“Yes, but ... .”
“Ignore him,” Aisling interjected, making a dismissive gesture that caught my attention. “He’s not trying to be a pain. Er, well, he does sometimes enjoy that. That’s not what he’s doing here, though. He feels bad about what happened, and his guilt manifests in sexism.”
Cormack balked. “I’m not sexist!”
“You most certainly are,” Aisling shot back. “You’re totally sexist ... and then some. When I was a kid I had a different set of rules from the boys.”
“Name one rule you had the boys didn’t.”
“I wasn’t allowed to swim shirtless at the lake.”
Cormack rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault that there are different sets of rules for boys and girls when it comes to swimming etiquette. Take it up with Miss Manners ... or whoever made that rule. I didn’t impose that rule on you; society did.”
“How about when the boys were allowed to stay out all night for their proms but I had to be back by two in the morning?”
“That was for your own safety,” Cormack replied without hesitation. “Teenagers — especially boys — are horn dogs. I was keeping you safe, and I’m not sorry for it.”
“You didn’t keep the boys safe,” Aisling shot back.
“Maybe that’s because you’re my favorite and I didn’t care if they came back,” Cormack suggested. “Have you ever considered that?”
Aisling was clearly in too much pain to argue. Discomfort was etched all over her face, something I couldn’t take any longer.
“Good grief. How can you people torture her like this?” I rolled out of my chair and dropped to my knees in front of Aisling, giving her husband a wary look as I held up my hands. “May I?”
“May you what?” Griffin asked, refusing to release his wife’s feet. “What are you going to do to her?”
“Make her feel better.” I had only one goal with my next maneuver, and that was to alleviate the occasional whimpering I heard inside Aisling’s head when her barriers weakened. “She’s not just complaining to complain — although I know that’s what you think. She’s in serious pain.”
Griffin narrowed his eyes. “I never said she was complaining to complain.”
“No, but you thought it.”
Griffin opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out.
“How do you know what he was thinking?” Aisling asked.
“It’s a little ability I have.”
“You’re psychic?”
“I’m ... sensitive,” I clarified. “I can sometimes feel emotions, see inside people’s heads and even dream about things I have no business knowing about.”
“That’s not a reaper ability, right?” Griffin queried.
Cormack shook his head. “No. It’s a witch ability.”
“Bruja,” I corrected. “I’m not a witch. My mother was a Bruja.”
Griffin wasn’t ready to accept my claims about being able to help his wife. “What’s a Bruja?”
“A fancy witch,” Aisling replied. “Can you really stop my feet from hurting?”
“I can ease some of the issues.”
“Then go for it. I can’t take much more of this.”
“Wait a second.” Griffin kept his hands protectively over Aisling’s feet. “How do I know you won’t hurt her?”
“Why would I hurt her?”
“It happens all the time. I think it has something to do with her mouth.”
“Well, that’s not who I am.” I worked hard to corral my temper. “I have no interest in hurting her. In fact, it’s the pain she’s struggling with – something that’s so loud in her head I hear it echoing in my head – that I want to ease. She’s already in pain.”
Griffin cast his wife a sidelong look. “I’m sticking close for this.”
Aisling didn’t seem surprised by the statement. “Great. Awesome. Knock yourself out.” She focused on me. “What do you need me to do?”
I smiled at her ability to throw caution to the wind. “Do you have any Epsom salts?”
Eight
Braden was awake by the time Cormack gathered the supplies I’d asked for. I requested a bucket be filled with warm water and placed at Aisling’s feet before I dumped some Epsom salts in and motioned for her to lower her feet into the liquid.
Whether she trusted me or not — my guess was she was on the fence — Aisling was in so much discomfort she did as I asked without hesitation. Griffin remained close, keeping at his wife’s side as he watched me rest my hands on the edges of the bucket.
“What are you going to do?” Braden’s curiosity got the better of him as he joined us. “This won’t hurt her, will it?”
“She’ll be fine.” I smiled at Aisling as I flexed my fingers. “I can’t fix everything because this is nature at work, but I can ease some of the discomfort.”
“Because you’re a Bruja?” Aisling was intrigued by the process. “Just for the record, we’ve crossed paths with a witch or two and it didn’t end well. There were a lot of evil shenanigans going on, and I only like my shenanigans mildly evil, not fully evil.”
“I’m not that kind of Bruja. I’m more of a traditionalist, female empowerment and the like. My grandfather owns a magic store in New Orleans. I learned a lot from him, although he was technically born a reaper.”
“Is he still there?” Cormack asked as he lowered himself into a nearby chair to watch.
I nodded. “He is. He wasn’t keen on me returning to Detroit. He wanted me to stay with him.”
“He raised you after your parents died, right?” Braden asked.
“He did.”
“Even though Madame Maxine wanted you to stay with her.”
Aisling’s eyes flashed with surprise. “What?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention that?” Braden rubbed his hand over the back of his sleep-mussed hair. “Izzy is Madame Maxine’s niece. I found that out this afternoon during our visit.”
“That would’ve been helpful information,” Cormack chided, shaking his head. “I knew Maxine had a niece — and I’m vaguely aware of the incident that claimed her sister’s life — but I had no idea that Izzy was the woman in question.”
“Well, now you know.” I forced myself to remain chipper as I worked my fingers over the water. “Now, be quiet for a second. I need to concentrate.”
I didn’t miss the amused look Braden shared with his father, but they remained silent as I pulsed magic from the ends of my fingertips. I’d learned the healing spell from an elderly Bruja in the French Quarter. Louise was a good friend of my grandfather’s — I often wondered if they were more than friends — and she taught me her whole bag of tricks before I departed. I was thankful for the lessons, although the studied way the Grimlocks watched me now made me question the intelligence associated with volunteering my talents.
“Just relax, Aisling,” I instructed. “The water is going to bubble. That’s normal.”
“I don’t care if the water starts talking,” Aisling murmured as she leaned back on the couch, her eyes closed. “That feels amazing.”
I risked a glance at Griffin and found him smiling as he watched his wife enjoy her foot bath. He was hard to get a read on, a bit of wariness tinged his blue aura, but it was clear he would do whatever it took to make Aisling feel better. Sure, he was convinced she was milking her ailment to get attention, but he honestly didn’t care. He was willing to dote on her until the end of time, which was apparently what she wanted.
“Is she sleeping?” Braden asked suddenly, leaning forward. “She sounds like she’s snoring.”
“She snores a lot louder than that,” Griffin countered. “But she is sleeping. She went heavy against my side. In fact, I don’t think she’s slept this hard in weeks.”
“She’s uncomfortable,” I explained, the magic continuing to pulse in short bursts from my fingers. The Grimlocks couldn’t see what I was doing. They simply recognized that I was helping Aisling and opted to let me go about my business without
intervening. “She’s a thin woman. The only weight she’s carrying is in her chest and stomach. That makes matters worse because her back and feet are screaming twenty-four hours a day.”
Griffin jerked his head in my direction. “I thought she was just bucking for massages when she said her back hurt.”
“Really?” I cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Can you imagine carrying this much extra weight in one spot? How would your back feel?”
“She’s got you there, Griffin,” Braden teased. “Although, to be fair, I thought she was whining simply to whine, too. Are you telling me she’s been in pain all this time?”
“Not pain,” I clarified. “I wasn’t around for the beginning of her pregnancy. I can’t tell you what she was feeling then. She’s close to the end. Her discomfort will only magnify. It’s not helped by the fact that she’s terrified of giving birth.”
Cormack shifted on his chair and drew my attention. “She’s terrified? How do you know that?”
“She’s an open book as far as emotions go. She probably can’t shade her emotions right now, which is why they’re so easy to read. That’s common in women before their time.”
“But ... Aisling isn’t afraid of anything,” Braden argued. “Why would she be afraid of this?”
“Is it the birth itself?” Griffin asked worriedly. “We had to go to this class where they showed us video of an actual birth. She was fine before that, upbeat even. That video was scary. Neither one of us slept that night.”
I offered him a heartfelt smile. “She is terrified of the pain, but she knows that it’s temporary. She’s more afraid of being displaced than anything else.”
“Displaced?” Cormack rubbed his hands together. “Why would she be displaced?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t a mind reader. I couldn’t know everything that went through the woman’s head. “I don’t know. I can’t answer that for you.”
“It’s because she’s used to being the center of attention,” Braden interjected. “That has to be it. Once the baby comes, everyone will be focused on it rather than her.”
“Well, we simply won’t let that happen.” Cormack was matter-of-fact. “We’ll spoil her just as much as we normally do. We’ll make a point of it.”
“You mean that you’ll spoil her as much as you normally do,” Griffin corrected. “You’re the one who goes out of your way to make sure she’s the center of everyone’s universe.”
“Oh, please.” Cormack refused to let Griffin paint him into a corner. “You spoil her just as much as I do. In fact, I’ll wager you spoil her more than I do.”
“That’s not possible.”
“And I don’t think it matters,” I interjected, my tone forceful. “She can’t help her fear. We all know she has nothing to worry about. I barely know you people and I recognize that. It’s normal for expectant mothers to feel fear. That’s all this is.”
“What should we do?” Griffin pressed. “I want her to feel safe and secure.”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth. “You know her best. Figure it out.”
THEY INVITED ME FOR DINNER.
I was uncomfortable at the thought — the Grimlocks were a close-knit family, after all — but I didn’t have a way back to Belle Isle because Braden had driven. I could’ve tried for an Uber, but ultimately I agreed to stay because a rejuvenated Aisling informed me they were having prime rib and an ice cream bar. She was so enthusiastic I acquiesced.
Now, looking at the huge spread in the dining room, I could understand why Aisling spent half the afternoon talking about the prime rib. “This is ... wow!”
“Yeah, it took me a while to get used to it, too,” Griffin said as I got comfortable between him and Aidan. “Now I have to work out twice as often because I eat double the calories.”
I could see that. “This place is fantastic. I can’t believe you live here all alone, Mr. Grimlock.”
At the head of the table, a glass of bourbon in hand, Cormack arched an eyebrow. “Call me ‘Cormack.’ And what makes you think I live here alone?”
“Oh, well ... .” The question caught me off guard. “I was under the impression that your wife had died. I assumed you were alone. I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”
“It’s not stupid. I’m not married. I don’t have a girlfriend or significant other.”
“Yeah, last time he did that we all lost our minds a bit,” Braden explained from across the table. “We prefer him single and sad.”
“Don’t say things like that.” Aisling threw a roll across the table. Braden clearly wasn’t expecting it because it bounced off his head.
“That was uncalled for,” Braden snapped, making a face. “The second you pop that kid out — I mean the absolute second — I’m giving you nine months of brotherly love taps. You’d better prepare yourself.”
He was all talk. I recognized that. He didn’t realize it, but his concern for his sister was right on the surface when I mentioned her terror in his father’s office. Apparently arguing was part of their sibling shtick.
“Oh, I’m shaking in my unswollen feet,” Aisling shot back, smiling at me. “Thanks for whatever you did, by the way. I haven’t felt this good in weeks. You’re a miracle worker.”
My cheeks burned under the praise. “It was nothing.”
“That’s not true.” Griffin was serious. “She feels so much better than she did. I can’t thank you enough.”
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was.” Griffin refused to let it go. “I don’t like it when she’s in pain.”
“Mostly because she makes the rest of us feel the pain, too,” Braden grumbled.
Griffin ignored him. “Really. Thank you.”
“We’re all thankful,” Cormack agreed. “You did a great thing, and we’re all grateful.”
“What are we grateful for?”
I flicked my eyes to the door when Redmond, Cillian and a woman I didn’t recognize walked in. They were laughing, and didn’t appear surprised to have a guest at the table.
“Izzy fixed Aisling’s feet,” Braden supplied. “She’s a witch.”
“Bruja,” Aisling clarified on my behalf before I had a chance to respond. “If you haven’t noticed, she doesn’t like the term ‘witch.’”
“I don’t see a difference,” Braden argued. “A Bruja by any other name is a witch.”
“They’re not all that similar,” I argued. “There are distinctive differences.”
“Like what?”
“Like mind your own business,” Aisling snapped, her temper on full display. “She’s allowed to feel whatever she feels ... especially after she saved my feet.” As if to prove her point, she pushed back from the table and lifted her bare feet. “Do you see this? She erased five pounds of water weight from each one. I no longer feel as if I’m about to explode.”
“And we’re all very thankful for that, Aisling,” Cormack said, shaking his head as he graced his daughter with a fond look. “I don’t care how much better you’re feeling, though. Feet don’t belong on the table.”
“Whatever.” Aisling’s annoyance was evident. “I wish Jerry were here. He’d understand my excitement. Where is he?” She turned to stare at Aidan. “I thought he was coming for dinner tonight.”
“He got caught up with a wedding consultation,” Aidan replied as he watched the cook carve the prime rib at the end of the table. “Apparently the mayor’s son is marrying a state representative’s son and they have big plans for the cake.”
“Jerry owns a bakery in Royal Oak,” Aisling offered helpfully. “It’s called Get Baked and it’s amazing. He’s been keeping me in sugar for the past few months. I’ll take you to meet him when we both have an opening in our schedules. You’re going to love him.”
Griffin rested his arm on the back of Aisling’s chair. “How do you know she’s going to love Jerry?”
“Everybody loves Jerry!”
“She’s right.” Aidan winked at his sister before fo
cusing his full attention on me. “You should go with Aisling, though. I think you’ll like Jerry, and I guarantee Jerry will like you. He’s a big fan of people who can wear leather coats without looking like the Fonz.”
Aisling snickered as I glanced at the jacket I had draped over the back of my chair.
“He likes people who look like the Fonz, too,” she offered. “Don’t let anybody kid you.”
“Oh, well ... the coat belonged to my father. My grandfather kept it for years and gave it to me when I graduated high school. I’ve always worn it. I don’t think anything of it now.”
“Oh.” Aisling looked appropriately contrite. “That’s a good reason to wear it. It’s awesome anyway, vintage.”
“Like you know anything about clothes,” Aidan countered, shaking his head. “You’ve spent the last two months in sweat pants and T-shirts. You haven’t even bothered wearing a bra unless you were certain you were going to run into Dad.”
Cormack slapped his hand to his forehead. “Must you bring this up?”
“I was simply making a point,” Aidan shot back. “Aisling has no room to judge anyone when it comes to fashion.”
“I wore a bra to work,” Aisling offered, although the furtive look she shot Aidan told me that wasn’t necessarily true. There was a lot of warning sewn up in her glare. “I didn’t want to frighten the souls, so I always wore a bra at work. Isn’t that right, Griffin?”
Her husband suddenly found something interesting on his empty plate. “Who else is looking forward to spring? I know I am. I absolutely hate winter. The best thing about winter is cuddling in front of a fire, and given Aisling’s hot flashes, that hasn’t been nearly as much fun this year.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at the murderous look on Aisling’s face.
“I think that means Aisling hasn’t been wearing a bra to work,” Braden noted. “I’m shocked she did something that wasn’t professional. I mean ... shocked! She’s always been the picture of reaper fashion elegance until this point.”
Only The Lonely (A Death Gate Grim Reapers Thriller Book 1) Page 8
