by Bonnie Lamer
Turning back to my own son, my mind still reeling at the concept, I encourage him to finish his explanation. “You were saying?”
Taking a deep breath, Xavion pushes aside whatever emotion he was feeling a moment ago. “Really, it’s the same old thing as all the stories you and Dad have told us over the years. Someone wants to destroy the world, and us, and we need to fix it.”
The way he says this implies that he may have heard Kallen’s and my stories a few too many times over the years. I choose to ignore his little jab because there’s no way we’d bore our children by repeating our stories. Right? Okay, I probably shouldn’t dwell on that question any longer. Instead, I’ll focus on the fact that he’s obviously leaving something out of his story. I suspect it’s a key point.
Concern furrowing his brow, Kallen asks, “Is this an old foe or a new one?”
With only the tiniest roll of her eyes, Zyla leans forward and says, “That all depends on how you look at it, right?”
Tilting my head to the side, I study her. Despite her snark, she is trying so hard to be patient with us. It’s kind of adorable. And irritating as hell. “What do you mean?” I ask, struggling with my own patience.
With a sigh, she scoots to the end of her chair. “For us, it’s an old foe. But the reason we’re here is because this…” she gestures around the room with her hands in a way that I assume is supposed to mean this time period and not this physical location, “is when it all starts. When the universe finds out that you’re pregnant with us. So, it’s a new foe for you.”
“When all what starts?” Kegan asks. He keeps glancing sideways at his son and then back down to the baby in his arms. I think his current reality is a bit more surreal than mine and Kallen’s. I’ve read in various sci-fi books that it’s bad to run into yourself during time travel. Hopefully, baby Keelan is still too young for it to matter. Babies don’t really have a concept of self, right?
Zyla puts an end to my time travel thoughts when she answers Kegan’s question. “When the Ancient Council determines that there may be a threat to the balance of the universe, and what they should do about it.”
“The Ancient Council?” I gasp. The council of minor Gods, Angels and Seraphim that I called upon to help us with the Sirens? The one that has the power to wipe out the existence of, oh, anyone. And their entire race along with them. Completely erasing them from history as if they never existed at all. Basically, just by snapping their collective fingers. Fear is now gnawing at the lining of my gut. At the rate it’s gaining strength and growing teeth, I should be walking around with a giant window to my innards any second now. Maybe Tabitha will make me some curtains for it.
“What threat?” Kallen asks. But deep down he knows the answer just as I do.
Kegan walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. I suspect his legs are about to give out, and he’d rather not fall to the ground while holding his young son. “The three of you?” he asks in awe. Lurking in the background behind the fear and shock in his eyes is a mountain built of surprise and pride. I’m not sure what surprises him most – that our kids are a threat to the universe, or that his own child is powerful enough to be included in that threat. Either way, he’s proud to have brought such a powerful being into the world. He hugs baby Keelan closer and kisses the top of his head. Maybe not the best time to celebrate, but I guess parents need to take their wins when they can.
Big Keelan nods and answers his father’s question. Wow, I thought it would be another year or so before that would be possible considering the Keelan I’m most familiar with is still not able to walk or talk. How quickly reality is changing. “Yes, the three of us,” Keelan says. Crossing the room from the door, he gives his father a comforting pat on the shoulder and then takes a seat on the arm of the chair Zyla is sitting on. She glares up at him, which he ignores. Cousins. I guess it doesn’t matter if they’re male or female when it comes to annoying each other.
“The Ancient Council,” I repeat, still trying to wrap my mind around it. Well, less wrapping my mind around it and more building a steel barrier in my brain that can’t be penetrated by anything remotely resembling truth, reality, or acceptance. Amazingly complicated process coming up with an alloy formula to build such a structure. I really should have paid more attention during my chemistry lessons. Who knew it would have practical life value for me?
“Yes, Mother, the Ancient Council,” Zyla says impatiently. “They want to wipe us from existence.”
Instinctively, my hand goes to my lower abdomen and rests where the almost microscopic versions of the children sitting in front of us are busy growing and developing. I’ve been pregnant for barely a minute and my children are already in danger. Something I always feared would happen if I got pregnant – that I wouldn’t be able to keep my child, or children, safe from the other powerful beings in the universe I’ve come across. I attract trouble like magnets attract paper clips, so it’s always been a reasonable fear. And now I have proof of that. I peek at my husband and I know the same thought is going through his mind.
That’s not the only thing I can see when I look at him, though. The very same inferno of love, protection, and determination that exploded inside of me is burning inside of Kallen. I straighten my spine and give him a small nod. Guess what, I mentally shout out to the universe. The Council can suck it.
The fear that has been gnawing at my gut is suddenly kicked in the face by a towering giant named Rage. Rage may not always be the most useful of the emotions, but in this case, I’m willing to bet it’s going to be the most motivating. Rising to my feet, I plant my hands on my hips and let Rage fill me from the topmost hair on my head to the bottommost layer of skin on my feet. “That’s not going to happen,” I assure my children in a tone that conveys the truth behind my words.
Not only do I believe this, I have never been more certain about anything in my life. The pathways in my brain that were working on the steel barrier stop, grab pen and paper, and start working on an equation that will stop a bunch of power crazed gods from going after my children. Funny, I thought I’d never use calculus in real life, either. Good thing Dad ignored my whining and made me study.
Kallen rises and places an arm around my waist in solidarity, and Kegan stands to his full height next to us, creating a united Fairy front. “No, it won’t,” they both declare. There’s not a hint of doubt in their voices, either. My we’re a confident bunch. Probably not the most realistic bunch considering the enemies we are about to face, but confident. We’ll take on anyone to protect our children. No matter how many powerful beings are coming at us, we’ll fight to the death if need be.
I wonder how many powerful beings it will be exactly. I start doing a mental count of the number of Seraphim and minor Gods that I’ve either met or read about who are likely on the Council. Okay, that’s a lot. Best to stop thinking about that before my confidence shows signs of wavering in front of the kids.
Unfortunately, Xavion seems to have his father’s ability to read my mind. Or at least, my facial expressions. “It’s not the entire council,” he clarifies. “We have our allies. Ra, Isis, Rashnu, Zeus, and a few others.”
I can’t help but smile. Rashnu has always had my back. Ra and Isis aren’t a surprise either considering all Eliana and I have been through with them. But… “Zeus?” I ask in surprise.
“Apparently, he has a thing for you,” Zyla says with a healthy shudder of disgust. “Old people lust. Gross.”
I don’t even know where to start with that old people comment since Kallen and I are only a little less than a decade older right now than the children sitting in front of us. So, I’ll focus on the first part. “I don’t believe Zeus has a ‘thing’ for me,” I deny with a wave of my hand. I feel Kallen’s narrowed eyes focusing in my direction, and I ignore the color creeping into my cheeks.
On my left, Kegan’s emotions explode out of his mouth in one word that echoes around the room. “Why?” he demands angrily, startling Kallen and me back
to the conversation at hand.
“What?” I ask.
Kegan’s hard gaze is set on our three children even though his anger is in no way directed toward them, which is easy to tell. Just one example of how he’s the only one of us with actual parental experience. Limited as it may be. “Why does the Ancient Council believe that you’re a threat to the balance of the universe? What happens to make them believe that?”
Oh. Good question. The council doesn’t act recklessly. Nor does it respond to potential threats. There must be a reason, and possibly one that is directly the fault of the three children sitting in front of us. Oh god, what if they did something to deserve the Council’s wrath? I clamp down hard on that thought. No. I refuse to believe that our children are capable of such a thing.
At least, I refuse to believe they did anything evil. I would be naïve to think that there wasn’t a precipitating incident. Especially when both boys turn their eyes toward Zyla, whose cheeks are suddenly a shade of red that would make even award-winning tomatoes jealous. I know that expression. Every single iota of doubt that has survived in the last twenty minutes disappears. I am now utterly convinced that this girl is my daughter.
Chapter 2
Zyla glares at her brother and her cousin in turn. “It’s not all my fault,” she insists. “You’re just as much a part of this as I am.”
With a wince of defeat, Xavion sighs and turns back to us. “She’s right. It’s all of us.”
“Wait.” Even though he asked the question, Kegan holds a hand up to stop the explanation. Adjusting baby Keelan in his arms, he explains, “Before you say anything else, I really need to get Alita. I’ve kept your presence from her for too long already, and it’s not fair.”
Kallen sighs. “Actually, everyone should know. If danger of this magnitude is heading our way, we need to be prepared. That means gathering everyone who will be affected by what is said.”
I certainly hope he means everyone in the house. I don’t think the entire Fairy population needs to be told quite yet. Especially since I doubt the council has any issue with the Fae race. Just us. The Fairies already think I bring nothing but trouble to their land. Considering I have brought more than my fair share of trouble here, I guess I can’t really blame them. Still, best not to cause realm-wide panic.
“Not exactly the way I envisioned telling everyone,” I mutter, my hand finding its way to my lower belly again and resting there protectively.
The three children rise from their seats. “Don’t worry, Mom, they take it amazingly well,” Zyla assures me with a knowing grin. “Well, a couple of them do anyway. The rest, well…,” she shrugs.
Her brother elbows her to get her to be quiet. “Not helpful,” Xavion mutters.
Kallen cocks his head to the side and studies our daughter. “You inherited Grandmother’s sight.” An observation, not a question.
Zyla nods proudly. “It’s not quite the same, but yes, I do have the sight.”
“It’s like Great-Grandmother’s sight on steroids,” Keelan informs us with a chuckle. He opens his mouth to say more but doesn’t get very far.
Xavion clamps down on his cousin’s shoulder and gives him a pointed look. My son is obviously both the peacekeeper and the level head in the group. So much like his father. “We’ll get to that,” Xavion grinds out. Keelan glares at his cousin but clamps his mouth shut.
I glance between Kallen and Kegan. “Some things just don’t skip a generation, do they?” Both guys stare at me blankly, and I just shake my head. “Never mind.”
“Give me five minutes,” Kegan says. “I need to get Alita.”
“Alita is here,” a soft voice says from the doorway.
I whip around, a hand against my pounding chest. “You scared me,” I complain to Alita. How did none of us sense her presence? I guess being surprised with children from the future is throwing us off our game. We need to be more aware than this going forward.
“I heard Kegan’s voice, so I didn’t bother to knock. I’m sorry.” She’s talking to me, but Alita’s eyes are locked onto Keelan. The tall one.
Kegan hurries to his wife and takes her arm, leading her forward. “Alita, there’s someone you should meet.”
Without responding, Alita gently shakes off Kegan’s hand and crosses the room. She engulfs her son in her arms. “You’re so big,” she laughs. Or is she crying? I think it’s a bit of both.
“I guess I don’t need to explain things to her,” Kegan mutters in awe, a slightly crooked grin on his lips.
Backing up slightly and cupping her son’s face in her hands, Alita counters, “Oh, I still need an explanation. But I know my own son when I see him.”
Keelan smiles down at her. He is just as handsome as his father, with the same slightly crooked grin. “Hi, Mom.”
Clearing his throat, Kallen gazes between me, Kegan and Alita. The concern washing over his face is a whole new type of stress than what he was already feeling. Clearing his throat again, he says, “Alita’s words may be true, but there is something we should consider. As convinced as the four of us are of their identities, it may take a little more convincing for the rest of our family to believe it. After all, no one is even aware that Xandra is pregnant.” The pointed look I get reminds me that he’s still not happy about the fact that this is how he found out. To be fair, I had planned to tell him today. I had a more romantic plan in mind that involved a picnic, the beach, and an afternoon of lovemaking. But that ship has now sailed off into the sunset, hit an iceberg, and sank into the middle of the ocean, taking the picnic lunch and afternoon of lovemaking with it.
Alita whirls around. “You’re pregnant NOW?” she exclaims. Suddenly, I’m the one wrapped in her arms. With the added bonus of being twirled around in a circle multiple times as Alita squeals with delight in my ear.
Funny thing about early pregnancy. Mornings and twirling just don’t mix. Nope. They don’t mix at all. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I forcibly disentangle myself from Alita’s embrace and make a run for it. Even in my current state, I can’t help but be impressed with the speed in which I can shove past Kegan and Kallen, practically knocking over the latter who is only able to save himself from a trip to the floor by grabbing the edge of the dresser, enter the bathroom and slam the door shut. Still, I barely make it in time. I slide across the tiled floor and just reach the toilet as my stomach begins to empty. It goes on for so long, I’m convinced my stomach ordered out while I was sleeping.
“Follow her, you said,” a voice mutters from the far bathroom wall. “Make sure she’s okay, you said. Now we have to be in here for this?” Gagging noises ensue.
“Shut up, you insensitive mongrel,” Felix growls at Taz. But he gulps audibly as he tries to refrain from making his own gagging sounds. I ignore them both as my pregnant body does what pregnant bodies do in the mornings. At least, I hope it’s limited to mornings.
When I can once again use my mouth for speech, I turn my eyes toward my Familiars. Just that little bit of motion makes me dizzy and has my stomach churning again. I eye the cool tiles of the floor, wondering how they would feel against my clammy forehead. “You’ve been awfully quiet until now,” I manage to get out. “Why didn’t you wake us up when they showed up?”
If Tasmanian devils could squirm, Felix would be. “Their scent is so much like yours and Kallen’s, it didn’t register that someone different was in the room.”
“It wasn’t just that,” Taz snipes, giving Felix a withering look. “No sense in keeping it from her.” To me, he admits, “They’re familiar to us already. We know their scents.”
I guess their scent being like mine and Kallen’s is reasonable if they’re our children. But Taz’s statement is a little more interesting. “Familiar how? Like you can already sense them inside of me?”
Taz scoffs. “Like we couldn’t tell you were pregnant days ago by your smell.”
Huh, that’s kind of creepy. And makes me wonder if I need to shower more often if they’re so at
tuned to my smell. I’m going to let this conversation drop because I don’t want to think about what else they can tell about me by my scent. “So, you believe them, too?” I ask.
Felix nods his little head. “I don’t sense any type of masking spell or malice from any of them.”
Taz snorts. “You can’t smell malice.”
Felix eyes him. “If you could smell anything besides bacon, you would know that is not true.”
Bacon. Just the thought of it makes my stomach churn again. As much as I would like to ask the two of them more questions, pregnancy and dry heaves will not be denied their share of attention.
Ten minutes later, I reenter the bedroom with freshly scrubbed teeth, my face washed, and a stomach that has finally settled. Somewhat. I’m trailed by two Familiars. One of whom has finally stopped having his own dramatic set of dry heaves.
Kallen stops his pacing and is in front of me in an instant. Touching my cheek softly but still giving me some space, he asks, “Are you okay?”
