The Gift: A Christmas Novella (Mageri Series Book 6)

by Dannika Dark

Chapter 7

  Silver and Logan

  That night, I began prepping cold dishes like potato salad, Caesar salad, and deviled eggs. Max kept slinking around my legs in hopes that I’d drop something on the floor, so I locked him in the cat room to keep all his black hairs away from the food. Logan was still over at Leo’s, gathering the desserts and taking them downstairs.

  When a knock sounded at the door, I tossed the knife in the sink and wiped off my hands. My hair smelled like pie, my clothes had mayo stains, and my feet were killing me. When I opened the front door, my gaze drifted down to an adorable little blonde in a red-and-black dress.

  “Rose, you’re not supposed to be up here by yourself. Your daddy told you not to ride the elevators alone.”

  “It’s okay. He gave me permission,” she said. Rose had a better vocabulary than Sunny’s twins, mostly because she was always trying to imitate the way her father spoke. “I have a present for you.”

  I noticed her hands were hiding something behind her back, and those big brown eyes were sparkling with anticipation. Rose handed me a thick piece of red construction paper folded in half. On the front, she’d colored a green Christmas tree and tried to draw a star at the top, which looked more like a nuclear explosion.

  When I opened it up, the inside simply said: I LOVE YOU. The letters were distorted and extra big. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and I bent down and gave her a big hug.

  “This is so pretty, Rose. Thank you.”

  She kissed my cheek. “Thank you for all of Christmas. I can’t wait for pie!”

  I smiled and straightened her dress. “You look so pretty. I know Zoë and Knox are excited to come over in the morning and play with you. Aunt Sunny said they’re going to sleep over tomorrow night. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  She nodded excitedly.

  Even though Knox was rambunctious and Zoë had a gregarious personality, Rose loved being around kids her age. They were as close as she could have to cousins or siblings, and since Rose was homeschooled, it was important for her to have that interaction with other kids. Otherwise she might end up becoming a little Justus, and I could only handle one of him.

  I held up the card. “I’m going to put this in a very special place where everyone can see it. You better go back home before your daddy starts to worry.”

  “Bye, Aunt Silver!”

  Her black shoes tapped on the floor as she ran back into the elevator. Hopefully she’d end up on the right floor. Rose knew her numbers, but sometimes she went to Uncle Levi’s house to watch TV. Whenever she knocked on our door, Logan wound up escorting her home. Even though we lived in a secure building, he worried whenever he caught her alone. Justus and Page didn’t have security locks to prevent her from leaving their apartment, and sometimes she snuck out.

  I glanced out the windows into the darkness. Our view from the fifth floor was usually of twinkling lights in the distance, but the snow was so heavy that it was impossible to see across the street. I strode into our bedroom—just a large mattress on the floor in front of a window with a scenic view—and lay down on the bed. I held Rose’s card close to my heart and wept against my pillow. Maybe it was the stress of the holidays, or maybe it was standing over a hot oven all day, but a flood of tears came, accompanied by a gripping pain in my chest, reminding me of how close we’d come to getting a child only to lose the opportunity.

  How long would Logan be willing to endure this? I didn’t even want to let myself hope anymore. Maybe he needed a child more than I did, and that thought hurt the most. We were kindred spirits, but what if that wasn’t enough to keep us together? Despite every reassuring word he’d given me, I couldn’t help but wonder if our love could weather this kind of storm.

  It wasn’t even a storm; it was more like a blizzard.

  Little Rose standing at the door with that precious card reminded me of all the cards I’d never have on my own fridge. I’d never know what it was like to have a little one call for me in the middle of the night, to hear the sound of giggles while I sang, to give butterfly kisses and have tiny tears to wipe away. Being an aunt was a great experience, but it couldn’t replace motherhood. A life without children flashed before my eyes and rocked me to the core.

  The door flew open and hit the wall. A dark shadow entered the room and crawled across the bed, his warm body smothering my legs and a purr thrumming in his chest to console me.

  I sniffed and peered down. “Levi, what are you doing here?”

  He didn’t speak.

  That’s how loyal the Cross brothers were. The scent of my devastation must have been potent.

  I stroked my hand through his short hair and let him comfort me. Normally I wasn’t the kind of girl who let a man drape himself over my legs, but I respected Chitahs, and this was a testament of how powerful our bond was as a family.

  “Silver?” Logan entered the room and took in the scene. “Levi, leave us alone.”

  Levi quietly looked over his shoulder.

  “Go, brother. I need to speak with my female.”

  Levi slowly rose and patted my foot before leaving the room, his eyes downcast.

  When the door closed, Logan approached the right side of the bed and sat down beside me. He smoothed the tangled hair away from my face and held my gaze. “What troubles you?”

  I handed him the card, and he opened it up.

  After a thoughtful pause, Logan set the card on a short table by the bed. “I have failed you as a mate.”

  “What?”

  He placed his hands on either side of me. “All these tears. I’m the reason. I should have stopped after the first time.”

  I cupped his strong face in my hands—a formidable face I had once feared long ago. Now all I saw when I looked at him was a devoted man who would move mountains for me. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “No, you deserve better. I can’t even find us a child. The world is filled with so many unwanted children, and I haven’t been able to find a single one.”

  “Most of those unwanted children are humans. It’s harder to adopt Breed children—you know that as well as I do. We both went into this knowing the risks.” I stroked his chin with my thumbs, and Logan lowered his head to kiss them. “Finn says he might have connections. Maybe the black market isn’t the way to go. It’s wrong to bid for a child.”

  “It’s a chance to save them from predators. I would rather buy a child in peril than adopt one whose safety is certain.” His voice fell to a whisper. “I would give all that I have to make you happy.”

  I sat up. “If you’re doing this for me, stop.”

  He cocked his head to the side, his brows drawn together. “I’m doing this for us. Isn’t this what you want?”

  “Not if it means losing you. Maybe it’s not in the fates for us to have children. I love you, but this could destroy us if we let it. I can imagine a life without children, but I can’t imagine my life without you.” My voice cracked.

  Logan stretched out his long legs and pulled the covers over us. He surrounded me with his body and nuzzled against my neck. “I’ll stop searching, and we’ll go on as before. No more tears?”

  I nodded against him. “No more tears.”

  His kisses against my neck grew insistent, and he slipped his hand down the back of my sweats. My lips parted, and I gasped when he rocked against me.

  Logan released a throaty growl—one that told me he was going primal. Sometimes when we were intimate he’d flip his switch, losing all control to the Chitah instincts within him. He glanced up at me, his eyes as black as two ebony stones beneath moonlight. Logan was in there somewhere, sharing the experience with his inner animal. I kissed his mouth as my sweats and panties slid down.

  “Mine,” he growled.

  “Always,” I whispered.

  Chapter 8

  Simon and Adam

  “Oi! Where’s Silver?” Simon shouted. “Bloody hell, she’s going to miss the unveiling.” He could hardly endure the excitement any l
onger.

  Adam set his beer on the fireplace mantel and held the stepladder for Simon. “Plug her in. We’ll give Silver the full show tomorrow. I don’t want to miss this.”

  Simon held a plug in one hand and the socket in the other. “Feast your eyes…”

  As the power cords merged, the tree topper lit up and Sadie barked out a laugh from across the room.

  A soft green glow illuminated the corner walls, and Adam stepped back to admire the sinister head of Mr. Grinch. A naughty smile curved up one side of the character’s face, and a Santa hat covered his head.

  “That’s in Justus’s honor,” Simon announced, stepping off the ladder, proud of his festive purchase. “I thought Silver would get a kick out of it. The resemblance is uncanny.”

  Adam patted him on the back. “She’s gonna love it, but it might scare the hell out of the kids.”

  “Bollocks. He’s smiling.”

  Adam chuckled. “That’s the smile someone gives you before they cut your throat.”

  Simon strode toward the couch, murmuring, “You better be good for goodness’ sake.”

  Simon took a seat and faced the fire, his arms draped across the back of the sofa, his leather pants creaking as he stretched his legs. There was a large box of sweets already opened, and the angel and devil on his shoulder were arguing on whether or not to leave it out for when the little ones arrived. The confectionaries were chocolate liqueur, and perhaps it would act as a narcotic and quiet them down. In his day, there was no such thing as a legal age for drinking. Simon didn’t mind children so long as they belonged to someone else, but he did tire of hearing them prattle on about cartoon characters and pink unicorns.

  Adam lifted his beer off the mantel and sat on the other couch to Simon’s right. “You look like you’re scheming. Where’s Ella? I thought Silver invited everyone.”

  Simon pursed his lips and pretended he didn’t care about Ella as much as he did. He had never announced their relationship since they were still figuring it out themselves, but everyone knew they were an item. He just wanted to take things slow since the poor girl had been through enough trauma, and entering a serious relationship with Simon Hunt was likely to scar her for life.

  “She wants to be alone,” he finally answered.

  Adam arched his brow judgmentally. “Do you think that’s a good idea on the holidays? Maybe you should send her a message and invite her yourself.”

  “She’d have to call a cab, and all that snow,” he said, waving his hand. “No need to fuss. It’s just a day like any other day.”

  The conversation died.

  Ella found it difficult to be around families during the holidays since it only reminded her of her own loss. It seemed absurd to argue with that logic.

  Still, it left him feeling sour about the whole affair. The shopping excursion with Justus had been a welcome distraction, but now that he was alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have just dragged her here by force.

  An image flashed in his mind of her sitting alone by the window, a bowl of chicken soup in her hand and tears spilling down her cheeks while she watched the snow falling.

  Bloody hell, he mused. So this is what happens when you lose your testicles to Cupid.

  “Looks like it’s you and me,” Adam said. He raised his bottle in a toast. “Here’s to the outsiders.”

  “I think we could change that with a little mistletoe.”

  Adam spit out his drink and wiped his chin.

  Simon waggled his eyebrows and stood up. “Not me, you knobhead. Her,” he said, jerking his thumb toward Sadie.

  Adam turned as red as Santa’s arse after sliding down a chimney. He shrugged it off as he always did and took another swig of beer. It hadn’t escaped Simon’s attention that Adam had an infatuation for Sadie. He was clever at hiding it, and no one else had seemed to pick up on it, but Simon began to wonder how much longer the charade could go on.

  Since Chitahs could pick up emotional scents, Adam often distanced himself from her during social functions, especially when Levi was around.

  “Should be an interesting dinner,” Simon murmured as he sauntered off and took a seat across from Sadie. “How’s it going, love?”

  Sadie plucked another string on her guitar and adjusted the tuner. “It would be better if I had some new strings.”

  Simon hadn’t bought gifts for anyone. His humor and good company were gifts enough. “How’s the hippie lifestyle treating you?”

  “You know, I’ll be glad when I can get my own living space.” She slid her pick between the strings on the bridge and leaned the guitar against the wall. “I’m more creative late at night, and I can’t exactly practice whenever I want. It wakes Leo, and he’s a guy who sticks to a schedule. At first we worked something out, but I feel like I’m suffocating my muse if I have set working hours. That’s not how a creative mind works, and I really need to focus on new material. There’s a band down in Tennessee who has an online album sold exclusively to Breed. I’d like to do something like that.”

  Simon heard Sadie’s boot heels tapping against the floor. “Is the pay really worth it to keep singing in pubs? You’ve been wearing those same tattered boots for years.”

  “Hey, these are my lucky heels.”

  Simon snorted. “Planning on getting lucky tonight?”

  A soft pink tinted her cheeks and she leaned back, giving him a smarmy grin. “You’re not my type.”

  “I didn’t mean me, and I think we both know what I’m talking about.” Simon stood up and leaned toward her, smiling wolfishly. “Don’t stay up too late waiting for Santa. He might not be the only bloke with a big package. See you on the morrow,” he said with a wink.

  Chapter 9

  Justus and Page

  After adorning the tree with ornaments and shiny garland, Justus finally headed up to his house. No amount of calisthenics could have prepared him for holiday shopping and assembling a Christmas tree. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw twinkling lights and tacky sweaters.

  Justus removed his shoes in the dark hallway, and his bare feet whispered against the kitchen floor as he strode into the living room and found Page asleep on the couch. He quietly approached, the streetlights reflecting off the snow and bathing the room in yellow light. Her favorite afghan was draped across her feet.

  He loved it when her hair was messy and unkempt. She looked like a fairy who had wandered into his life and put a claim on his heart. One who blushed all over when he crooked his finger at her and whispered words of love in French. It was a language he didn’t speak often, and he’d lost his heavy accent over the years. After Rose was born, he realized that teaching her French created a special bond between them and linked her to his past. He wanted to teach her everything.

  Justus caressed Page’s heart-shaped face and watched her long lashes flutter. She looked more beautiful now than when they’d first met, and not a day went by that he didn’t thank the fates for bringing her into his life.

  What had he done to deserve such a remarkable creature? She was not only the mother of his child but the keeper of his heart. An intellectual who worked tirelessly to counsel and heal people. She had postponed her appointments for two days in order to celebrate Christmas, and Adam had volunteered to leave in her stead if someone had a life-threatening emergency.

  Justus took the reading glasses out of her hand and placed them on the table. A small book of sonnets was resting on the floor, the pages open. Justus cradled her in his arms and gently lifted her from the sofa.

  As he moved down the hall, he peered into Rose’s room and made sure she was asleep. She sometimes woke up in the middle of the night and would switch on a flashlight beneath the covers to look at her science books. She couldn’t read anything that advanced, but she was an astute child and had recently asked Justus to teach her the alphabet and basic words.

  She was so much like her mother.

  He felt a pinch of nervousness again. Would she l
ike his Christmas gift? Justus had taken great care to pick out something he thought would spark her imagination: a custom-made projector that displayed realistic moving images of stars, nebulas, solar systems, gasses—all of it. A friend of his designed gadgets for Breed that humans didn’t have, and nothing he’d seen on the human market matched the realism of this light display.

  Satisfied that Rose was asleep, he continued walking to his bedroom.

  When he reached it, he nudged the door shut with the heel of his foot and walked forward. Without windows or a light, he counted the steps until he reached the bed against the left wall. Once there, he gently placed Page on the mattress and then strode to the dresser on the opposite wall to light a candle. The mellow light cast a spell in the room with its silent presence.

  Justus liked the familiar, and when they’d moved into the new building, he’d wanted a simple room just as his others had been. Windows in the bedroom were intrusive and removed all privacy, not to mention security, so he’d taken it out. Page could have complained, but she understood his needs and didn’t find it to be a huge sacrifice. They didn’t quarrel over living space or material things; they compromised.

  He carried the candle to the right side of the bed and set it on the table. Before getting in, he pulled down the covers to the foot of the bed and tucked her legs beneath them. A recent HALO case was on his mind, but he pushed the thought aside to lie next to his woman. No interruptions, no appointments, no talking about work.

  He nestled on his right side, resting his hand on her stomach. He missed the feel and look of her swollen belly from when she had carried his child—how womanly she’d looked, how stunning. She’d glowed with a light that shone from within. The chain he’d kept which allowed him to be intimate with Page without his energy hurting her hadn’t done anything in the way of bringing more children. Not that it mattered. Rose was enough.

  “Can’t sleep?” she murmured, eyes still closed.