by Ivy Asher
I watch the flames consume the new logs that were just added to the fire pit. The wood chars and blackens as the fire consumes it mercilessly, taking everything the wood has, whether it’s freely given or not. Knox and Ryker’s family laugh and joke, and the jovial sounds fill the night air as everyone eats and enjoys the fire under the star-kissed sky.
I lean back into the camp chair I’m perched in, trying to make a little more room in my stomach for my fourth piece of peach pie.
“How you doin’ over there, Squeaks?” Ryker asks, wiping a spot of pie filling from the corner of my mouth with his thumb.
He draws his hand back towards his mouth, and I watch transfixed as he sucks off the dash of peachy goodness from his thumb. Fuck, that’s hot! Absently, I shove another delicious bite of flaky, buttery crust and sugar-and-spice glazed peaches into my mouth, and give Ryker a dopey pie-loving smile. He laughs, and I can feel Knox’s matching rumble on my other side.
“I think we got her drunk on happy, what do you think, Knox?”
He tilts his head from side to side as he takes me in, making a show of contemplating Ryker’s questions. “Yup, she’s happy-pie drunk. I’d say it’s a pretty severe case of the mellows we’ve got on our hands.”
I laugh and elbow them both as I shovel the last of the piece of pie into my greedy mouth. I hum my approval and wonder if I’m close enough with their family to be able to unbutton my pants and let my food baby out in all its glory.
“No wonder you and your brothers are so massive, with food like that, you’d have to spend all day in the gym just to work the calories off of one meal.”
Ryker and Knox chuckle, and I kick my legs out getting as comfortable in my chair as I can. I look around us to make sure no one is paying attention to us and dive into the question that’s been eating at me since I met the family.
“So, don’t judge me too much, but how did it slip past me that you guys are brothers?” I ask, dropping my voice to almost a whisper.
Ryker smiles sweetly at me and chuckles as he shakes his head. “We’re not related. We’re brothers by soul and circumstance, but not blood.”
He and Knox touch knuckles, and I wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion. Ryker pulls me into him and sweetly kisses my furrowed brow.
“My mom and one of my dads died in an accident when I was four; she was pregnant,” he starts. “My two other dads didn’t take it well. One left Solace for reasons unknown to me, and my sole remaining parent just didn’t really know what to do with me. He tried, in his own way, but he was depressed and had lost so much. Unfortunately, it seemed to break him in a way that he just couldn’t come back from.”
I lean towards Ryker, drawn to the hurt that I hear just under the casual words of his story. I know what it’s like to talk about something like it’s normal, because it is normal to you, and yet you know the wrongness of it, feel the ache of it, in a way that can never be undone.
“I was seven when the elders rescinded my father’s claim on me. I was friends with Knox through school, but we never had any contact outside of classes because of my home issues. But when I needed a place to go, they stepped up and asked to be given guardianship. I’ve been with them ever since. Reese is my mom, and they are my dads in every way, aside from biologically.”
“Do you see that dad at all, the one who stayed?” I ask hesitantly.
Ryker’s eyes drop from mine for the briefest of seconds, and when he looks back up, I fall into the depths of his blue-tinged pain.
“He killed himself a couple of weeks after he lost me.”
I’m up and out of my chair before I even know what I’m doing. I move into his lap, and he pulls me into him and secures me there.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him, and the words are filled with all the ways that I wish I could take the hurt away.
He gives me a small smile, the broken kind you give when nothing can be done or said to change the fucked up shit in your life, so you try to dismiss it and tuck the pain back into yourself. I know that smile. I give it every time I talk about Beth, or Laiken...and now, Talon. It’s the smile that gives the others that know it a peek at the scars you wear on the inside. I hate that he wears this smile.
I smooth back his almost shoulder-length blond hair from his face. I run my fingers through the soft strands and wish I could say something that would make this better. But I know that words can never smooth away the gouges that life gives us. I lean in and claim his lips. Gently, and purposefully, I let my kiss tell him how incredible I think he is and how much better he deserved from life. It’s not enough, but it’s all I have to give; it’s all I have to show him, that I’ll care for his heart and soul and treasure him the way he always should have been.
Ryker’s hands run up my back, caging me in and keeping me from moving too far away as I pull my lips from his. He gives me another smile, and this one radiates happiness and appreciation. I vow to myself that whenever that broken smile returns, I’ll do everything I can to fight for this smile instead. Knox clears his throat, and I look over to him, realizing that Ryker and I, at some point, have acquired an audience. Reese is cuddled up to the side of dad three, but the whole family is looking at me and smiling in a way I can’t interpret.
I give them an awkward close-lipped grin and a weird wave, not sure what else to do. Ryker chuckles and Knox comes to my rescue.
“So, uh, should we play some music or something?” he asks, that cheeky twinkle I love in his eyes.
His words must be laced with magic because they pull everyone out of their fixation on Ryker and me. Skylar—the other pie toting female caster, and Kace’s mate—starts clapping and begging Knox and Ryker to play Photograph. She comes over and grabs my hand, pulling me away from the guys and down into a seat next to her.
“Have you seen them play together yet?” she asks me, her excitement contagious.
“No, but I’ve been told they’re both amazing.”
“It’s like having Ed Sheeran himself give you a private concert. I can’t wait to see your face when you hear Knox and the others. It’s my favorite part of family get-togethers!”
Skylar lets out an adorable squeal of excitement and keeps a firm grip on my hand. I laugh as she bounces in her chair, and Reese walks over and claims the chair on the other side of me. Kiere comes from the house and hands Ryker an acoustic guitar, and then he proceeds to sit down on a white wooden box next to Knox. Ryker pulls a pick out of the strings and plays a cord before adjusting the tuning of the instrument. When he finds the sound that he’s looking for, he gives Knox a nod and then starts to play.
I don’t recognize the song until the first line of lyrics flow out of Knox. My mouth falls open of its own volition, and I’m completely blown away by the incredible voice pouring out of Knox. Skylar giggles and I can feel her eyes on me, but I can’t take mine off of Knox and Ryker. Ryker plays like he was made for it. There’s soul in Knox’s voice, smooth, silky tones touched by a hint of grit. He’s incredible.
One is the perfect complement to the other’s talent. Just when I think it can’t get any better, Kiere starts pounding a rhythm into the box that he’s sitting on and it takes the song to a whole other level. Knox’s voice goes up, and Kace starts singing, his lower tone creating a perfect harmony with Knox, and goosebumps rise from my skin.
They sing and play together, and I’m now in complete agreement with Skylar, this is my new favorite part of family night. The song ends, and she turns to me, expectantly.
“Incredible, right?”
“Understatement of the century, I definitely owe Knox my panties now,” I mumble, and she breaks into a fit of laughter.
Reese chuckles, and I’m suddenly painfully aware that their mom is sitting right next to me, and just heard me say that. I give her a sheepish look, and she chuckles even harder. I debate whether I should explain what I mean, but I figure pointing out Knox’s panty melting skills might not be the best topic to discuss with his mother. She pats my leg and gi
ves me a sweet look that tells me I’m off the hook.
Skylar runs a finger over the runes on my hand and leans in ever so slightly towards me.
“Are you guys going to tell us what these mean and why you all have matching ones, or are we all still supposed to pretend that we don’t see them?”
Alarm shoots through me as her words sink in.
I turn to her, not sure how to answer, but as I look into Skylar's sweet gaze, I realize that I don’t want Knox and Ryker to feel like they have to keep anything from people who obviously care so much about them. I also don’t want them to feel responsible for anything that might happen if we reveal my secrets and it goes wrong. If I put it all out there, the risk and consequences will hopefully land mostly on me.
“They’re runes. They do a lot of different things like create weapons, and channel different types of magic.” I pause for a moment. “So...uh...my magic works a little differently, we’ve discovered, and it marked the boys as mine, which is why we’re all matchy and shit now.”
I look from Skylar to Reese as the hushed confession seeps from me to wrap around her, changing her world with each reverent and nervous word I speak. I’m worried about what I might find in her eyes as my truth comes out, but all I see is the same hope and acceptance that’s been there all night.
“How did you get them?” A deep voice asks me, and I look up to find that the voice belongs to Merlin and he’s not the only one watching the exchange. They all are. I take a deep breath and get ready to drop the bomb on all of them. Reese must feel and see my hesitancy, and she takes my other hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I am a Sentinel. It’s a different race of magic user from casters. There aren’t a lot of us around anymore, or so I’m told. According to the readers, I might be the last of my kind, but I’m hoping somehow they’re wrong.”
“So the runes just marked my sons, and now you have to claim them?” Reese asks, her eyes tracing the symbols on the hand that she’s holding and then moving up to meet mine.
“Yes. I didn’t know the runes or my magic worked that way, but even if I had, I wouldn’t change my claim on your sons. They’re incredible, and I care very deeply about them. I would choose them regardless of my magic beating me to the punch. I am theirs, they are mine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
My confession hangs precariously in the quiet that blanketed the group. The silence is only breached by the sound of crackling, fire-touched logs, and the crickets that are serenading us with their night song.
“Just tell us one thing, Vinna, and I want you to think long and hard before you answer…” Trace tells me, his golden gaze serious and intimidating. “Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?”
His question takes me completely by surprise, and I have no idea where he’s going with this.
“Totally Team Jacob,” I announce, with only the smallest amount of hesitancy.
He shakes his head at me, disappointment swelling in his gaze.
“Did you even read the books? How could you choose Jacob? Edward is superior in every possible way!”
And just like that, the bomb I was worried was going to mess up everything for me and this family, turns into a war between glittering vampires and hot werewolves.
“Edward was a dick. He just made all these decisions without really thinking them through! Oh, let me just abandon you because I decide that it’s best, what’s that about? Jacob was there for her; he loved her in a beautiful way that built her up and made her better.”
“How dare you attack my Edward like that. He loved her more than himself; he was willing to make the hard decisions!”
My eyes betray the laugh that I’m trying to stifle at Trace’s passionate confession and clear fangirl love for Edward Cullen. Slowly a chant of sumo echoes around me until the demand is deafening, and Trace raises his hands to quiet the demanding members of his family.
“We sumo!” he announces, and the rest of the family hoots and cheers their approval. I look to Knox and Ryker not sure what the hell just happened, and Knox gives me a cat that got the cream grin.
“Oh Killer, our dad has no idea the pain he just unleashed on himself! This is going to be epic!”
Thirty minutes later, I’m laughing so hard I’m worried I’m going to pee my pants inside the massive sumo suit I’m wearing. I push the black bun-haired-helmet out of my face and watch as Trace rocks from side to side trying to figure out a way to get up from where he just landed sprawled out on his back. He looks like that little French Bulldog puppy on YouTube that can’t figure out how to get off its back, so it just rocks side to side in a hysterically adorable way.
From the minute I was forced into the sumo suit, to the first time I body slammed dad number five and watched him go flying, I haven’t been able to stop laughing. I wobble over to Knox, who’s bent over chortling away. I do the pee wiggle, although in this sumo suit I probably look like I’m shimming my large man breasts in his direction.
“Knox, I have to pee! Help me out of this thing before I defile it and break your dad’s heart.”
Knox laughs even harder, but he and Ryker start to pull the velcro apart and unzip it.
They both wipe tears out of their eyes and then trade pecks on my cheeks as I climb out of the suit and unbuckle the massive helmet.
“I demand a rematch!” Trace shouts from where he’s still wiggling side to side on his back.
“Know when you’re beat, Old Man,” Knox shouts at his dad through his tear-streaked laughter.
“Who said that? Old man? I’ll show you old… I demand a sumo!” he shouts from the ground.
“I walked right into that one,” Knox admits with a groan, as he takes the suit from me and starts climbing into it.
Best family night ever.
22
"Again, Vinna," Kallan shouts at me.
He may look like a young Jared Leto, but the resemblance is only skin deep. I’ve had the pleasure of discovering that Kallan’s true calling in life should be a drill instructor. He has an uncanny knack for insults, yelling, and pressure-tested results. He's been relentless when it comes to my training.
Initially, it was just when I trained with him, but now he's taken to joining me in my other tutoring sessions and yelling at me all through those too. If he wasn't so fucking effective, I'd have ripped his vocal cords out by now. To my utter displeasure and annoyance, I've discovered that I perform better under pressure. Apparently, a constant heightened state of stress and anger are the key ingredients I need to master my magic.
Over the past week, I trained every day with all of Enoch's coven. I spend the mornings with Becket training in Defensive magic. Mid-afternoon is spent training with Offensive and Elemental magic with Enoch. After lunch, the resident drill instructor, Kallan, works me through Elemental, Offensive and Defensive magic, and then I get to spar. Sparring is my favorite time of the day. I'm paired up with one of the others, and we work through various obstacle courses that Kallan creates. We make our way through as if we're in a battle, and we simultaneously attack and defend against the rest of the coven as they come at us.
It feels more like fun than work, and after a week of mock battles, I'm discovering that all of us are starting to act like a well-oiled battle machine. After the magic battles are complete, I work on healing with Nash for the rest of the evening. By the time dinner rolls around, I'm so exhausted that I barely have the energy to chew. It's getting significantly better, but yesterday Kallan insisted that I start training to use multiple branches of magic at the same time, and I've since then reverted back to a zombie-like state by six pm.
“Vinna, you’re distracted. Focus! Now, try again.”
I glare at Kallan, but he’s unfazed by the empty threats simmering in my eyes. I scan our surroundings and spot the perfect weapon. I don’t let my eyes rest on it too long; I don’t want to give myself away. I maintain the appearance that I’m still scanning my surroundings, and Kallan maintains the appearance that he’s only
watching me and not preparing for whatever I’m about to throw at him.
I call on my magic and work to keep it contained and focused on what I want, instead of allowing it to spark all over my body. I previously thought that standing around like a harbinger of doom while colorful magic crackled all over me was the definition of badass. Now, I realize that it’s actually evidence of lack of control. I’ve been working like crazy not to let my magic leak out, but I’ve been doing it unknowingly for so many years, it’s a hard habit to break.
My fingers twitch, and I strain to keep them still. It feels natural to use gestures to help direct my magic, but it also shows me for the amateur caster that I am. Man, Harry Potter made this look so much easier than it is. If only it was all about using wands and incantations. Magic floods my limbs and just when it’s about to spill over and out of my body, I taper my pull on it.
Almost out of nowhere, the dead tree trunk that was laying on its side goes hurtling toward Kallan. I open the tap on my magic and let it flow, causing the long-dead tree to pick up speed. Effortlessly, Kallan magics the trunk to explode, and dry bark rains down on both of us. Rocks begin to fly, and large chunks of tree bark stop mid-fall as Kallan and I start to attack each other with nature-supplied projectiles.
I look like some video game character as I dodge, incinerate, explode, and redirect the things Kallan sends at me. A man-sized boulder comes hurling out of nowhere, and my instincts are screaming at me to dive away and avoid being crushed. Instead, I grit through the rush of magic it takes to force the boulder to change directions. It slams down against a tree that snaps and falls toward Kallan.
Kallan’s focus moves from me to the tree tumbling toward him. I press my advantage by throwing the huge boulder at him as well. In an attempt to distract him further, I open the soil beneath him and then close it, trapping his feet. Kallan magically flings the trunk away from him and does the same with the boulder. He releases the ground’s hold on his legs and turns to renew his attack against me. He freezes when he takes in the sharp levitating pieces of bark surround him. The pieces of the exploded tree, that I’ve magically sharpened, inch closer toward him making the threat clear.