Prune Face Blackmon followed the eyes of her students to the open door. “Mr. Storm. Do you not have someplace you need to be?”
He stared at her for a couple of beats while he processed that question. Actually no. Thanks to her and Mr. Rodgers he didn’t have any place where he needed to be.
He looked to his right toward the front exit. If he went that way he would find his dad was waiting for him in the car. Then he looked to his left down the long polished hallway that led to a rear door. It takes a fraction of a second to make a choice that alters the course of a life so profoundly and irreparably that everything from that moment forward is a result, reward, or consequence of that one little choice. One of hundreds of choices routinely made in a day's cycle.
Angel Storm gave Blackmon the finger, and trotted away toward the rear exit, away from the weary father who waited, away from everything he'd known. He was grinning at the uproar of laughter from the poor douches who were going to be stuck in that hellhole the rest of the hour.
"Not a bad exit," he thought to himself. "Points shaved for lack of planning, but..."
He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do. But, if he could have looked into his future, even for a moment, he wouldn't have been grinning.
He was fourteen.
CHAPTER 3
The day after Elora Rose was born, the proud parents brought her home to the villa they had each dreamed about since adolescence.
Litha was stretched out on one of the two long leather sofas that faced each other. "I'm falling asleep. Again."
"Go ahead, Mama." Storm looked at the baby sleeping in his arm and brought her up to rest on his shoulder as easily as if he'd been performing that maneuver for years. "We've got this covered."
"You need to put that baby down sometimes, Beautiful. You're gonna make her sore."
He looked over at Litha with a half smirk. "I think that's an old wives tale."
"You're not calling me an old wife."
"If you say so."
"Do you smell something burning?"
Storm tightened his abs to help suppress a laugh so that the movement wouldn't wake Rosie. "You know that threat's starting to lose some of its punch. I think there’s more blowing smoke than burning fire."
That taunt woke Litha up just enough to give him a smile so wicked he was instantly sorry he'd thrown that gauntlet in her direction. After all, she was only going to be in a weakened state for a short time. She had a long memory and, like most hereditary witches, believed that few things are sweeter than payback. The witchy DNA combined with demon blood meant that his spouse had an internal magick bag of tricks, any one of which packed a punch potent enough to put the fear of the gods into the gods themselves. Yeah. He was going to be sorry he'd started something.
Thinking about that made him heave a big sigh. Just the distraction needed because it earned him a whiff of pure heavenly new baby scent.
He glanced at Litha who was sleeping peacefully, turned on her side facing him. He was watching her when she jerked from the sound of a whistle coming from the kitchen. Crap. Guess who's here?
Deliverance came striding into the living room, loud, chipper, irritating as hell, which come to think of it, could be behind the reason why demons ended up associated with the fiery underworld of mythology.
"Ding dong. The witch gives head."
Litha was startled awake, which couldn't feel good to a bunch of internal organs desperately trying to resize, reshape, and put themselves back in the right place. The baby was startled as well and was wiggling around, close to erupting into a full-blown fuss.
"Oops. Everybody sleeping?"
Storm shot the self-centered, inconsiderate, asshole of a demon a look that should have killed him where he stood. "Not anymore."
"Hi, Dad," Litha said softly, sounding tired and drowsy.
The incubus smiled at her and waved then dropped to his knees next to where Storm held the baby. "Can I hold her?"
"Oh. Now you want to use inside voices?" Storm wasn't the least fond of his father-in-law, but it was impossible to hate a creature who looked at his child with an adoration so complete that it was borderline worship. "Okay. Here's the deal. I let you hold the baby for fifteen minutes and then you go get Litha's favorite pasta primavera from Corelli's."
"Done," the demon grinned. He was ever so much happier to be offered an equitable trade than he would have been to get off Scot free. Demons are like that. It's all about the deal.
Rosie had just begun to settle back down when Storm stood carefully, trying not to disturb her further. He gestured for the demon to sit where he'd been and then transferred the baby onto the shoulder of her grandfather, the incubus.
Storm shook his head. Waking Woden. What a family.
The child seemed more than content on the new shoulder and sighed audibly. Storm held his watch up and made sure Deliverance saw him point to the time. The demon gave him a wide smile that said, "Holding me to my bargain. Lovely. Maybe you're not so bad, dickwad."
Turning back to check on Litha, Storm saw that she'd drifted off again. Using the stealth he'd acquired as a Black Swan hunter, he headed toward the kitchen without waking his girls. He checked his intelliphone for texts while keeping an eye on the time. One thing he'd learned about Deliverance was that, if the demon managed to exceed the contractually agreed time – in that case, fifteen minutes, he would lose respect for his son-in-law.
Storm could care less about having the respect of an incubus except for the fact that things seem to go smoother with it than without it. So for Litha’s sake, he made adjustments for kookiness that sometimes stretched way beyond the pale.
He stepped into the kitchen archway to check on Litha when he thought he heard quiet voices coming from the living room. She still looked sleepy and hadn't moved, but her eyes were open and she was talking to her father.
Storm arrived in time to hear Deliverance say in a near whisper, "She's so perfect in every way. Even her name. I love that you named her Rosie."
"I'm glad you like it. And she is. Perfect in every way."
"She looks like you."
Litha smiled and shook her head without raising up from the pillow. "No dad. You're not looking through clear eyes. See those long fingers? And look at that tiny scowl on her brow. She's intense even when she's asleep. She has my hair and maybe my eyes, but she’s Storm all over. And I’m thrilled about that. He’s the beauty in the family." Storm had to smile at that. What guy didn’t want to know his wife thought he was beautiful?
"But look at the bloom in her cheeks and the way her nose turns up a little at the end, like a pixie."
"All babies’ noses turn up a little,” she chuckled. “That’s so they can nurse without being suffocated.”
Deliverance didn’t look convinced.
Storm cleared his throat then tapped his watch face as he came around the sofa. He reached for the baby. The incubus pouted, but handed her over after planting a soft kiss on her little cheek.
"Stop that," Storm said, trying to wipe the kiss off Rosie’s cheek with the corner of a pink baby blanket. "There's no telling where those lips have been."
Deliverance snickered and held out his hand for money. Storm mined his pocket and slapped a hundred dollar bill in the demon's hand. "Tell them to put the Alfredo sauce on the side. She's very particular about how much and likes to put it on herself. And don’t think you’re fooling anybody about the money. I know you’re not going to pay for that."
Litha's dad glanced at her, snickered again, and vanished.
"You want to hold her while I set the table?"
Litha's eyes lit up and that was all the answer needed. He placed the sleeping baby on the sofa next to her mother.
Rosie's eyes might have opened a slit, but it was impossible to tell. She rubbed a tiny fist against her nose and went back to sleep.
Storm finished getting the kitchen ready for dinner delivered by demon and had just started back into the living
room to check on his girls, when Deliverance appeared. Storm wondered for the hundredth time why Litha was the only one who didn't jump when the demon popped in.
"Hi ho." Deliverance announced raising two bulging brown paper sacks, one clutched in each hand, and looking as pleased with himself as if he’d retrieved the Golden Fleece.
Litha's mouth suggested a wisp of a smile. "I keep telling you not to call me a ho."
The demon giggled and handed the bags to Storm one at a time. "Done and done." He knelt down next to the sofa where Litha was stretched out and ran the back of his index finger over Rosie's cheek. "Have I mentioned that you’re the two most beautiful females in the universe?"
Litha's eyes sparkled. "You haven't, but you’re pretty good at communicating your emotions. I guessed you felt that way."
Deliverance stood and gave his daughter an adoring look, nodded to Storm and disappeared.
Litha gathered up the baby before trying to swing her legs to the floor. Storm made two long-legged strides.
"Here. Let me do that." He scooped Rosie into the crook of his arm and used the other hand to help Litha stand. "I can bring the food in here if you'd rather."
"Don't be silly. I'm not an invalid. In fact, since our daughter is the most considerate baby in the history of babies, I can only imagine that I'm doing a hundred times better than most moms with one-day-olds." She cut Storm a suggestive leer. "There could be some benefits to you as well."
"Like..."
"Sex sooner. Less wear and tear on the equipment." She wiggled her eyebrows.
"Okay, stop. I get it."
"Am I making you uncomfortable? Please tell me you're not going to be one of those men who loses interest once the hot mama becomes a mama."
Storm grinned. "That had better not be wishful thinking on your part because, no." He used his free arm to gingerly pull her in close to his side then looked down at her with a sexy little crooked grin full of the promise of lots of living yet to come. "I'm never gonna give up any part of you."
"Well said, knight. Is that pasta primavera I smell?"
"Indeed. A feast worthy of my lady."
For almost six weeks after Rosie’s birth, everything proceeded normally. Storm's mother stopped over every few days to bring flowers or food or flowers and food. And hold the baby, of course. She was over the moon and kept calling grandparenthood a transcendent experience.
Sol left for vacation. As a favor to his daughter, Deliverance agreed to help simplify things by showing up at the vineyard every day to give Storm a "ride" to work at Jefferson Unit and stopping in to pick him up and return him six hours later. Glen was such a natural for the job that he didn't require much supervision, or even guidance.
Six weeks after they brought her home from the hospital, Rosie slept through the night without waking. Storm and Litha had gone to sleep facing each other, talking quietly about the future, reveling in the simple pleasure of their little family’s cocoon. Storm said he was looking forward to teaching Rosie how to swim and ride a bike.
When they woke they were still facing each other. Hearing the baby's cry, they opened their eyes and watched each other's features transform into surprise when they realized it was light already.
"She slept all night." Storm said it like he had not really believed that would ever happen. Then his mouth curved up to show how much he appreciated that it had.
Litha returned his smile as she pulled on her robe and padded down the hall. Storm stretched in their bed enjoying the feeling of sleeping naked between clean sheets. The thought crossed his mind that he was going to have to give up that luxury, sooner or later, with a daughter in the house.
He was completely relaxed and completely content, when he heard Litha call his name in a way that couldn't be good.
“Storm!”
He scrambled up, not bothering with clothes, and hurried to the nursery next door. Litha was standing just inside the door with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth.
Rosie was sitting up staring at them like she was waiting to see what they would do next. In her hand she held the diaper that had come off during the night. She waved it a few times to show them she had learned a new trick of coordination. There was no question that the child in the crib was Rosie, but it was a lot to process all at once.
Her black hair was three inches longer and falling around her pixie face in waves. Her blue eyes had changed color and were going toward green. The yellow nightgown that she’d been wearing when she went to sleep, which cinched like a sack several inches below her feet, now gaped around her chubby little knees and the upper body was stretched so tight it looked like it might have to be ripped away.
The doorbell rang. Litha looked at Storm in a panic.
"It's probably your mother. You're going to have to make up a story. She can't see Rosie."
Storm practically leaped into a pair of jeans and pulled a tee shirt over his head as he was jogging toward the front door.
When he opened the door and didn’t step aside to welcome her in, his mother looked him up and down. "What's wrong?"
"Um. Baby's sick. We were up with her all night." Thank Paddy. Ram's ability to lie on cue must have finally rubbed off on him.
"Oh. I'm sorry. Let me make breakfast."
"No, mom, that's wonderful of you, but we want to find out what the doctor says before we expose her to any more people. You understand."
"Yes. Well. You'll let me know if I can do something?"
"Of course. Thank you. Sorry to shuffle you off. I'll call you soon as we're cleared for company."
"I'm not company!" She sounded offended.
"No... I... ah...."
"Never mind. I know what you meant. Take care of Litha and Rose."
"Rosie," he corrected. "And I will. Talk to you later." He felt like a scumbag for closing the door in his mother's face, but he had bigger problems than a mom with hurt feelings.
Way bigger.
He walked back to the nursery halfway hoping that, when he arrived, he would find a six-week-old baby. No such luck.
The next hour was a blur. Litha estimated Rosie's age at six months. She fashioned a makeshift diaper out of a dish towel and sat down in the rocking chair to feed the baby. Rosie was happy enough to lie in her mother's arms while she ate, but she promptly took the bottle away from Litha and held it in her own two hands. Litha looked down into green eyes that mirrored her own and said, "I wasn't ready to give that up yet, little girl."
Rosie stopped sucking for a minute like she was contemplating what was being said. She smiled, but she didn't offer to relinquish the bottle. That smile stole Litha’s breath. She was sure she’d never seen anything as beautiful since the day the gorgeous knight had walked into the Headquarters building in Edinburgh.
Storm returned home with clothes and diapers to fit a six-month-old and jars of organic baby food to supplement the formula.
"How did you know what kind of baby food to get?"
"I Giggled it."
"Oh." Litha started looking through the selection. "What is Tutti Fruiti?"
"Ah. Mixed fruit?" Litha read the label, looked at Storm like he was a moron, and unceremoniously dropped the jar in the trash. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m guessing there's a learning curve."
Elora was eager to see the reported changes in Rosie, so she was invited to come to what had been known for a while as Thursday Night Dinner With Glen.
Glen arrived first. He and the demon popped in as Litha was on the verge of giving Storm a lecture on nutrition. She stopped when she saw that Glen had arrived. Turning toward him with the baby straddling her hip, Litha smiled and opened her mouth to welcome her husband’s protégé, but the greeting was upstaged by Rosie’s delighted giggle. The baby clapped her little hands, making up for what she lacked in coordination with enthusiasm and squealed, "Glen!"
Deliverance, who had dropped Glen and gone back for Elora, arrived with the auntie in tow seconds later. They found three adults frozen
and staring at Rosie.
Elora looked around the room. “What’d I miss?”
Sol summoned Storm to Jefferson Unit. It was easy enough for him to get a ride with Deliverance because the demon showed up to gush over Rosie every damn day.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Sir Storm. Come in. Should thank you for not just barging in whenever the hell you feel like it."
"You do know I'm retired and have absolutely no obligation whatsoever to come when you call. So. You’re welcome.”
Sol harrumphed. "I need something from you."
"Imagine that."
The Sovereign narrowed his eyes. "Is this attitude new or have you been hiding a belligerent side all along?"
Storm smiled brightly. "You'll never know."
"The reason why I asked you here is this. Things are kind of quiet for a change so I'm thinking I might slip away for a few days of vacation."
Storm barked out a laugh.
"Vacation? That's how you're gonna play it? Come on. You churned up a shit storm with your future bride and had to promise a romantic getaway to smooth things over."
Sol's brows drew together. "How did you know that?"
Storm plopped into a chair laughing.
"How indeed? I told you you've got a lot to learn about women." He leaned forward with mischief written all over his normally serious face. "And I hope this make-up interlude costs you dearly."
"What did I ever do to you?"
Storm gaped, then looked at his watch. "You have the rest of the day for me to get started on that list?"
Sol stared at Storm for a few beats, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of asking for favors. "The point is that I need somebody to cover for me. I thought maybe I could leave you in charge with Catch acting as assistant."
"For how long?"
"Four weeks."
Storm started chuckling all over again. "Four weeks? You really did bite it, didn't you?" Sol looked a little beaten and confused so Storm gave him a little pity slack.
Gathering Storm Page 3
