his alleged affair. Since his wife refused to speak of either, he’d had no way to bridge the distance she’d created between them.
* * *
GiGi hadn’t spoken of the stillbirth to anyone. Not her brothers, not her nieces, not Ryker. It was as if, when she placed her son in the family crypt, she had sealed it all away. Now, sitting here within the circle of Ryker’s arms, the memories sprung free and overwhelmed her, nearly suffocating in their intensity.
“I understand things happen, and just because we’re considered Isis’s beloved ones, life isn’t going to be without its trials, but I’ll never understand why the Goddess cursed us with his loss.” She finally voiced the one constant, plaguing thought she’d had all these years.
His warm embrace offered her solace and maybe even a smidgeon of his strength. This was what she’d missed after the death of her baby. The gentle understanding. The shared pain. The unconditional love.
“I’m sorry we never tried again,” he said. “I would have liked to have a houseful of children.”
“Do you blame me?” She pushed the question past her dry throat.
Drawing back slightly, Ryker tilted her chin up with a knuckle. She could feel his stare but had a hard time meeting his gaze. When she worked up the courage, the standard adoration was back in addition to a kinder, softer emotion—compassion.
“What do you think, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t. I took too many risks, trailing you halfway around the world after you asked me not to.”
She felt his heavy sigh as she waited for him to respond
“Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t blame me, but I never once thought it was anything other than ill-luck or the Goddess’s will.” He shrugged. “You would’ve been an amazing mother, and I find it difficult to believe you would’ve done anything to jeopardize our unborn child.”
The tightness eased in her chest, and all the self-hate she’d experienced until now left with the whoosh of her relieved exhale. “Thank you.”
She snuggled close and placed a soft kiss along his jawline. “For the record, I think you would have been a great dad.”
“You’re damned tootin’.”
Laughter bubbled up. GiGi was surprised she could find amusement so closely on the heels of her remembered grief. They sat in silence, listening to the crickets sing their nightly song.
“I sometimes miss what I don’t have,” she confessed. “I see other women, other families, dedicated to one another. Mothers snuggling their toddlers close after a tumble make my heart hurt for what can never be.”
“You’re not too old if you want to try again.”
She snorted. “It’s ridiculous to have a child at our age.”
“No, it might be crazy for a non-magical human without your genetics, but you are essentially like a thirty-nine-year-old woman, GiGi. Any child of ours would be a late-in-life baby, but he or she would be loved all the more for it.”
She didn’t dare dream that she could have the family she’d always wanted. It felt like pushing fate. And yet, a small kernel of hope popped up. More importantly, she favored the idea of making that baby with her husband after years of a sexual drought.
“Let’s get through one dramatic event at a time,” she suggested. “When we have slain our enemies and we are settled in our home again, we can discuss the baby-making process.”
His hand found its way back under her shirt to cup her breast. “We should probably at least practice the baby-making process.”
“Absolutely.”
“I think my estranged wife just agreed to make all my fondest wishes come true. If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me, okay?”
A happy giggle escaped. “Promise.”
9
Ryker rose and drew GiGi to her feet. Hand in hand, they walked toward the mahogany doors of Thorne Manor. As he reached for the knob, the door swung open to reveal Alastair.
Ryker shook his head. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. My wife and I were about to reconcile our differences.”
She smiled quizzically. “I thought we had.”
“Your brother doesn’t need to know that. I was hoping to buy us time.”
His best friend shot him a dry look and smiled down at GiGi. “It’s past time for the two of you to be happy, but we have to discuss what happened today. No one is safe until the threat is neutralized.”
Ryker grimaced in response to the truth of Alastair’s observations.
GiGi was less pleased.
“Can’t it wait until morning, brother? We could both use some rest.”
“If I thought you were going to your room to sleep, I might’ve waited to bring this up. But I have a sneaking suspicion you have other entertaining pursuits in mind.” Alastair’s knowing smile deepened to a wide, toothy grin.
Ryker never wanted to deck him more.
“I seriously hate you right now.” He sighed his disappointment. “I mean, I didn’t think I could hate you more than I did last night or this morning for your trick, but this is hitting below the belt.”
A bark of laughter escaped Alastair. He moved out of the way to allow them entry, then led the way to the living room, where all the family present sat beaming their pleasure.
Summer jumped up and hugged her aunt. “I’m so happy for you both. I knew, given enough time together, you’d settle your differences.”
“It only took locking us in together and stripping us of our clothing, not to mention not answering when we called. At least, you didn’t have to resort to drugging us,” Ryker said with a glare at Alastair. The heavy sarcasm in his tone didn’t go unnoticed, and all around the faces reflected chagrin, except for his best friend. That bastard was too smug for words.
“I tried to tell them. Not everyone likes to be manipulated based on a whim.” Winnie’s husband, Zane Carlyle, cast his wife a stern look. Having fallen victim to mental machinations by GiGi and Winnie, when the latter decided to wipe clean the memory of their relationship from poor Zane’s mind, the guy was still a bit salty about the spell the two women had cast upon him.
A wicked light flared in the chocolate depths of Zane’s eyes when he glanced at GiGi. His teasing smile was firmly in place when he said, “I guess turnabout is fair play, Ms. GiGi.”
Ryker laughed when his wife narrowed her eyes on the young man.
“Okay, spill, Al. What was so all-fired important that we couldn’t go to bed?” Ryker asked.
“We captured one of the soldiers.”
Everyone swiveled to face Alastair, mouths agape.
Ryker recovered first. “Where is he?”
“Tied up in a warehouse outside of town.” Alastair shrugged. “I didn’t want to bring him back here and risk our location becoming known if he had a tracker. Not that I’m sure it matters. Our enemies came close enough by finding you.”
“I still can’t understand how.” Ryker shook his head. “The only things I bring back and forth are my files, and I…” He stopped speaking and glanced around. “My briefcase, GiGi… did you leave it in the ‘Vette?”
“Yes.”
He
all-out ran for the door with Alastair, GiGi, and Zane on his heels. In the distance, they saw the headlights of vehicles. Without ceremony, he conjured a flaming energy ball and firebombed his beloved car.
“Quickly, you need to reinforce the wards,” he shouted. “Alastair, get your security team back here, STAT. Zane, come with me.” He ran for Summer’s old, abandoned animal barn and started tossing hay bales, revealing a line of metal military crates. “There’s more there.” He nodded with his chin toward a nearby stall. “See that every family member gets a gun then get your wife into the tunnels below the house.”
Zane halted his forward movement to stare. “What tunnels, and how do we access them?”
“Jesus! I can’t believe Preston and Alastair never told anyone… never mind. Just grab a crate and go! We don’t have much time before they arrive.”
The younger man stacked two of the containers and waved a hand to lighten the load. He hustled away and was back in seconds for another load. Ryker stacked the crates in Zane’s arms and told him not to return to the barn.
From various vantage points, Ryker set up high-powered, long-range rifles. He intended to be the first line of defense in the event the wards disguising the property failed. To the standard eye, the house and surrounding buildings didn’t exist. Unless invited to the estate, all a normal individual could see was dense forest. It would take a powerful witch or warlock, perhaps multiple of both, to break the mirage encasing the place. Not that it couldn’t be done, but one had to know the exact location of Thorne Manor to breach the old girl’s walls.
“Ryker.”
He spun, gun at the ready. When he saw his visitor was GiGi, Ryker lowered his weapon. “Dammit, woman! I could’ve shot you!”
She shrugged and squatted by the chest of weapons. “Could’ve but wouldn’t have. You’re too good to make a mistake.”
Her words soothed the savage beast within him. Although his first instinct was to rage at her for coming here, he was happy she chose to fight by his side.
“What’s the plan?”
GiGi looked so eager to help, denying her was beyond his capability. With a resigned shake of his head, he began handing her weapons. “I’m assuming you showed Zane and the girls the location of the tunnels?” At her nod, he continued, “Do you know how to load a military rifle?”
“Yes. My brothers and father made sure I knew how to defend myself during the war.”
“Good. How’s your aim?”
“I can hit what I’m aiming at.”
“Okay, then I want you up high. I’ve set rifles in the openings above. Shoot two rounds and move to the next.” He produced a piece of paper. “If there are no Blockers present, you can utilize this spell to reload for you. If they are present, you’ll need to reload yourself. Never stay in the same spot longer than ten seconds, and don’t let anyone see where the shots are coming from. Cloak yourself and pray to the Goddess it works.”
“Got it.” She gripped his face between her palms. “Be safe,” she ordered him. Bringing his head down to hers, she kissed him. A mere clinging of the lips, but it was enough to tell him she’d forgiven him for the past. “I love you, Ryker.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. Now get that fine ass up the ladder to the loft and watch my back if anyone comes through those doors.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!”
“This is more of a military op, GiGi, not a ship.”
She simply grinned and patted his cheek. “It is what I say it is, babe.”
He lightly swatted her backside as she turned away.
“No foreplay,” she scolded before she ruined it with a wink. “That’s for later.”
He couldn’t contain his laugh as she teleported to the loft. His GiGi was one helluva woman. Shoving a handgun into the waistband of his cargo pants, Ryker then grabbed a rifle in each hand and ran for the northernmost window.
A pulse of magic, strong enough to rock the building, rode the airwaves.
“What the hell was that?” he shouted to GiGi.
She peered over the side of the loft. “If I had to guess, Alastair’s reinforcement of the wards.”
“Second guess?”
“I don’t have one.”
“I’m going to teleport a com unit to the house. Stay hidden, sweetheart.”
She nodded and disappeared back into the loft area above. The one great thing about his wife was when she understood the risks, she didn’t seek trouble. Not that she wouldn’t delve into the action when she saw fit, but she rarely thought to place herself in danger. Perhaps it was witnessing the results of the witches’ war years ago. Maybe it was a sense of self-preservation. Either way, Ryker was thrilled she knew when to take precautions.
He grabbed a handful of communication devices from the weapons chest, threw a few bales of hay around it to camouflage the crate, and teleported to the main house. He found Alastair and a few of his security team members in a deep discussion.
“I wasn’t sure what you had by way of coms, so I thought I’d bring some for the girls and the Carlyles. Were you the initiator of that pulse?”
“Actually, no. I think Beecham was testing our shields.” Alastair’s expression was grim. “It may be time to abandon our home.”
If Alastair was worried, things were dire. Ryker didn’t want to think about what it cost his friend to utter the words. Abandoning Thorne Manor would rip his buddy’s heart out.
“Do you think his army is stronger than what we have here?”
“I don’t know if we can take the chance with our family, Ryker. If we didn’t have the pregnant women present…”
“What about the Carlyle estate? Should Phillip be made aware of the threat?”
“Already done.” He looked up from programing a com to his security channel. “Autumn and Keaton left earlier, and Cooper went to warn them along with his parents.”
Before anything else could be said, another powerful pulse rocked the house. The people present staggered. A series of small earthquake-like rumbles followed. The tinkling of glass could be heard from the chandelier in the foyer, and the furniture shifted across the wood floors.
“What kind of damned magic can do that?” Ryker demanded.
Frowning, Alastair shook his head. “I have no idea.”
The air shifted and crackled around them.
“Incoming!”
The soldiers whipped their weapons up and encircled him and Alastair. Ryker wanted to laugh. It was doubtful anyone had half of the skills he and Al had learned over the years.
Keaton Carlyle arrived, looking harried and panicked. His dark hair was sticking up as if he’d tried to pull it out.
“What is it, boy?” Alastair barked, not allowing time for pleasantries should the young man decide to go that route.
“Autumn’s gone into labor. It started right after dinner.”
“Fuck! Achoo!”
In anticipation of his friend’s reaction, Ryker curled his hand into a fist and shot a wave of magic up and out, hoping to stem off the locusts that could decimate the forest around them. Such was Alastair’s curse. While he rarely swore, Al had the ability to bring on a plague of insects the likes none had ever seen. The power behind his emotion was what brought the potential destruction. If he was angry or upset enough to swear, the magic he released couldn’t be contained without magical intervention, either his own or by one of the family.
“Not only that, she seems to be causing the whole house to shake with each labor pain.” Keaton reached up and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “I don’t know what to do. We can’t move her, and Coop said…” He finally looked around and noticed the soldiers. “Shit!”
“I’ll get GiGi. Perhaps she can provide Autumn with something to ease her pain.” Ryker started for the door when GiGi appeared in the foyer.
“I don’t think the magic pulses are from Beecham. The headlights turned back,” she told them.
“It’s Autumn. She’s in labor.”
“Oh
, my.”
“Is this normal?” Keaton asked with a check of his watch. “I wouldn’t think labor pains could rock both estates.”
Again, the ground grumbled. Ryker grabbed the banister with one hand and supported GiGi with the other.
“I can’t say as I’ve ever known anything like this to happen.” She looked at her brother. “Al?”
Alastair shook his head. “I’ll consult with Isis. You and Ryker go with Keaton to see about Autumn.” He faced his team. “Martin, I want you to stay here with three others. Guard my family with your life if you have to. I want one of you with Ryker. I’ll take one of you with me to the clearing.”
They all separated and headed for their destinations. Ryker, GiGi, Keaton, and the guard arrived at the Carlyle estate just as another roll of magic bucked the earth. The terrified cries of the horses at the back of the property could be heard from the front of the house.
“I’ll go see what I can do to calm them,” Ryker told Keaton. Facing his wife, he said, “If you need me, send Keaton or Coop.” To the guard, he merely gestured to the front porch.
* * *
GiGi didn’t wait a second longer than necessary to run into the house. She found Autumn writhing on the bed, sweat beading on her forehead and her nightgown wet with sweat.
“Hey, sweet girl. I’m here,” she crooned as she brushed back Autumn’s damp hair.
“Something’s wrong… Aunt G.,” she panted. “The pain… the quakes…”
“Could be that you have a tough little earth elemental on your hands who wants to show the world what he can do,” GiGi teased. “I’m going to give you something to ease your discomfort then examine you, okay?”
“Okay. Is Mama coming?”
“I’ll send Keaton for her now.” GiGi nodded to Autumn’s husband. “Last time I saw Aurora, she was with Winnie. I’m assuming she’s still at Thorne Manor. Also, you may want to get in touch with Knox to help with those horses. Ryker doesn’t know the first thing about dealing with animals.”
