by Debora Geary
Not comfort this time. Fuel.
She looked around the room, hating what she was about to do. Cursing the universe for trying to rip at the people who did family in a way everyone else only dreamed of. Love did not deserve this.
Let it go. Retha ate her own sandwich with determined bites. I’ve beat my head against the brick wall of injustice for longer than you’ve been alive, daughter mine. It won’t help—it’ll just leave you with a sore head.
Lauren was very sure the woman stroking Ginia’s hair knew what was coming. And resisted the temptation to lean hard on her strength. That wouldn’t help either.
Moe had been right. There was only one way to do this. Fast and hard and puking.
She set down her sandwich, each small movement weirdly amplified. And, getting to her feet, walked over to the girls and knelt down. Nell was certain the image was Mia. Lauren wasn’t sure of anything. Carefully, she looked at each of them in turn. “My crystal ball is talking to me again.”
Three sets of shoulders firmed—and the eyes of the adults behind them turned dangerous.
There was no lack of guardians in this family, of the angel or warrior varieties.
Lauren spared a special look for the man with Mia on his lap. Téo was Sullivan by love, not by blood, just as she was.
That’s how we recruit our best, sent Retha briskly. Now tell us what we’re dealing with.
There was no way Lauren was pushing out the orb’s image. Not this time. Nell had seen, and Daniel—he’d insisted. And Caro and Retha had picked up the edges, because they had fearsome mind powers and deep love and Aervyn’s barriers were a mess.
But no one else needed the nightmare. The words would be bad enough. Lauren looked at her three beautiful, bold nieces again. “It shows one of you, surrounded by fire and flames. Really big, mean, out-of-control fire.” She stopped, choking back the puke, and rasped out the last words. “The fire is hurting you.”
Breath hissed all over the room.
And then the mind stampede. Fighters, seeking weapons.
Lauren held up a hand. Not yet. War might come, but it wasn’t here yet. “Just like with Nat and Lizard, we don’t know exactly what the orb means.”
Shay nodded slowly. “It looked really sad for Auntie Nat, but she got Benny.”
Nat slid into place beside Lauren on the floor. “It called me to a journey. A hard one. And one that was really important.”
Two of their quietest, deepest thinkers, already looking for a path around fear.
Ginia’s eyes were glued to her yogini aunt’s. “You think it’s calling us this time. To do something hard and important.”
Nat nodded slowly, her breath audible. Compelling. “I do.”
Lauren sat in quiet awe. Every person in the room was beginning to breathe in and out with Nat.
See? Retha’s mindvoice was soaked in love. The very best of us.
Mia wiggled in Téo’s lap, restless. “I thought Lauren said the orb only showed one of us.”
Nat smiled. “One of my favorite stories about your uncles is when they found that really big cliff over the ocean in Hawaii.”
Mia grinned. It was a well-known family tale. “They were eight, and Uncle Devin wanted to jump, but Gramma Retha said no.”
Lauren felt her husband’s inner laughter. That isn’t what his mom had said—she’d been far smarter than that.
Shay’s eyes were gleaming now. “She said they could only jump if they all did it together.”
“She was hoping sanity would prevail,” said Matt dryly.
Laughter came from several places in the room. Caro snorted. “Being more sane than Jamie and Devin doesn’t qualify you for sainthood, Matthew Sullivan.”
Nat winked at her nieces. “And what happened next?”
“They jumped.” Mia picked up the thread of the story. “But only after Uncle Jamie warmed up the water and Uncle Matt made sure there weren’t any big rocks underneath.”
“Hey.” Dev rolled his eyes from his corner of the couch. “What about me? Am I just the big lug who dragged them both off the cliff?”
Nat turned his direction, eyes fierce and voice soft. “No. You’re the one who helped them to be brave. You all got to fly that day because you worked together. Three parts of one whole.”
Lauren felt the bonds of brotherhood snap into place, tight and solid and inviolable.
And right behind them, the younger trio of sisterhood did exactly the same.
The applause in the room was inaudible, but it shook the very foundations of the house. Whatever they were fighting, Natalia Sullivan had just landed the first blow.
A sneaky, tough, street-smart one.
-o0o-
Nell cast a glance at Daniel. He read their girls as well as she did, mind magic or not. And Auntie Nat had just straightened all their backbones a good six inches with one simple, potent reminder.
What touched one of them touched the three of them.
It was a damn good thing for the rest of them to remember too.
Right. Retha’s voice was dry and amused. Because we forget that all the time.
Nell hid a grin. That sarcasm had weathered a whole lot of Sullivan family storms. The image of flames flashed into her head again and she sobered. This storm was coming for Mia.
Probably. Retha was not at all amused anymore, but no less steady. She’s always been your child of fire. Power goes where it’s welcomed.
Nell raised an eyebrow. There was plenty of magic in this family that showed up uninvited. Including one of her mother’s talents. She eyed the woman who sat braiding flowers into Ginia’s hair. Have you seen anything about this? Retha’s precog was spotty, but when it pertained to family, it hit the mark more often than not.
No. A quick mental headshake. But I can tell you this. I’ve seen the three of them as young women. Standing side by side, united in victory.
There was the tiniest hint of a giggle at the end of that thought. Nell pinned the world’s most troublemaking grandma with a look. Victorious at what, exactly?
Precog isn’t always that specific, dear. Now the giggle was almost audible. Retha shrugged. I don’t know for certain. But I’d hazard a guess that about a decade from now, those three are going to be the winners of the great summer water balloon fight. And you and Daniel are going to be very, very wet.
The mental image that came with the words suggested everyone was going to be soaked. But it wasn’t that which buoyed Nell’s soul. It was the dripping-wet trio standing atop the backyard fort, triumph blazing from every pore.
It’s no more certain than the orb’s message, sent Retha gently.
Maybe not. But it did entirely different things to the fear riding herd in her belly. At least I understand that one. Lauren’s crystal ball seemed to get its kicks from being as hard to understand as possible.
Not so very hard. Retha picked up another flower for Ginia’s hair. Start with the obvious. Odds are, one of these three is going to be a fire witch. And that’s something this family knows how to handle.
They did. Nell let the voice of reason and common sense calm her down. And glanced at Jamie—he had the lightest touch with power scans. “Can you check the girls, see if you see any signs of new channels developing?”
He started to nod—and then stopped, eyes heading quietly to the blonde trio ensconced on various laps.
It took Nell a moment longer to catch the unease. Not one of her girls had moved, but all three of them were squirming inside. Oh, hell. Her girls knew the signs of emergence as well as anyone in Witch Central—and fire wasn’t something you messed around with. Nell eyed her daughters. “Why haven’t I heard about this until now?”
Three united faces. Three silent ones.
Daniel squeezed Nell’s hand. A quiet signal—and not one that she needed. Something more than new magic was brewing under that silent surface. Not the time to swing a wild mama sword.
It’s got something to do with Shay, sent Lauren carefully.
That was as far as a mind-witch aunt was going to intrude, but Nell appreciated the heads-up. And it wasn’t a surprise. Her girls might be differentiating themselves a little on the surface these days, but at the core, they were three, bonded since the beginning of time. They would fight anything that shook that bond tooth and nail—just like her brothers had.
“Well, we know it now,” said Moira briskly, leaning forward to pick up the teapot and the dropped thread of common sense. “Tell us how you’ve been feeling, Mia dear.”
Everyone in the room was very familiar with that tone. Daniel was the only one brave enough to chuckle at their elder witch, however.
Which did the trick. Mia flashed a quick grin her dad—and then faced Moira again, shoulders a little straighter. Balance found in one brief moment of solidarity.
Something old healers knew very well. Nell sent a very tightly channeled bit of gratitude to the old woman with the wise green eyes and the voice that could snap anyone back onto solid ground.
Moira smiled into her tea. Message received.
Devin, who had missed none of it, tossed a pillow at his niece. “So you’re waking up hot, huh? Scorched any sheets yet?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “No. I just get hot.”
Jamie landed the next pillow. “Any weird tingly stuff in your arms when you wake up?”
Both pillows launched on a return journey, one at each uncle. “No. I bet it’s only really little magic. So I can light the million candles on your birthday cakes.”
Jamie smirked at Dev. “She just called you old, bro.”
Nell knew what the uncle show was trying to do under the cover of the impromptu pillow fight. But she also knew that Mia lived facing outward. She noticed everything around her, but very little of what happened on the inside. Shay was the triplet with the rich inner landscape, and Ginia walked easily between inner and outer worlds. Mia was going to need some help reporting how she felt.
Nell readied a message for her healer daughter—and then saw Ginia reach for her sister’s hand. One eleven-year-old witch, several steps ahead of her mama.
“She doesn’t have any channel burn.” Ginia met Moira’s eyes, all signs of squirming gone. A girl owning her choices. “I’d know if she did.”
“Of course you would, sweetling.” Forgiveness, from an old witch who gave it easily. “Any echoing or ebbing?”
Nell listened as Moira led Ginia through the list of emergence signs, every mind in the room checking them off as she spoke. No one needed to hear the list—and everyone did. A reminder, and a very gentle way to lead Mia into the sensations of her own body.
And a ritual that was settling them all down. The answers were almost all negative. A little heat, a little strangeness. And nothing at all when Aervyn threw some tightly controlled fireworks at the ceiling. Either a power very early in its development, or one that would be very weak.
Don’t bet on the latter, sent Lauren quietly.
Nell pushed away the terrible image of her daughter in flames. They would fight what was in front of them, not what some senile old ball wanted them to see. Right now she’s just a girl with magic unfurling. The Sullivans had fire witches aplenty—they knew how to do this.
“I’ll take the early morning shift,” said Retha, smiling at her granddaughter. “I’m up at the crack of dawn these days anyhow.”
Mia grinned. “That’s because you need extra time to plan all your troublemaking.”
It was the standing family joke—and it planted their emergent witch firmly in the care of a woman who had sat at the bedside of more brand-new fire witches than anyone alive. The hours just before waking were the most dangerous, and a mind witch would feel things stirring first.
Nell sent her mom the look that would say everything it needed to.
The rest of the family was already sorting out shifts. Jamie glared when someone suggested he might stay home—Benny still woke often in the night. “People did round-the-clock duty on Kenna for almost two years.”
“Fine.” Devin leaned back, deceptively lazy. “Benny and Kenna can come sleep at our house when you’re on shift.”
Lizard, Josh at her side, raised an eyebrow. “We’ll arm wrestle you.”
That cracked up the three girls on the couch, and most of the rest of the room, too.
Nell wasn’t so sure she’d bet against Lizard on that one. The woman was sneaky and devious, and well aware of how to use her puny status to her advantage.
Hey! Lizard’s mind glare would have been more effective if it hadn’t been punctuated by giggles.
Nell breathed out. The circles were forming, and they would be far deeper by nightfall. Some would take care of Mia, and some would take care of whatever else needed doing.
Whatever grew in her girl, they would be ready for it.
-o0o-
The days were warm now, but the evenings were still cool. Especially if you were hanging off the side of an ocean cliff. Lauren climbed into the fantastic, magical hot pool that ostensibly belonged to her husband. Fortunately, he was very good at sharing. The cliff top boasted a small changing hut now, and it saw a very steady stream of visitors.
Tonight, however, they were alone.
She swirled her hands in the water, watching the shimmer of the bioluminescent glow track the motions of her fingers. The light was blue tonight—probably Jamie’s work. When Sierra or Lizzie refreshed the spell, the twinkling tended more to rainbow colors.
Lauren leaned her head against the cliffside, enjoying the cool contrast. The stars were out in full force this evening—Dev would be enjoying his swim. She grinned. Only insane people went for moonlight swims in the Pacific Ocean, even in June.
Tonight, he swam alone, which was unusual. The lure of a dip in the hot pool afterward meant that even some of the non-water witches had taken to playing in the waves at odd hours of the night.
So far, none of them were realtors.
Lauren slid over to the oceanside edge of the pool and peered out into the moonlight, smiling as she spotted her husband, arms pulling him steadily through the glistening path the moon cast on the waters below.
No mermaid antics tonight, just a man entirely one with the power of the ocean. Devin was a glorious swimmer, but it was more than that. He exerted a gravitational attraction on the water—a man pulling the sea into his hands.
It almost made a certain realtor want to take a moonlight dip.
Devin reached shallower waters, where the waves started to break over random rocks, and flipped over, bobbing in the roughness and staring at the moon. And then he turned, eyes finding hers.
Not a merman. Just the passionate, exuberant, rock-solid man she loved.
The stresses of the day washed off Lauren’s skin in a way that even magical waters hadn’t been able to manage. She leaned out a little further over the pool’s edge, seeking his mind. No point trying to shout over the waves. Want a lift up? There were porting spells for everything now, including one to pull swimmers from the sea.
Nah. He was already reaching for the steep and slippery rocks at the base of the cliff. I haven’t worn off all my nervous energy yet.
She grinned. I can think of some other ways to use that up.
His mind laughter shook more of the stress crud loose from her soul. I always have enough energy for that. He climbed, watching her now, part lustful intent, part inspection.
Uh, oh. For someone who didn’t read minds, Devin Sullivan didn’t miss much. Lauren opened her mindlink a little wider, letting him see. I’ve let go of most of the clutter.
“Most” wasn’t going to satisfy him.
Dev swung up over the side of the pool, an act of gravity defiance she dearly hoped no one else tried to replicate, and reached for her, ready to tackle whatever she couldn’t shake off on her own.
She laughed and squirmed as he pulled her into his ocean-cold chest. “What, you can’t dunk yourself and warm up first?”
He grinned. “I thought you had some ide
as for that.”
There was more than one way to chase away the voices in her head. She touched his face with her hand—and then felt his mind shift to a rueful chuckle.
Just before the splash that suggested someone else had decided to come for a soak.
Jamie, a squirming Benny in his arms, winced as he spied the two of them. “Sorry. Should have knocked first, huh?”
Devin’s splash neatly soaked his brother—and left the toddler entirely unscathed. “Don’t worry. I know how to get even.”
The new arrival looked highly amused. “Get in line.”
Yeah. Probably not a lot of privacy with a couple of two-year-olds in your bed. Lauren grinned and shifted her plans for the next hour. She sat down across from Jamie, ready to help Benny be a motorboat.
And glancing over at her husband, she had to smile. Their best water witch could easily be in the direct line of fire of whatever came for Mia. And he was already so relaxed, he was practically asleep.
She knew that could change in an instant. Life very rarely found Devin Sullivan unprepared.
But he also very rarely let it cause him grief in the other moments. Lauren immersed herself in his ability to let go as deeply as anyone she knew.
And held out her hands to catch the incoming, rumbling small boy. In this moment, she was a motorboat catcher.
“Auntie” was a long and varied job description.
Chapter 3
Lauren mentally ran through her list of curse words. She needed new ones. A whole bunch of new ones. One for each stitch.
Dev’s eyes twinkled her direction, hands knitting merrily. “You’re still holding your leader yarn in a death grip.”
Whatever. She glared at his funky blue square, forming under his fingers without any attention from his eyes whatsoever. Showoff. “Fuzzball won’t care.” The squares from today’s knitting lesson were optimistically intended for a cat bed. Assuming she could manage to produce something that remotely resembled a square—at the moment, it looked more like a bloated bow tie.
She wasn’t the only one getting advice from happily knitting dudes.
“You’re thinking too hard.” Aervyn sat beside Mia on Lauren’s couch, knitting earnestly and coaching his sister on the finer points of letting fire power flow into her yarn. Moira sat on Mia’s other side, periodically taking over someone’s needles and fixing issues.
