by Joey W. Hill
His fingers lapped over hers, tightened, as his arm shifted around her back. He slid a palm down into her jeans pocket so he could grip her buttock, hold her even closer.
She wouldn’t hover. But he would know she was here, always, in whatever way he needed her. She was getting better and better at telling him that without words, the way he best heard it.
I love you so much. There is nothing I will not do for you. Nothing. As long as it’s the best thing for you.
With Ben, she always had to add that caveat. It was the line in the sand she’d drawn. He’d learned, no matter how indomitable a Master he was, she’d never turn from it. Love trumped even Master, though it took that strongest force in the universe to stand against him when he had his mind set on something. The submissive nature that formed her center wanted nothing more than to please him in every way.
“Ben, Marcie?” Ruby was at the doorway. She was in an outfit similar to what she’d worn yesterday, jeans and a tank, only this shirt was burgundy with a slim strip of matching lace embellishing the edges. Her thick brown hair was pulled back in the same functional tail, but she wore a silver triquetra around her neck and ear cuffs etched with the same design. Her hazel eyes were tired, but sharp. “Think we’re about ready to lay this out, if you guys are ready to jump in on it. But we had The Ruby Slipper deliver an early breakfast so we could all eat something first.”
If Marcie wondered why they hadn’t asked their breakfast preferences ahead of time, the question was answered, pretty quickly. When she stepped back into the room, Ben’s hand at the small of her back to courteously guide her in ahead of him, she saw no less than seven bulging bags of takeout from the restaurant. It appeared they’d ordered some of everything, explaining why the Slipper, who normally didn’t offer delivery, had done so.
They spread it out on the high kitchen counter as a buffet, and then everyone grabbed a plate. Amazed, Marcie watched as Derek piled his as high as possible without toppling it. He sat down at one of the stools on the opposite side of the counter to dig in. Mikhael’s appetite was similar, though he appeared to prefer to fill his plate less ponderously and come back for more.
She, Raina and Ruby went for the more normal portions, and then took a seat around the dining room table. Ruby shot an amused look at Derek. “He’ll likely get a second plate just like that. It’s a good thing he has good table manners, else that would have been a relationship deal-breaker.”
Marcie eyed Derek’s muscular form. If he had a soft spot, she couldn’t find it. And she was really looking because, well, she couldn’t help that the room was full of men nice to look at. Three different, fascinating types.
Derek had taken off his hat inside the room, emphasizing those manners Ruby had mentioned. He had one of his boots propped on the base of Mikhael’s stool, a comfortable camaraderie, and an interesting contrast, the alligator-type skin footwear propped so close to Mikhael’s shiny Gucci loafer.
“Give me a reason not to hate them deeply,” Marcie said. “Tell me they have to work out like fiends.”
“They do have to stay in fighting shape, and that burns off a lot, but it’s the use of magical energy, how Guardians use it,” Ruby explained. “They can run through thousands of calories in one fight, but more than that, their connection to a lot of things, the way they monitor the energies around them, and in places far beyond what we see, requires an energy outlay as well.”
“Okay, just as long as they’re breaking a sweat. Even if it’s not detectible to the human eye. And what kind of boots are those?”
“Dragonskin,” Raina said, without missing a beat. “Normally he gets along with their species, but not that time.”
Derek grunted in agreement, and continued eating.
Marcie gave Ben a wide-eyed look as he circled around the table. He shook his head.
“I don’t think I’m even surprised,” he said, and dropped buttered toast onto her plate. “You need more carbs for today. The bread is good. It’s fresh.”
She transferred some of her fruit to his plate. “The pineapple is, too. And seasoned with grated coconut. You’ll like it.”
He’d kept an apartment above The Ruby Slipper before they were married. She wondered if their new companions had known that, known how particular Ben was about his food. Though Monteleone had a good restaurant and chef for lunch and dinner hour room service, if they’d sent up the usual hotel room service breakfast fare of powdered eggs and dethawed fruit, he would have opted to starve.
Ben took the chair closest to the island. Despite their proximity to one another, there wasn’t a whole lot of conversation between the men for the next little bit. At their end of the table, the women chatted comfortably, as women would. Marcie clued Raina in on good places to shop for clothes and shoes—after they saved the city, of course. She and Ruby discussed the best firing ranges, particularly the ones that allowed reloads and unjacketed rounds.
“I want an assault rifle like Dana’s,” Marcie said, shooting a petulant look toward Ben. “He refuses to find me a loophole on the permitting.”
“Damn straight,” Ben grunted. “I can beat you in hand to hand—”
“Barely,” she said under her breath to Ruby and blinked innocently as he gave her a narrow look.
“—but give you an assault rifle? I won’t have a chance next time I piss you off.”
“It’s a fair point,” Ruby agreed, with a smile. “I tried to shoot Derek once. He turned the bullet into a flower. But that was because he saw it coming. It might do more damage if I have the element of surprise.”
“She’s given thought to this,” Mikhael said to Derek. “Take that as a warning.”’
“At least she hasn’t tried to turn me into a bug for her raven familiar to eat,” Derek said between mouthfuls.
“That was merely a threat. She didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I did,” Raina said sweetly. She turned her attention back to Marcie and Ruby, and their conversation about shopping. “Ruby may act like all she cares about are her guns, but get her into a shoe store, and she loves her stilettos. Probably because of how much he likes them.”
Raina tossed a glance at Derek as he handed over the salt to Mikhael, a wordless communication.
“She buys them for him,” Mikhael said. “They make his ankles look so slim.”
Derek grunted, ignored them all. “He takes his eating pretty seriously,” Ruby explained. “We’ll get down to business when he’s done. The only thing that can distract him from a meal is Jeremiah, our son.”
“Well, not the only thing. You in stilettos…and nothing else,” Raina interjected slyly. Ruby nudged her with an elbow and rolled her eyes.
“Do you have pictures? Of your son?” Marcie added hastily as all three men looked up in unison. Raina burst out laughing, and earned a faint grin from Ben, a scowl from Derek.
“I do,” Ruby said, biting back a smile. A small, handheld photo album appeared on the table before them, making Marcie jump back. She recovered with admirable aplomb, in her opinion. “Okay. No need to carry a purse if you’re a witch.”
“Nope. Unless you’re in a public place. Kind of hard for people to miss you pulling things out of thin air.”
“Which gives you an excuse to go purse shopping,” Raina said. She drew the album closer to her and Marcie, and opened it up to the first page.
“Oh, look at him.” Marcie studied a solemn-eyed baby, who gazed at the camera with unsettling forthrightness. “He’s amazing. His expression…it’s like he’s saying…”
“Whose ass do I have to kick today?” Raina put in. “He is both his mother and father’s child.”
“Jackson Jeremiah Stormwind,” Ruby said fondly. “We call him Jem. Sometimes Jeremy or Jeremiah. We’re not sure which he likes best yet.”
“Jeremy is a nice name, but I like Jem, too,” Marcie said after a moment. Ben reached out and gripped her hand briefly. Marcie gave him a look that told him she was okay, and then offered another que
stion, not wanting to draw attention to the emotional hitch the name had given her.
“Does he have magical abilities, being the child of a witch and a Light Guardian?”
“I’m all human,” Ruby said. “My abilities were taught, though there was some natural talent there.”
“Some,” Raina mimicked. Derek shot Ruby a look that said she’d tossed out a serious understatement. Ruby lifted a shoulder.
“Okay, more than some. But my point is that the talent had to be learned, practiced. That said, magical ability at its most basic level is within most people’s grasp, if they’re willing to study and practice. And open themselves to what lies deep inside all of us. But Derek, he’s not human, so it’s expected his son will have some abilities that aren’t exactly in the usual human gene pool. We don’t know what they are yet.”
“He never cries,” Raina said. “That’s already an improvement.”
“Yes and no.” Ruby looked at the picture of her son, her thumb moving over his serious face. A shadow crossed her expression. “I wish he would. He hasn’t laughed, either. Sometimes he almost smiles. He watches, and listens.”
She shook her head, trying to pass it off with a shrug, but Raina put her hand on hers. “Ruby, he’s fine.”
Ruby nodded, but her eyes stayed fastened on Jeremiah’s image. “It’s as if he’s waiting to see if we’re going to do something awful to him. Or if we’re really going to love him.”
“Well, we aren’t, and we do.” Derek turned from the counter. “We love him more than I thought it was possible to love anyone, and that’s saying something, since I love you with everything I am. He’s good, baby.”
The firm declaration, coupled with the endearment, was unexpected from the reserved Guardian. However, the combination of tenderness and ferocity revealed the truth of his words, how deeply his love for his wife and child ran. Though Ruby didn’t move from the table, when her gaze met her husband’s, Marcie saw her very soul gravitate to the shelter of that reassurance. Even a badass witch had vulnerabilities that needed protecting.
“He’s come a long way, a hard road in his past life, to be in your arms,” Derek told his wife. “When you wake from a lifelong nightmare, it takes time to believe you’re no longer in it.”
His gaze shifted to Marcie. “Though his soul did carry the same name in that past life, he is not your brother, Marcie.”
Jeremy had died not too long after she and Ben had started dating, and his memory still brought bittersweet feelings. Like Ben said, she guessed she should stop being surprised at the things the group they were with knew or had experienced. But then she realized…
Ben’s hand had stayed on hers, tightened, as her gaze shifted to Mikhael. Her heart pounded up in her throat. She couldn’t ask. She wouldn’t. Jeremy had been an addict, had wasted most of his life, but at the end, he found peace. Surely…
“Marcella,” Ben said quietly. “Don’t. Just don’t. Don’t do that to yourself.”
Mikhael’s profile was to her. She was certain he was hearing the conversation. He’d stopped eating, had the tines of his fork resting in the food, his gaze upon it. She didn’t know what was going on in his mind, but he did not look toward her, his stillness a wordless reinforcement of what Ben was telling her.
There were things one didn’t ask a Dark Guardian. But how could she not? How…
She closed her eyes. Thought of Jeremy the last time she’d seen him, the peace in the gaunt face. She thought of how Mikhael had spoken to Raina. The center of his universe. He was a male who served Lucifer. He also believed utterly in love, and the power it had.
That was her answer. She summoned the will to believe that with all her heart, and posed a different question.
“Who’s with your son right now?” she asked Ruby.
Ben’s firm grip on her hand tightened, and she saw a flash of deep approval in his gaze, fortifying her. She also saw Mikhael and Derek exchange a look, Mikhael making a slight nod, before he resumed eating. And Raina giving her a nod that told her she’d just made an impression. A good one.
“Ramona is with him,” Ruby said, and some of her own shadows dissipated into a smile. “Which some might consider entirely irresponsible parenting, handing your baby over to a chaos witch, but there’s no one we’d trust more.”
“Except me,” Raina said.
Derek scoffed. Raina narrowed her eyes at him. “It was not my fault that he liked the waterproof vibrator,” she said haughtily. “It hadn’t been used, after all. It had just been delivered and was sitting on the top of the open box. Gina turned it on. It sparkles, and there are these little balls inside that rotate. He was teething, and it’s a good quality rubber for that, so she gave it to him.”
“Which is why the vision of my infant son chewing on an eight-inch phallus is permanently seared in my brain.” Derek sighed.
“Such a drama queen. Are you sure you want to keep him?” she asked Ruby. “He’s so…old.”
“Mikhael is older,” Ruby pointed out.
“You didn’t seem to mind that at one time.”
“Whoa, hold the phones,” Marcie said, her eyes widening. “Ruby and Mikhael—”
What she was going to say wisely got caught in her throat and stayed there as Derek proved there was another thing that could turn his attention from his food. The look he shot Raina could have left scorch marks on ice. Ruby gave her friend an exasperated look.
“Always poking the bear,” she muttered.
Raina tossed her hair, but had the grace to wave her hand at Derek, a pacifying gesture that might have been equally inspired by the look Mikhael shot her, an unmistakable warning and admonishment.
The witch cupped a hand on the side of her mouth and spoke in an exaggerated stage whisper to Marcie. “Too soon.”
“Which will be true for the next century,” Ruby said under her breath.
It was a story Marcie would have been happy to hear regardless, but Ben pressed his foot on hers under the table. A different kind of warning this time, but a warning all the same. He’d partially finished his meal and had his other foot propped on the edge of the chair next to him. As he continued to eat from his plate, he scrolled through his new phone with the other hand. He’d ported in his email, so was tapping out messages.
Marcie noted he was close enough to the men at the bar to indicate he had no issues with them, but he’d distanced himself from the corner around which she, Ruby and Raina sat. That buffer distance that men seemed to like, being on the periphery of female chatter without being required to directly participate in it.
She assumed he was likely checking his work emails, a mundane but important thing. While New Orleans stood on the brink of annihilation, it was important not to get behind on the things the office needed. Because, well, if the world didn’t end, work would go on.
Since Ruby hadn’t asked anything about the things they’d discussed earlier, Marcie assumed Derek and Mikhael had brought her up to speed. She was glad, so Ben didn’t have to rehash even the highlights.
“Matt said if he doesn’t get a useful update soon, he’s bringing the whole team in,” Ben said, pausing on one note.
Mikhael pushed his now empty plate away, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “He should have one shortly. We may also need his assistance with some mundane logistics, if he is willing and able.”
“Able, for certain. I don’t think any of us really want to do what we’re about to do. It just has to be done.” Ben clicked off his phone, and tapped it on the table, a suddenly thoughtful expression gripping his features.
“Born,” he said slowly. “She said born.”
They looked his way as he squared himself with the table so everyone was in his view. “It won’t erupt. It will be born. That’s what she said.”
“To a creature like Elagra, birth and utter destruction could mean the same thing,” Derek pointed out.
“No.” Ben shook his head. “She’s completely nuts, but she’s very precise, when
it comes to certain things. She means what she says. It feels relevant.”
“Then it likely is,” Mikhael said. “Time to get our chaos witch on the line. I’ll open a communication portal to Ramona.”
“Maybe let Derek do it,” Raina suggested. “Probably better to have her energy scrambling a Light Guardian’s magic than a Dark One’s. Since her chaos doesn’t change the emotional nature of the magic. Just plays havoc with it.”
“Good point,” Derek agreed. Mikhael shrugged, conceding the issue.
Derek slid off the bar stool. He crossed the suite, taking a central position in the living room. As he faced the open balcony doors, he didn’t reach for his staff, which stood in the corner. Instead, he slid his hands in his back pockets as he faced the New Orleans view, a seemingly relaxed pose that was likely anything but. It reminded Marcie of Ben’s posture when she’d come back to the suite. The Light Guardian tilted his head a little to the left, as if considering a painting on an invisible wall in front of him.
Raina and Ruby stood and joined him, standing a few feet back in a loose semi-circle with Mikhael. Glancing at Ben, Marcie rose and followed, adding to the formation. Ben flanked her on her left. That was when she noticed the air movement in the room stilled. Energy pressed in against them, like when New Orleans had a humid summer day unrelieved by any breeze, everyone’s least favorite weather in the city. One of the few things she wasn’t going to enjoy about the job was having to be a beat cop in pounds of gear on those hot days.
That humid feeling began to lighten. At first, she didn’t trust her eyes, but she knew she wasn’t imagining it. It was like watching an actual painting being created in the air, an invisible artist brushing a clear canvas with swirls of translucent color. Blues in a variety of shades, a shot of fiery gold, a hint of red…
They began to swirl in a cohesive way, and a center opened in the middle. Rather than seeing the balcony and city view beyond, now she saw a place that wasn’t here. It took her mind time to make sense of the input without context, but when she did, she was seeing what looked like the inside of an eclectic junk shop, filled with colors and textures, and a cozy sort of clutter.
