by Ashlyn Chase
Gabe couldn’t help thinking about what his mother had said, even though it was ridiculous. Me, sensitive? That’s a laugh and a half.
As the family gathered around the table, Gabe’s mother directed the seating. Naturally, Misty landed right next to Gabe. That was completely unnecessary. He was acutely aware of her every move, every inflection in her voice. But now he had to smell her perfume too. She smelled like gardenias, in the middle of winter no less.
He tried to think of her as the same little girl he knew growing up. But he could no longer see her that way. She was someone he barely knew, but at the same time, he knew her too well. His mind was all jumbled up. With his mother pushing him toward her and Parker insisting he keep his hands off, he was doomed to make a mistake, one way or the other.
Shit. Dante was flirting with her. And he was glancing at Gabe for his reaction. He wished he could kick Dante under the table. But with his luck, he’d get the wrong set of legs.
He heard his name from her lips and pulled himself back to what Misty was saying.
“Gabe thinks I should find a new job.” She turned her face toward him, but her expression was impossible to read.
“That might not be a bad idea. What would you like to do instead?” Antonio asked.
“That’s just it. I don’t know what kind of job I can get that I’d like any better. I’ve found I’m pretty good with finances. I wanted to teach dance when I first moved back to the city, but when I checked out the dance studios, none I’d like to work for had an opening.”
“You could try again,” Gabriella suggested. “Maybe something has opened up.”
“Actually, I called around again and only found one with a possible opening. It’s in Roxbury.”
Gabe sucked in a breath. “No fucking way are you working in Roxbury.”
“Gabriel!” Gabriella exclaimed. “Watch your language.”
Noah, who was sitting on his other side, snickered.
Gabe turned on him. “You think that’s funny? I suppose you think her working in Roxbury is a great idea?”
Noah leaned back and put his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything, Bro.”
“Misty, pay no attention to my sons,” Gabriella said. “Of course you can work wherever you want, but remember your safety is important to all of us. I’m sure Gabe has responded to many emergencies in Roxbury, and it is a rough neighborhood.”
“I think it was named the neighborhood with the most drive-by shootings,” Luca said. “You could get caught in the cross fire in a gang war there.”
Misty’s eyes betrayed a deep sadness. “I never said I was going to take the job. I mean, it’s tempting. They have a new Center for the Arts, and I’ve heard there are some wonderful things going on there. The pay is good, and I have rent—”
“Gabe will cover your rent,” Gabriella quickly interjected.
Gabe’s jaw dropped. “Ma? Can I see you in the kitchen?”
“No, you may not. If you can’t afford it, we’ll all chip in.”
Misty straightened her spine. “No! I can’t let you do that. It’s very kind of you, but I’ll be fine.”
Gabe stood. “In that case, Misty, may I see you in the kitchen?”
* * *
“Uh-oh. Misty’s in trouble,” Luca chanted.
“Shut up, squirt,” Gabe fired back.
But Misty did feel like she was in trouble. Parker had asked her to go to Gabe for advice or anything else she needed and, moreover, to listen to him. It was for Parker’s sake that she followed Gabe into the kitchen.
When Gabe turned around, Misty folded her arms. “I wasn’t really going to take a job in Roxbury, you know.”
Gabe let out a deep breath. “Well, thank God. I had hoped you’d have more sense than that. Why did you even bring it up if you weren’t considering it?”
Misty shrugged. “Your mom asked if I had looked around.”
Gabe was quiet for a moment, then he strolled up to her and whispered in her ear, “I’ll gladly pay your rent so you can look for another job, but I’d rather my family not know about it.”
Startled, she gazed at him. “I can’t let you—”
He put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. You have to whisper. They have very sensitive hearing, and I’m sure they’re eavesdropping.”
She narrowed her eyes and whispered, “I don’t need you to take care of me. I’ll have to give two weeks’ notice anyway. I’d rather not quit until I have another job to go to.”
“But that may take several months.”
“Then it takes several months.”
“I’ve made money with investments and can afford to help,” he said.
The two of them just stared at each other, unmoving and unrelenting. Challenging each other. Daring each other.
At last, Gabe grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him. Then he bent down and kissed her, fervently. She grabbed onto his shirt and gave as good as she got.
* * *
He didn’t know how long they’d been in their desperate lip-lock when someone cleared his throat. It barely registered in Gabe’s mind, until he remembered his family was probably waiting for them.
He let go and whirled around. He was barely aware of Misty stumbling into him and righting herself.
Gabe’s father stood there with his arms crossed. A smile started at the corner of his mouth, but he quickly schooled his expression.
“We’re waiting for you. Are you through…um, telling Misty what to do with her life? Or whatever it was I just witnessed.”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Let’s eat.” He strode back to the dining room, followed by Misty and his father.
When everyone was seated again, Gabriella said, “Gabe, would you please say grace?”
Gabe’s eyebrows shot up. “Grace? Is it Thanksgiving?” Since when did they say grace on an ordinary day?
His mother just stared at him.
“Okay, fine.” He folded his hands and bowed his head. The rest of the dinner guests followed suit. “Good food. Good meat. Good God, let’s eat.”
Gabriella let out a long sigh. “I apologize for my son, Misty. What can I say? I did my best.”
His brothers chuckled.
“Hey, you did a good job raising us, Mom,” Gabe said.
Antonio reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand. “She certainly did. Any five-foot-two woman who can have seven grown boys quaking in their boots is a pretty remarkable mother.”
Gabriella laughed. “Since when do my sons quake in their boots?”
“Never,” three voices said at once.
“Right. So, getting back to you, Misty,” Gabriella said. “How is Parker? Have you heard from him?”
“Yes. We’ve been able to talk several times. He’s still stateside right now.”
Gabe wondered why he had to keep an eye on Misty if Parker was so available. As if she sensed his question, Misty continued, “It all depends on our schedules and whether he’s out on training maneuvers.”
“Oh, good. I imagine he worries about you while he’s away,” Gabriella said.
Gabe realized Parker probably didn’t know how often he’d be allowed to speak to his sister after he deployed. Maybe because they were the only family each other had, the military would let them stay in close contact. It didn’t excuse Gabe from his responsibilities, but it eased the tension a little bit.
“Yeah, I know he worries about me, but I’m more worried for him.”
Gabe concentrated on his mother’s pasta primavera and let the others carry the conversation. Noah talked about a fire he had responded to in Dorchester. Luca was asked about his classes. He had learned not to say much about his criminal justice major, but he was able to elaborate on his general studies at Northeastern University.
Miguel and Sandra talked about a vacation
they were planning. The two of them were going to St. Kitts for their anniversary in February. Ten years. Everyone seemed to latch onto that topic with excitement.
Gabe hadn’t gone away on vacation in a long time. And now that he had Misty to take care of, he doubted he’d be going anywhere real soon. Just another reason why commitments and responsibilities were not for him. He didn’t like being tied down.
The only upside to staying home was that his bank account had grown exponentially. He’d made a few investments in the stock market, just to test the waters, and had been able to pick good stocks with growth potential. He liked knowing where his money went, so he didn’t go in for those money markets that some unknown management company looked after.
Gabe did have the money to support someone else, but that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“You’ll have to tell us how you like St. Kitts,” his father was saying. “I’ve heard it’s a great place to retire.” He glanced at his wife, and she rolled her eyes.
It was already looking suspicious that his father had retired twenty years ago and barely looked the part. Thirty-two years of service would have made him fifty years old when he retired. In truth, he was much older than eighteen when he’d started. Now, he should be over seventy, but he didn’t look a day over fifty.
He flew on occasion just to age his human body. In bird form, a phoenix aged like a normal bird—sort of like a hawk. About two months equaled birth to maturity. He did not allow his sons the same luxury. He was so worried they’d get caught, he’d forbidden them to shift.
Antonio was getting antsy. He wanted to move to the Caribbean and retire there, like, tomorrow. Gabriella was human and getting on in years, but she refused to leave until all her sons were happily married. It was a stalemate, and Gabe guessed a third option didn’t exist.
His mother could die before all her sons had found the kind of mates who would accept their paranormal identities. But she would die trying. And she wanted grandchildren—a lot of them. Her two oldest sons had married dragons, and dragons could only reproduce with other dragons. So they were out. And Miguel, third in line, was now out of the running too.
Miguel and Sandra had met in high school and had stayed together through thick and thin. Sandra had been shocked but quickly accepted his alternate form when he revealed it to her. Recently, they had lost a child. Sandra had miscarried in her second trimester. She’d had to have a hysterectomy, so more children were not in the cards.
That put the pressure on Gabe. And he’d bet his mother was already picturing Misty in a long white gown. Then a maternity dress. Gabriella was a notorious matchmaker. Well, she was going to be disappointed again.
He looked over at Dante and Noah. They were twenty-four and twenty-two, still kicking up their heels and having all the fun that young single guys have. They both gazed at Misty with rapt attention as she talked about the islands she had visited on a cruise.
“Jamaica and the Dominican Republic were considered dicey, and we were told not to leave the port areas without a guide. But the other islands seemed plenty safe.”
“I’ve heard all kinds of things about crime in the Caribbean,” Luca said. “Especially if tourists go off on their own.”
Sandra nodded. “Some of those countries are pretty poor, making those who can afford a cruise or a vacation natural targets.”
Miguel put his arm around Sandra’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, babe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know you won’t.” They smiled at each other and exchanged a quick kiss.
How the heck did people do it? Invest so much in another person who at some point was going to let you down or leave you? Even if their “till death do you part” vows did hold out, his human mother and sister-in-law would eventually break the hearts of everyone around this table.
Phoenixes could live as long as five hundred years. They could die as humans, but if bathed in fire right away, they would reincarnate. About a dozen reincarnations is the max, but he hadn’t known anyone to try it more than three or four times.
When an elder needed to disappear before local humans became suspicious of their longevity, they’d take the opportunity to start over in a younger body. The phoenix physiology was similar to a hawk’s when in bird form or human when in that form. As shifters with a choice, they usually stayed human to prolong their longevity.
They didn’t have any formal ceremony around reincarnations, but their families would generally help them with a controlled fire and let them go. The exception was when it happened as an accident while they were still in their prime. Then families would have a home base to fly to. The brownstone in Boston’s South End had been his family’s headquarters since his great-grandparents bought the place new in the 1800s.
Now, Gabe’s great-grandparents headed a phoenix shifter clan in Arizona. Great-Grandad had become sick of New England winters—much like his father was now. With no female phoenixes born in nearly two hundred years, his grand- and great-grandfathers had married humans. Gabe tried not to think about the heartbreak they must have gone through when they lost their spouses.
His father and brother Miguel had to know this would happen to them. How did they expect to live two, three, or four hundred years as widowers? The concept just boggled Gabe’s mind. They say to love and lose is better than not loving at all.
He disagreed.
* * *
Misty hadn’t seen Gabe in a week. She wouldn’t have minded his company as she waited in the doctor’s office, trying to read a magazine. She’d read the same paragraph in the same article three times.
“Miss Carlisle?” The nurse standing at the doorway with a chart in her hands smiled at her. Was that a smile? It looked more like a grimace. Maybe she was having one of those days.
Misty gathered up her purse and left the magazine on the side table, then followed the nurse down the corridor until she stopped at a scale.
“Oh,” she groaned. “Do we have to do this?”
The nurse looked her up and down. “What are you? A size six?”
She was a four but said, “I haven’t been getting much exercise lately.”
After a chilly silence, she stepped on the scale and then followed the nurse into an exam room. Some high-tech equipment on a rolling stand nearby produced a little clip that went on her finger. Then the nurse waved some kind of wand near her forehead without touching it. Boy, the city had some crazy medical toys they didn’t use in the suburbs.
“Well, your vital signs look okay.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“Change into the gown, and have a seat on the exam table. Dr. Warren will be with you shortly.”
The nurse shut the door behind her and left Misty alone.
She knew the drill. Put on the unfashionable garment with the gaping opening in back and climb up on the cold exam table where a sheet of white paper would protect her from the last patient’s germs. Now she didn’t even have a magazine.
After she’d read all the signs stuck to bulletin boards and decided she had at least half of the illnesses they were describing, the doctor finally walked in.
“Good morning. I’m Dr. Warren.” He extended his hand for a handshake. It was cold, just like everything else in this place. “What seems to be bothering you today”—he glanced at the chart in his hand—“Misty?”
“I’m having some weird symptoms. It’s probably nothing, but they’re not going away.”
“What kind of symptoms?”
“I seem to be a klutz. This is new for me. I was a dancer and always had a good sense of where my feet were. But lately, I’m stumbling or losing my balance for no reason.”
The doctor smiled. “Anything else besides a little klutziness? Any tingling or numbness?”
“Yes. Occasionally in my feet. I just thought it was because it was cold outside.”
“Sometimes.”
“Hmmm… Any problems with your vision?”
“Yeah, now that you mention it. I was thinking about seeing an eye doctor. My vision went kind of spotty once.”
“Hmmm. Floaters?”
This guy’s hmmms were starting to cause her concern.
“Is anything wrong, Doctor?”
“I need to finish the exam before I come to any conclusions.” He rechecked her blood pressure the old-fashioned way, with the stethoscope and cuff, then used the other items on the wall and looked in her eyes and ears. He checked her reflexes with his little rubber hammer, then listened to her lungs with his stethoscope.
“Hop down. I want to see you walk down the hall,” he said.
As he was opening the door, she stopped. “You want me to go out there with my butt hanging out of this gown?”
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “No, you can get dressed now. Come out when you’re ready.” He closed the door behind him.
Seriously? That’s it?
A few minutes later, she had sashayed down the hall with this man undoubtedly checking out her bum. Then she had to do the heel-to-toe walk. Naturally, she didn’t lose her balance. Why was it that whenever she went to the doctor, the symptom she was going for disappeared by the time she got there?
She had to walk the hall again, and when she reached the end, she turned a little too fast. Suddenly, everything shifted to the left. A nearby nurse grabbed her arm and steadied her.
The doctor’s facial expression immediately changed. A slight Mona Lisa smile turned into a suspicious frown.
When she made it back to him, he ushered her into the exam room again.
“What is it, Doctor?”
“It’s too early to say definitively. I still need to rule out a few possibilities.” He asked her a few more questions about her general health, looked over her thin record, and scratched his chin.
“C’mon. Tell me something. Am I dying?”
He smiled briefly and said, “No. You’re not dying. Well, no faster than the rest of us, anyway. But I am concerned. It could be a number of things. Blood tests will tell us if it’s something like Lyme disease, a group of diseases known as collagen vascular diseases, certain rare hereditary disorders. You’re on the young side for MS, but its onset can start as early as age twenty-two.”
