Quickening, Volume 2

by Amy Lane

  In fact, he remembered, bemused by his train of thought, she had learned to knit in the first place because she’d been laid up and recovering from another crisis. Life had a funny way of turning circles, didn’t it?

  He fingered the fine work of his own sweater, cream colored with tiny cables. She’d given herself a break, and it wasn’t as elaborate as some of the others she’d done, but he liked the simplicity.

  He could feel the magic of her love for him in the fibers.

  She was doing that, right now, for their children.

  Her first day on bed rest, Cory had asked for her laptop and spent the day poring over city plans and reports, trying to find out where the solstice rite would take place.

  Well, she had company. Pretty much every elf, werecreature, and vampire was doing the same thing on their own time, and had been since the equinox.

  But the next morning they’d had to concede that solstice was over. Whatever recruiting the elf queen had been able to do, she’d done. They gathered their people to the hill for safety, but also for celebration, because yes, the war was still on, but so many of them had lived through so much.

  There was truly much to celebrate.

  That didn’t mean all work stopped, though. Green had moved his computer desk to the group bedroom—they all slept with her now every night—for the holidays, partly to get it out of the main room for the Christmas revels and partly to keep her company. He hated working during the holidays, hated it, but the bid to buy the hill that had started in August had gotten serious. The American government was sticking its nose into Green’s property rights, and he was at least a little worried.

  He was also too obsessed with their immediate physical enemy to pay as much attention as he should. Of course, now that the solstice was over, he thought he’d accidentally located the property where the ritual had taken place. Finding it had been pure serendipity—he’d been researching other places where the government was making claims where it shouldn’t, and this property had met all of their criteria. As frustrating as it was to be Johnny-come-lately, although they couldn’t go back in time and stop Nimuetia’s last recruitment, they could violate the building and break any power circles she’d set up there. She might still have her werewolves, but the hill folk could interfere with her ability to draw power from them, and definitely force her to go look somewhere else for her spring ritual.

  And that could be when they’d get her.

  But Green was putting that aside for the moment. Part of his beloved’s celebration was the actual planning for the baby blankets, and she had spent the day before ordering Nicky and Bracken to drag her yarn out from under the bed, spread it out, then put it back in the boxes and put it back under the bed, then drag it back out, then put it back in, and bring her this pattern book here, and this one there, and then….

  Grace had walked in with two complementary colorways of yarn and a simple basket weave pattern that Green could probably do in his sleep, and told her briskly to just fucking start already.

  “You’ll never find the perfect pattern,” she’d said with a wistful smile. “There will always be a pattern you’ll wish you’d had time for, another one that would have been more practical. I’ve brought you wool that is beautiful and can be washed. I’ve brought you a pattern you can knock out in about a week, if you’re stuck here. So by the time you go back to school, you’ll have two blankets. You may make six more by the time you’re done, and a layette for each kid. But the fact is, all you’re really going to need is two blankets, some diapers, and a package of onesies for each kid. Then you can go back to school and say you’re ready.”

  With that, Grace had turned around and walked out, leaving them all bemused—and plenty ready to give up Cory’s quest for the perfect blanket.

  Now Green eyed Cory, fingers busy with her knitting while she listened to Renny and Katy gossip about their particular husbands, and thought about Grace’s timeline for blankets and children. He wondered if she’d realized that she would be out of the battle for the spring equinox.

  He was pretty sure she hadn’t.

  When she figured it out, keeping her in bed would be both their primary worry and the last thing on their minds.

  He was startled from his reverie by a knock at the door. Then Bracken peeked in, looking pained.

  “Beloved,” he all but whined, “your mother’s here.”

  The charming little domestic vibe that had permeated the room not five seconds before melted away like sugar in the rain.

  “Yeah, fine,” Cory sighed. Although everybody in the room heard her reluctance, Green was pretty sure that was because they all had superlative hearing.

  Her mother didn’t seem abashed in the least.

  “Cory?” she asked, coming into the room with her father in tow. “We didn’t realize you’d be laid up for Christmas.”

  Cory gave a shiny patent-leather smile that was obviously a lot of work.

  “Yup. Just a little spotting. Green says I need to rest and give the young a chance to get resettled, and I can be up and about by the time school starts in January.”

  She looked at Green for reassurance, and he nodded. Yes—she wanted those children to live with all her soul. For this, she would be compliant and eager to please. Anything, anything, just let their children be all right.

  It was both gratifying and terrifying at once.

  When she was in denial about there even being children, then she could be strong. But when she admitted her weakness? He wondered if she could find her strength without her bravado.

  He wondered if she would have the strength to stand down when they needed her to stay on the hill.

  But she wasn’t thinking of that now. She was thinking of how to keep her parents from worrying, because she didn’t want them to acknowledge anything had changed.

  Her mother, at the very least, wasn’t willing to let that happen.

  She looked at Cory and then at Green, and by the way she squinted, widened her eyes, and squinted again, he could tell she was making a conscious effort to see him as he really was and not through the glamour that her memory had left behind. Then she touched her husband’s shoulder, and he looked up and smiled.

  “Yeah, Ellen, I know. I thought you saw the same thing.”

  Cory smirked. “Way to go, Dad,” she said, holding her fist up. Her father didn’t leave her hanging, bumping knuckles with her and flaming out his fingers.

  “So the two little ones, they’re going to look like them?” he said a little wistfully.

  “Well, they are prettier than I am,” she quipped, and Green’s heart stopped.

  Cory’s father had always struck Green as a little absent. Well-meaning, but not necessarily tuned in to his daughter.

  But that one bit of self-deprecation, meant to charm, seemed to devastate the little weathered man. He grimaced and wiped under his eyes.

  “I always thought you were beautiful,” he said in earnestness. “I was hoping they’d look like you.”

  She bit her lip and looked shyly at him. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m sure there will be freckles somewhere.”

  He grinned. “That there is a load off my mind. I like freckled little kids.”

  Cory laughed self-consciously, but Green could tell she was pleased. Her parents sat down on the bed to chat for a bit, while Katy and Renny set their projects down and excused themselves to go round up some food.

  “Just not too much sugar,” Cory cautioned.

  Renny shook her head. “Martyr,” she accused.

  “I’m not doing anything to burn it off!”

  Renny made an inhuman sound and slid out the door, all fur and liquid in spite of the girl shape.

  “Mommy, you’re making babies in your stomach,” Katy admonished. “That gets Christmas cookies on Christmas Day.”

  Cory looked around her mom, making eye contact with Green. “Can I?”

  “You’re eating plenty of protein and greens,” he said mildly. “I don’t se
e why not.”

  She was actually a much stricter monitor of her diet than anybody else—it would be good to see her enjoy something.

  Bracken had remained in the doorway, auditing the conversation cautiously, and Green didn’t blame him. The last time he’d been there, it had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

  “I’ll make sure they get you some meat,” he said after an uncertain moment. And then, reluctantly, “Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick, can I get you anything to eat, or will you be dining downstairs in the formal room this afternoon?”

  “Well done, Bracken. Your mother would be proud.”

  “Shut up.”

  Green kept his laughter to himself.

  “Oh, we’d love it if we could eat in the downstairs room,” Cory’s mom said anxiously. “Is that okay, sweetheart? I just—”

  “She dressed up,” Tom Kirkpatrick said dryly. “She likes the people downstairs, even if she just figured out that they’re different people than she originally thought, and she dressed up.”

  She had indeed. Was, in fact, wearing a cream-colored sweater and Christmas earrings, and even some Christmas sparkle in her hair.

  Cory grinned at them—relieved, yes, but also appearing to be genuinely happy that they would find a place.

  “By all means, then, go downstairs and play. There should be live music and spontaneous dancing, just like last year.”

  Her mother’s smile was delectably shy. “I mostly just want to listen,” she said. Green imagined she did. The music often started out as traditionally Celtic, because that was where many of his people originated, but given how many other influences they were exposed to now, what came out was lively and modern, with just enough of the beat for Green to know from whence it sprang.

  They talked about music for a moment, and Cory’s mom asked if Cory was going to sing to the babies. Cory blushed. “Well, I’m pretty sure we’ll all sing to them,” she said, catching Green’s eye for the umpteenth time. He might have been sitting across the room, but he was definitely a part of the conversation.

  “Of course, beloved,” he said softly, and she smiled, rubbing her hand over her belly protectively.

  Katy and Renny came back with two plates piled high—one with healthy choices and one with enough sugar to rocket her into diabetes if she chose to eat it all. Her parents stood up to take their leave, but before they went, her mother dropped one last troubling bit of information in her lap.

  “Cory, I know you’re not going back to him, but if you could give Dr. Nieman a call and tell him you’re under care….” Ellen Kirkpatrick shook her head. “I don’t understand why he’s so obsessed. Janine doesn’t remember that you folks even came in, but Dr. Nieman’s been calling me, sometimes two or three times a day. It’s really unprofessional, but I can’t seem to get rid of him.”

  Cory nodded. “Mom, do you have a card or something? Give it to Green and he’ll take care of it.”

  Her dad looked at Green and grinned, showing a missing incisor but a rather puckish sense of humor that Green hadn’t seen until this moment.

  “Bet you’ve got some good moves up your sleeve, don’t you, sir?”

  Green grinned back, delighted. “Indeed I do. And if I can’t get him to go away, the vampires will most certainly be able to.”

  Cory’s father made a little O with his lean lips. “Vampires. Think they’d be up now?”

  Green shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You’ve met a few of them, actually—Grace, Marcus, Phillip—”

  Both Ellen and Tom gasped, and Cory erupted into a happy cackle.

  “Go on, both of you. Play guess the superpower—best Christmas game ever!”

  Cory’s mom paused in the act of bending down to kiss Cory’s cheek. “Do you ever have to play it?” she asked, as though seeing something important.

  Cory shook her head. “No, Mom. From the minute I first saw Arturo, I pretty much saw everyone.”

  “Oh,” Ellen said softly. “You really are special, then.”

  Then with a kiss from each, they were gone, and Cory was left to plow through the massive quantities of food Renny and Katy had brought.

  After that she was visited quietly by one or two people at a time—and Bracken was very efficient at limiting the queue to the people she was most comfortable with. She was in the middle of eating a sugar cookie and talking to Teague about what to do with the shields, because the sleep spell was still present and they weren’t sure it was still a great idea, when suddenly she set the sugar cookie down and fell asleep.

  Just that quickly, exhausted by the visitors and what was happening inside her own body.

  Teague eyed her with laconic surprise, then picked up the sugar cookie and finished it off. “You about done with that row, Katy, darlin’?” he asked softly.

  Katy nodded and finished what she was doing, then carefully tucked the needle in her work and tucked the work in a quilted bag at Cory’s feet. Renny muttered to herself, obviously in the throes of turning a sock heel, and Teague waited for a hushed moment until she’d packed her bag as well.

  He stood up and took Katy’s hand, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You ready to go save Jacky? He’s downstairs in the were common room having a drinking contest with Max.”

  “What are they drinking for?” Katy asked, surprised. “No one gets drunk here! How do you know anybody wins?”

  “They throw up,” Renny said in disgust. “Max is, like, king of this game.”

  Katy’s eyes got big. “I say we don’t go,” she said, pursing her lips and shaking her head. “I say, if Jacky is stupid enough to do that, he deserves to come home and find us in bed.”

  Then Teague’s eyes got big, and he started to laugh—obviously pleased and appalled at the same time. Renny shushed him, and together they moved quietly out of the room. Teague stopped, letting the women go first, then turned to Green.

  “She needed this—the quiet Christmas. Thanks for letting me visit.”

  Green smiled benevolently. Teague was continually a surprise—rough-hewn, angry, hurt, and Galahad to the gentle heart of him.

  “You’re on her short list, mate. Even Bracken let you in!”

  “That boy didn’t let his own mother in,” Katy said, sounding both admiring and appalled.

  “That woman is busy,” Teague grumbled, and Green took “busy” to mean too busy for the recovering queen of the realm.

  With that, Teague turned to close the door, but Green stopped him.

  “Teague, I’ll be out in a moment. Could you send Nicky or Bracken in? I think there’s something that needs to be dealt with quite soon.”

  Teague shrugged. “Sure, boss. Anything else?”

  Oh, this was unfortunate. “Yes—if you could perhaps postpone your liaison with your wife, Teague, I think you need to be in on this.”

  Teague rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t serious, you know. She’s going to be there with a cold cloth and glass of water, making sure he’s aw bedda, wight?”

  Green laughed. “Right. Thank you. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  He closed his laptop, having finished the few business matters necessary to have a pleasant holiday, and sat down on the bed, shifting Cory from her back to her side and tucking the pillow under her head.

  He was pulling the blanket up to her chin when she shifted around, making herself more comfy. “Mmm….” She grabbed his hand as he fussed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to crash on everybody.”

  “No worries, beloved. It’s been a busy day.”

  “Remember last year?”

  He remembered, all right. “You made yourself sick. You were exhausted, and you ran out barefoot in the frost to give Teague and Jack and Katy their house.”

  “I was thinking about when we made love the night before that,” she said, but her voice was still murky with sleep.

  “Yes, well, I was thinking I’m just as glad you’re resting today.”

  She breathed deeply, and for a moment he thought she was back under. Then—�
��You heard. You’re worried.”

  Yes. Yes, indeed. “I did, and I am. You’re good at the mind-wipe, luv. It was your first talent. I’m not sure if it’s because you were in a hurry, or if he just has such a connection to the babies—”

  “He was a prick,” she mumbled. “No imagination, all scientific curiosity….”

  He laughed silently. “Shh. We’ll talk about him later. Sleep now.” He probed gently with his mind and found she was completely out, no help from him necessary. He’d just stood up when Bracken came in, looking ready for rest and carrying a full plate of honey tarts—his personal favorite, probably made by his mother.

  “You look done in,” Green said gently. Bracken smiled, handing him a tart.

  Green nibbled gratefully, using the opportunity to move closer. Ah, Bracken always smelled so good. Between Green, Brack, and Nicky, they were a sunny meadow, a bedrock mountain, a bird surfing the wind. No wonder Cory was so comfortable between the lot of them—together they were the day and the wild, the earth and the ether of the hills in which they lived.

  Bracken chuckled in a sleepy, sated way and moved a little closer, rubbing his nose down Green’s jaw line and blowing playfully in his ear.

  “I need peace,” he whispered. “My lovers in my bed.”

  Ah… yes. Cory had been abed for five days, and they’d been so busy. Sex was necessary to all of them, even if Cory simply lay and watched and stroked their brows.

  “Yes, Bracken Brine,” Green whispered, tilting his head back and appreciating Bracken’s lips along the side of his throat. “I need.”

  “Good,” Bracken took Green’s chin between his long fingers and turned Green toward him for a potent, feeding kiss. Green groaned softly, enjoying the taste of honey tarts and Bracken’s strength. Bracken pulled back and smiled, looking evil as only he could manage when talking about sex. “How long has it been since someone took care of you, leader?” he asked softly.