by Debora Geary
~ ~ ~
Lauren looked at Devin as they followed Nat down the hall, glad she was a mind witch. Otherwise she might have believed he was as calm as his exterior suggested. “Now what?”
“We let Nat and Jamie get in the pool.” He squeezed her hand. “Relax. You need to go link with Nat next, and you want to send her some of that serenity she drinks like water.”
She frowned, trying to figure out the logistics. “How do we link up with the rest of the circle?” And then felt Caro and Retha’s inbound mindlinks. “Never mind.”
Devin grinned. “They’re always on point for the birthing circles. They’ll feed to us, and we’ll feed to Nat and Jamie.”
Lauren barely heard him. The rising tide in her head was one of the most amazing things she’d ever felt. She paused, soaking in the vibrations. “How many people are out there?”
“Everybody.” His simple answer rocked her. “The ones with magic send power. They all send love.”
Lauren breathed, flooded by the magic—and added every ounce of love for her best friend and the man Nat had chosen. Then she took Devin’s hand and prepared to be a conduit for the immense welcome waiting to greet one small girl.
Sophie and Ginia looked up as they knelt by the pool. Nat was deep in another contraction, Jamie spooned behind her in the birthing pool. Panic was gone. Now there was just focus.
Lauren watched—awed, but not at all surprised, by her friend’s courage.
“Not long now,” said Sophie, whisper quiet.
Nat’s eyes opened as the contraction eased off, and she gulped from the water Ginia held out. Jamie murmured wordless gratitude and pride.
Devin took Lauren’s hand again. It was time to link. She could already feel his connection with Jamie, the rock solid bond of brotherhood.
Lauren reached out, extending a gentle link to her best friend. Feel this, Nat. Feel how much they love you. She let the flood in her mind flow out and around Nat and the girl in her belly.
And reveled in the joy of sharing magic with her best friend for the first time. Nat’s eyes shone with stunned awe, and Jamie’s eyes glistened as he wrapped careful arms around his wife.
Soaked in magic, Nat rode the next contraction, body straining, and heart clear. Sophie touched Lauren’s arm. “Loop in the baby. It’s time.”
Steeped in communal joy, Lauren reached the gentlest of connections toward the baby—and stopped breathing as a questing mindlink reached for hers. We love you, sweet girl.
Love surged through the birthing circle, the fourteen strong in the inner circle, and dozens more surrounding them. Time stood still as hearts called to the witching community’s newest member.
For a moment, she only listened, cradled in endless love.
And then power flared, surging for freedom. The baby’s mind held only one focus. She was coming. Now.
Nat sprang halfway out of the birthing pool, primal roar sounding as the desperate need to push! slammed into her body.
Lauren yanked down enough barriers to resist the screaming need to join Nat on hands and knees. Barely. Holy hell. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of warning before this part?
Dazed and gasping for air, she watched as Nat’s body finally relaxed—and then immediately surged again. Jamie held on, anguish all over his face, as the intensity overwhelmed his wife. Her voice was tortured. “I… can’t. I can’t.” Focus shattered, her mind and body ran, looking for a place to hide.
And got hit by the third contraction in a row. God. Lauren had never felt so totally helpless.
Sophie grabbed her hand. “Pipe me in. Into Nat’s head. Now.”
Lauren piped, throat closed in fear.
Still connected, she felt the weight of Sophie’s absolute trust and love land in the middle of chaos. You can do this, Natalia Sullivan. It’s time to push, sweetheart. Your girl’s on her way, and she needs your help.
The world stopped for a moment—and then Nat drank in the hope Sophie offered. From some impossible well deep inside, she pulled out more strength. And this time, when the contraction hit, every cell in her body bore down.
And to Lauren’s utter shock, Nat’s fear vanished, replaced by utter commitment.
Sophie smiled in deep approval. “Good.” She looked over at Lauren, command in her eyes. “She’s going to get her part done. You get ready for our baby girl’s magic.”
Lauren clutched Devin’s hand. She’d heard the stories. Until this moment, she hadn’t really believed them.
She believed now.
Leaving Nat in Sophie’s abundantly capable hands, Lauren focused on her connection with Devin. They felt the steady support of the circle, waiting and ready.
She held her breath as Nat quieted for a moment.
And then hung on for dear life as the dynamite lit.
~ ~ ~
Sierra was the first to feel the enormous storm blasting out of the room where Nat gave birth, every channel inside her tuned to the massive energies. She held tight to Mia on one side, Aervyn on the other. Birthday-boy’s eyes were big as plates. “It’s just like me. Just like when I was born.”
The nine witches of the inner circle, led by Caro and Retha, turned as one, facing the torrent of power streaming out of the bedroom.
Sierra watched in awe as witch after witch behind them stood up. Dozens of them, inside the house and out, all doing the same thing. Taking whatever power they could handle and grounding it. Safety for the baby witchling.
One small boy with purple hair quietly scooped and grounded, never touching more power than she might use to light a candle. His steady effort of love nearly brought her to her knees.
Standing up, she joined in. Scoop and ground. Keep the baby safe.
Nell looked up as thunder crashed overhead and wind screamed around the house. “Damn. I guess she’s an air witch too.”
“No.” Sierra gulped and tried to read the lines as power beat against all of them. “She’s doing all this with fire. I think.”
Aervyn nodded, eyes even bigger. “She’s really scared, Mama.”
Nell held his hand more tightly. “We need to hold on for her. Hold her and take all this power of hers and put it somewhere safe.”
Sierra kept collecting and grounding, speechless that one small baby could handle this much power.
And then she felt the lightning bolt coming.
Magic from the circle instantly rose up to meet it. A shield. Soft. Absorb the lightning.
NO! Sierra jumped forward. Too late. She yanked for power as lightning hit the shield and sprayed off in a hundred directions, witches scrambling to clean it up.
Sierra shook her head at the mess as the energies coming from the birthing room eased off momentarily. Dammit, had none of them ever caught lightning before?
No. Devin’s voice held a trace of humor. And I think there’s more coming. You’re in charge of lightning patrol. Take Aervyn.
She grabbed wonderboy’s hand. “Time to go be superheroes. Can you get us up on the roof? With the brooms?”
Aervyn looked scorched by joy.
“Hang on.” Nell grabbed his other hand just as they ported.
Sierra swung around, agitated. They had to hurry. “I can keep him safe!”
“Of course you can.” Nell added fireglobes back to their brooms. “Now you’ll be able to see him. Go!”
A quick landing on the roof ridge, energies sizzling all around them, and then they were on their broomsticks, capes flying. Sierra had a hard, dish-shaped shield up just as the next lightning bolt crackled. She shot left, clinging to the broom with her knees, and snagged it with the very edge of the shield. Victory. Barely.
Hard and fast now, lightning flung itself down from the sky, streaks of searing fire slicing the black of the darkest night. Wind buffeted their brooms, tossing them around as they flew the shield, storm-riders bouncing lightning back up into the sky.
Sierra ducked under a streak of fire just as it branched—and heard Aervyn laughing
like a maniac, even as he blazed power. No birthday present on earth was ever going to beat this.
Except possibly a new cousin.
~ ~ ~
Devin could feel Lauren trying to soothe the baby. It was kind of like trying to pet a tiger. A really mad, scared one.
At least the house hadn’t gone up in flames yet, thanks to a seriously busy magic bucket brigade.
He saw Sophie, head down beside Nat’s, encouraging her through yet another round of pushing, Jamie glued to her back. Maybe someday the terror would fade, and he’d only remember the fierce beauty of it.
Right now, he was too busy trying to manage all the totally reckless magic his niece-to-be was throwing at the world on her way into it. They had a broomstick lightning patrol, every water witch in the place putting out fires, and he was pretty sure this half of Berkeley mistakenly thought it was morning, courtesy of the fire globe as big as a small planet that currently hung over the house.
Quite the way to light up the darkest night of the year.
With what little energy he could spare, Devin reached out for his mother’s mind. Everyone holding on out there?
Of course. Her calm unfrayed some of his nerves. What else would we be doing?
I can’t believe you did this three times.
Her laughter bubbled. You can thank me later.
He reached for yet another blazing power stream. Little punk was trying to heat up the water in the birthing pool. That’ll boil both you and your mama, silly girl.
Lauren slid back into contact, her mind lurching. Toughest damn negotiation of my life.
She throw you out again?
Yeah.
His niece needed some work on her manners. He grinned. She was such a Sullivan.
He scanned, watching for her next trick—and then in a whoosh, the storm of power vanished.
His eyes snapped open.
And saw Lauren’s, gooey with joy, peering over his shoulder into the birthing pool.
Slowly, he turned around—and saw the latest baby Sullivan floating in the water, absolutely calm, big brown eyes looking up at her parents.
He was almost prepared for the wallop of love that hit his heart—Aervyn’s birth hadn’t been that long ago.
He was totally unprepared for the hammer stroke of longing. He looked at the gorgeous naked baby curled up in her parents’ arms. And wanted. Yearned. Then he looked over at Lauren—and knew who he wanted it with.
He cursed. Mightily. He pleaded with whoever might be listening.
Then he gave up and let the third tidal wave of the day knock over his heart.
Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around Lauren’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Taking one last moment, he breathed in the still-salty smell of her hair. And dove in. “Marry me.”
Her eyes, snapping up to his, looked exactly the way they had before the fifteen-foot wall of water had engulfed them earlier in the day. “What?”
He’d spent a lifetime with mind witches. He said nothing. Just opened.
He watched the waves crashing in her eyes. Disbelief. Desire. Fear. Love. And then, finally, the one he really needed to see. Lauren found her inner sense of adventure.
He spun her around, grinning, as she crushed her lips to his. She might want to take swimming lessons.
Chapter 24
Moira sat in the big rocking chair in Jamie and Nat’s living room and waited for the guest of honor to make an appearance. It had always been a joy to be present at the birth of a babe—but these days, she treasured each one even more.
Perhaps she would get to rock a wee one today. And if not today, then with the magic of Realm, there was always tomorrow.
She looked across at the faces sitting on the couch. Devin—a man who had finally grown up. The lovely Lauren sitting beside him, looking utterly shell-shocked. Ah, she’d just signed on for a wild ride, that one. The most reckless Sullivan in the bunch, and at least a couple of babes with talent in their future, if her scrying bowl wasn’t mistaken.
Sierra, draped in the wonder of her first witchling birth.
Nell and Daniel, remembering the not-so-long-ago arrival of their small boy.
It was Moira’s old ears that heard the steps on the stairs first. She got her arms ready—and then, as Jamie stepped into the room, his girl cuddled in his arms, knew the little one had a stop or two to make first.
Kenna. Born in fire. A seeker, this beautiful little one would be. Her eyes were open, dark, and shining—such an alert little thing.
Moira watched. Instinct tugged at her. A small bit of Kenna’s destiny waited in the room.
Sierra reached out her arms, and then dropped them back, eyes apologetic. “Sorry. I’m sure other people want to hold her first.”
Moira was watching Sierra’s eyes—and she knew the magic of the night was not quite yet done. “We’ll have our turn, dear girl.”
Jamie looked at Moira and raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Seniority usually earned her the first cuddle. She simply smiled.
He handed Kenna into Sierra’s waiting arms and took a seat beside Moira. “What are you up to?” he murmured.
“Just watch.”
Sierra nestled the gorgeous girl in her lap—and began to sing. A beautiful lullaby, old and deep, the melody floating into all their souls. Moira’s heart welled—it was the same song she’d sung to Amelia and every babe she’d ever rocked.
Ever so gently, Sierra pulled magic as she sang, wrapping Kenna in a shimmer of watery light. The small girl stared, with the knowing eyes of one newly born.
Jamie grinned and kept his voice low. “Hot damn. We have a babysitter.”
“You have much more than that, my boy.” Moira lifted her voice as the lullaby ended. “I see she’s picked her guardian angel, then.”
Sierra looked up, a dopey smile on her face. “What’s that?”
“There’s an old Irish legend, child.” Moira’s eyes misted as Sierra’s gaze was pulled back to the sweet, tiny girl nestled in her lap. “When a baby is born, the first face they favor, besides their mama and papa—that’s the person meant to be their guardian angel. Someone to watch over them and help keep them safe.”
Sierra looked up in awe. “And how do I do that?”
“Just love her, child.” Moira felt the truth of what she was about to say flowing in her blood. And this time, she was saying it about the right child. “It has been, and always will be, love that keeps a reckless soul safe.”
Kenna stirred—and the same dancing lights Sierra had made during the lullaby started to shimmer. Sierra giggled softly, enthralled by the baby’s magic, and reached out to touch her cheek. “Well then, smart girl, your first lesson is about groundlines.” She moved her fingers slightly. “See? You just take this little bit here, and tie it over there…”
Nell leaned over quietly as Sierra and Kenna gazed on each other in mutual adoration. “I’ve never heard that story before.”
Moira just smiled. Irish legends were very flexible things.
Thank you!
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