An Unlikely Witch (18 page)

Jamie nodded.  “It was kind of like walking in on the Dalai Lama in a bar fight.”  He aimed a grin at Lizard.  “Or you in your kitchen, wearing a frilly apron.”

“Careful, pretty boy.”  Their resident poet passed out takeout boxes.  “Mention bare feet and you’ll discover that Trinity’s not the only one who knows how to throw a punch.”

A year or two ago, that comment would have been more serious than not.  Now Lizard sent a gooey grin Josh’s direction, along with something about bare feet and kitchens that Lauren hastily blocked.  She rolled her eyes and left her mind barriers locked.  It happened a lot around the newlyweds.

Her associate’s mental snort blew right in. 
I’d apologize, but Devin’s thoughts aren’t exactly pure and innocent this evening either.

Damn.  And she’d been fixated on Nat and a stupid orb.  Lauren shot a quick look at her husband, who waggled his eyebrows her direction and handed her a fork.  He grinned.  “Eat, and I promise not to tell anyone about your apron collection.”

She laughed.  It felt really good.  “The one numbering exactly zero?”

Jamie sat down with fork and food of his own.  “That could be fixed.”

Lauren swung her head around. 
That
was a threat—the kind the Sullivans deeply enjoyed acting on.  “Do that, and I’ll teach Kenna how to send Dr. Seuss rhymes into your dreams.”

He held up his hands in instant surrender as the rest of the room laughed.  She soaked it in, not caring that half of it was aimed at her.  She loved it when Witch Central pulled off this in-your-face stuff.  Take that, freaking universe.

Josh tugged Lizard onto his lap.  “So—you can send stuff into my dreams, huh?  Can I make requests?”

She threatened him with a fork.  Which would have been more effective if her cheeks weren’t pink and shaking with giggles.

Lizard Monroe giggling.  At least as much a brave new world as Nat Sullivan punching things.  And Lizard had stood in Nat’s crystal-ball-tortured shoes not all that long ago.

It worked out pretty well for her,
sent Jamie quietly. 
Thanks.  It’s a good reminder.

Lauren wasn’t so sure.  Her glass paperweight sure the hell didn’t seem to be promising happy endings this time.  However, she could feel the general teasing goodwill in the room doing its work, and she had no intentions of being this day’s voice of doom. 

Timing.  Instead, she picked up the conversational ball and gave laughter and light a helping hand.  “So, who’s got their Solstice gift finished?”

Besides Lizard.  Who had apparently stepped up her plans for the sole purpose of forcing the Sullivans out of their funk.

Lauren was smart enough not to bet against her.

“Well, I thought mine was done.” Lizard made a face at Devin.  “But apparently I need to go apron shopping.”

Lauren knew only the vague outlines of what was happening tonight.  Or more precisely,
where
it was happening.  And that a whole lot of denizens of Witch Central thought it was epic, and that Devin was going to flip.

Hopefully it was epic and non-frilly.

Josh stole a bite of his wife’s linguine.  “I’m done.”  He smiled at Lauren.  “I did that last thing this morning.  We’re ready to roll.”

He’d gotten Nell’s name and she had Daniel, so they’d joined forces.

“You guys gonna dish yet?”  Jamie looked mildly curious, albeit more interested in his eggnog. 

“Not a chance.”  Lauren tightened her mind barriers, just in case, and grinned.  “No Sullivan brothers get any details in advance.”

“I have two spots to beta test Project Titan.”  Jamie eyed Josh casually.

Lauren had hung around on the outskirts of the gaming world long enough to know exactly how huge a bribe that was.  She eyed the guy it was aimed at—he didn’t have quite as much experience with the Sullivan troublemakers as she did.

“You have to be kidding.”  Josh was making good headway into his wife’s noodles now.  “First Lauren would turn my mind to slime, and then Nell would chop whatever was left into wood chips.”

Lauren grinned.  If her brothers pranked the getaway they’d planned, Nell would do worse than that.  Forty-eight whole hours alone in a cabin with no Internet, a king-sized bed with a view up to the stars, and a kitchen stocked with offerings from one of California’s best chefs.

The chef loved his new home in the hills—and had jumped at the idea of making two busy parents feel like newlyweds. 

All that Lauren had left to do was a quick trip to her favorite lingerie store.  She winked at Josh.  “You can help with the last thing on my list if you want.”  And laughed as he turned purple.

Dev reached for a second box of noodles, grinning.  “I think I like this plan, whatever it is.”

Lizard, who did know what they’d been working on, snickered.  “I’ll take that under advisement.”

Lauren glared at her young associate.  “Stick with your first idea.”  Not that Dev would mind a delivery of aprons and lingerie.  He was a flexible guy.

The young poet only laughed.   “Maybe I’ll have a chat with Mia instead.”

The eleven-year-old had Lauren’s name.  She fully expected something red and glittery.  “No corrupting innocent children.” 

Jamie, who had somehow moved to the edge of the action, smiled a little sadly.  And didn’t say what he was thinking, but she heard it anyhow.  Witch Central kids didn’t always get to be innocent.  Somehow, even the holiday gifting was threatening that.  Aervyn had Jamie’s name, and Ginia had Nat’s.  And between the two of them, they had big magic—and even bigger hearts.  Nobody wanted to think about what was going to happen when they found out that Sophie was out of options.

Tonight wasn’t just about distracting the grown-up Sullivans.

Lauren forked in another bite of noodles.  Kicking the universe in the knees worked best one carefully aimed blow at a time.  So they’d eat and laugh and tug another smile or two out of Jamie.  And then she’d take a piece of the chocolate orgasm and go see what shape Nat’s knuckles were in.

And after that, she’d hold Lizard’s coat while her young associate took the next kick.

Damn straight,
sent their poet fighter, reaching for chocolate. 
And only idiots aim at knees.

-o0o-

Nell took one look at her two visitors and snapped a thought Daniel’s direction. 
Send the kids to Lauren and Dev’s.  Now.

He hit the transport spell, and all Walkers under sixteen winked out of the living room.  And then, together, they stared at the two people who had just arrived.  They both knew what Sophie and Moira had come to ask.  They’d been waiting for a week.

None of which made this moment any easier.

It was the old Irish witch who finally broke the silence.  “She’s needed.”

Nell closed her eyes and cursed in every language she knew.  “For Nat.”

“Yes.”  Sophie looked as ripped up as Nell felt.  “But no one will understand better than us if you say no.  We’re likely to fail, even with her help.”

God.  Nell could see the little boy in her head, standing beside his snowman, both of them pummeling at a thick, crusted pane of glass.  Begging to be freed. 

“She’ll find out,” said Daniel quietly.  “There’s no possible way to keep this hidden.  Better we give her the chance to try.”

Nell buried her face in his shoulder.  “She’s so little.”

“I know.”  He wasn’t any steadier than she was.  “But she has your warrior heart.  And she’s been quietly fighting on the outskirts for days now.”

Moira smiled, eyes aching with sad pride.  “We’d no way to stop her.”

They hadn’t, either.  Her beautiful, stubborn girl.  “You’ll have to ask Nat, too.”  And that might possibly be the harder assent to win.

Sophie nodded quietly.  “We know.”

Nell felt her shoulders squaring.  If she was going to send her bright and sunny child into battle, it would damn well be with her parents a solid, confident wall behind her.  “On one condition.”

Three sets of eyes flew to hers, confused.

The warrior took another look at the boy and his ball of snow behind the glass.  Unfurled her best weapon.  And wielded it on behalf of all of them.  “Stop believing you’re likely to fail.”

-o0o-

It was a poet’s punch at the universe.

Lauren stared at the crowd collected on their cliffs and marveled.  Not at their numbers.  At the sheer, defiant joy of them.

I’m not the only one who knows how to fight.
 Lizard grinned from her position in the center of the crowd.  “Come on over here, and then we’ll blindfold you and port you down.”

“Down” was a bunch of sharp, pointy rocks and really cold water.

Have a little faith. 

Lizard’s mind channel held more contained excitement than she probably knew—and it was that which got Lauren’s feet moving.  Or possibly the tug from her husband, who was bouncing up and down harder than any of the witchlings currently trying not to fall off the cliff.

Don’t worry,
sent Nell, laughing. 
I have a barrier spell up.  Nobody’s falling in unless I decide they should.

That was mostly reassuring.

And then, in an explosion of noise and excitement and magic, they were whisked over the edge.

Lauren opened her eyes a fraction of a second after her husband.  She knew that, because she felt his mind melt.

For good reason.  It wasn’t sharp rocks down here any longer—or not only that.  Etched into the side of the cliff, looking like it had belonged for centuries, was a mammoth oval basin.  And judging by the steam rising from the surface, the water it contained was anything but cold.

Lizard looked proud and embarrassed and everything in between.  “We figured it was time the West Coast had a soaking pool too.”

Lauren couldn’t stop staring.  It was a thing of glory and it totally fit the man, just like Moira’s pool fit the old, wise gardener.  This one was more primal.  Hanging on the edge of the world, full of barely banked power.

Devin stared at it like a guy who’d just been hit on the head with an elephant hammer.  “How did you do that?”

Lizard grinned and pointed up the cliff.  “Ask them.”  Dozens of heads peered over the top.  Waving.  Laughing. 

Her husband ran a hand along the smooth rim of the rocks.  “This is insane.”  He looked up at Lizard, a grin exploding all over his face.  “This is entirely awesome.”

She shrugged, face striving for nonchalant.  And then the sexy guy at her side elbowed her gently, and her face exploded in glee.  “It was my idea, but I had so much help.”  She looked up at Josh, love washing over her face.  “Someone taught me how to ask.”

It was stupendous.  And they’d done it while most of the adults in the most powerful witching family on earth had been focused on something else.

Yup.
 Lizard sounded decidedly proud. 
That wasn’t easy, but we managed.

Lauren was sure there would be stories.  Later.  For now, she was happy just to gape.

Devin stuck his hand in the water—and sucked in a sharp breath as it glowed around his hand.  Slowly he moved his fingers, and the starry luminescence followed.

It was as fine a punch at the crap lurking in the dark as Lauren had ever seen.  She took another look at the sublime pool, and then tipped her head up to the crowd on the cliffs and broadcast her laughter and her thanks.   “I don’t think everyone’s going to fit in here.”

Dev was still blinking like a guy in a dream.  “We’re gonna need some safety spells.  So the kids don’t get hurt.”

“Do I look like a total idiot?” asked Lizard dryly.  “Relax.  Govin and Sierra were in charge of making sure no one gets hurt.  This place is spelled fifteen ways to Friday.”

In that case, it was time to toss joy as high in the night sky as they could manage.  Lauren looked cliffward again and found Aervyn’s face.  “Beam us up, super dude.  We’ll put on some swimsuits and see how many people we can squeeze in here.” 

His giggle came down over the sound of the winter waves. 
Mama says we’re supposed to try to have good manners and let Uncle Devin get in first.  But he better hurry.

Lauren reached for the hand of the guy beside her.  He knew how to be fast.  And she was learning.  “Race you.”

She was pretty sure she was going to lose.  And tonight, that would be just fine.

Chapter 15

Her arms were going to die.  Any minute.  And Nat hadn’t felt this peaceful in days.

All thanks to a punching lesson and a laughter-filled, very late-night soak in Devin’s stunning new toy.  There had still been a line-up when she’d taken her husband’s hand and ported to bed at 3 a.m.

Witch Central would be sleepy this morning.  And very happy and very chill.

With the possible exception of one fiery two-year-old who had no idea what “chill” meant.

Nat nestled into a floor pillow, her saggy arms supported by its squishy depths, watching the magic lesson happening in Kenna’s playroom.  It hadn’t been intentional.  Aervyn had delivered waffles and fresh applesauce and Kenna had put in a request for “firebugs.” 

Memories of last night, perhaps—the firebugs did look a little bit like the luminescence in Devin’s pool.