by Skye, Sariah
Isla was slowing down some, so I took a quick moment to switch sides and I slowly stood with Trystan’s help, attempting to go see what was wrong or who was doing what to whom now. I didn’t need to search, though, because it found me.
“This place is insane.”
“Whatever do you mean?” I batted my lashes at my disgruntled eldest-daughter, Mila Romanello innocently as she frowned with annoyance when Trystan grabbed my ass, and ran away. “Hey, asshole!” I shouted after him, glaring down pointedly at the bundle in my arms.
“Och, sorry… got a little carried away.” Isla stirred again, indicating that she was finished, and Trystan came back up to me, grinning wider when he took the red-haired, green-eyed bundle in his hands. “Aw, hey little lassie. Are you getting tired again? Did your mother wear you out with those boobs of hers? I know they wear me out.” He looked up from Isla, and flashed me the naughtiest grin. I was about to protest with a comeback, but I didn’t have to.
“Oh my god, that’s so disgusting!” Mila pointed her finger down her throat and gagged, screwing up her beautiful, thirteen-year-old face into an expression of disgust.
Trystan laughed under his breath, shooting her a quick wink before turning back to Isla. “Sorry, lassie. Can’t help myself…”
I stifled my laugh as Mila continued to look horrified. She pointed a finger at him, and shook her head, her long brown hair bobbing as she did. “He’s disgusting, mother. What do you see in him?” I knew she really didn’t think he was disgusting. She loved him, probably almost as much as she loved her biological father. But she had too much of Mathias’ stern, broody behavior to allow herself to laugh. At first, anyway.
Grinning innocently at her, I said, “I’ll tell you when you’re grown up.” Mila clicked her tongue and groaned. I reached across the table and patted her hand and she tried to swipe it away but smiled reluctantly at me from across the table. An actual table now that almost took up the entire span of the room. We tore out the kitchen island years ago because we needed more room and a lower place to feed the kids; something we learned the hard way when Mila fell out of her high chair years ago. Thankfully she had her father’s hard-ass head, and toughness but still, it reminded us it was time to make a few changes. Like adding on to the house for more bedrooms, because with five kids and five large dogs plus a wolf it filled up—fast—and didn’t appear to be slowing down any time soon.
The added benefit of combining Avalon with our property? Meant anyone living here or visiting here often couldn’t die. Avalon healed all your ailments and was the proverbial fountain of youth. So, Sierra, Nessie and all the rest that I had ten years ago? Still alive and terrorizing everyone. It was fantastic.
“I’ll tell you what she liked about me!” Trystan called out from the living room. He was pacing the length of the room, rocking the baby in his arms and speaking quietly to her. It warmed my heart to see, just as it always did. He was about to open his mouth to say something raunchy, judging by the way the fiery glint in his eye heated, when Mathias came thundering down the stairs, hot as ever with his black suit over his wide shoulders and a pale yellow shirt, carrying a briefcase. He smoothed a hand over his brown hair, graying at the temples and making him look more regal and handsome than ever. I had no idea incubi could go gray, but he blamed his daughter for that, and me, second.
I’d take it, because he was so gorgeous with it. Trystan didn’t have it—yet—but the others did. Mathias claimed it’d happen when Mila was about a year old and learned to walk, and since the guys couldn’t have heart attacks, aneurysms, or die… the gray hair was a result.
“Damn you, Munro. Are you corrupting my child again?” He shot Trystan a dirty look.
“Uh, pretty sure he did that years ago, Dad,” Mila responded, with snark. Mathias crossed the room, his mouth slipping into a slow grin between us. “My brain is now completely rotten from all the horrible things he says.”
“You are too much like your mother,” Mathias replied, kissing me on the cheek briefly before moving around the table and attempting to kiss his teenaged daughter, but she grimaced and pulled away.
“Ugh! Did you even shave?” She scolded, and I pressed my hand to my lips and stifled my laugh, as Mathias stood there, anxiously scrubbing a hand over his chin.
“Is it that bad?” He asked me, and I rolled my eyes, reaching up and cupping his jaw.
“Nah, I like it, you know that.”
“Oh god… you know what, I’m out of here. You people are gross and I’m ashamed to call you my parents,” Mila said, scowling, and before anyone could protest she was out of her chair and in a flash of speed she inherited from her father, darted down the hallway in a blur.
Mathias stared blankly down the hallway a few moments before turning to me and furrowing his brow. “I’d rather put up with a barbarian than deal with a teenager, I think.”
“They are considerably more scary. The teenager, that is,” I agreed with a nod, but I pushed the idea of a scowling teenager out of my mind as I eyed my husband over with a grin forming on my face. “But you’re hot, so who cares?” Hard to believe after about thirteen years he, and the others, still turned me on just as much as before… we just acted on it a bit less, with all the insanity in the house. Of that, Mila was right.
“Good for date night?” He asked, with a slight grin, and I nodded intently, still loving the way the seams of his clothing always seemed to barely hold it together over his thick chest and wide shoulders and huge arms. Didn’t matter what new fabric debuted or manufacturing technique changed; the fact that nothing would ever totally fit him didn’t.
“Yes, it’s great for date night,” I replied, slowly pushing my chair back and wincing as I tried to stand. In a heartbeat, Mathias held out his hand to assist me; Avalon healing magic or not, it still couldn’t totally ease the nasty pain of childbirth, or the feeling it left behind as I healed.
How had I done this four times now?
I must be insane. Or disgusting as Mila said.
“You look incredible, my pretty wife…” he said in hushed tones, looking me over and admiring my flowy, lavender dress… and probably the breasts that were a little bigger than normal and peeked out of the low neckline.
“Nah, I—”
“—yes, you glow. Don’t argue with me, Dads know these things,” he said, flashing me a wink as he took my hand in his and began to bring it to his lips.
An incredibly loud sound of thunder rang out, and I shrieked loudly, as three voiced behind me started laughing uncontrollably. Probably the same voices that drew Mila out in the first place.
“Rhys!” Mathias bellowed angrily, putting a hand on my shoulder as I caught my breath. I turned around on my strappy sandals, catching nine-year-old twins Zayna and Jax Xiang, and their “affectionately” favorite uncle Rhys, chuckle as Zayna set off a thunderstorm in the house, enhanced by Rhys’ teleportation and Zayna’s invisibility.
Rhys set a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “I did nothing.”
“You’re such a bad influence on my children,” Xander said, with a hint of a sideways smile crooking his stern face as he entered from the bathroom. My heart fluttered seeing him in his dark pants and a long sleeved purple shirt as he rolled the sleeves up his arms.
“I am not!” Rhys protested, and promptly scowled when Jax blinked out, and re-appeared behind his dad, startling Xander so he jumped in the air. Somehow with the combination of my invisible magic and his storm magic in Jax—which we thought was a cute combination of Xander’s initials—it ended up being something like teleportation magic in him. I had no idea how he did it, but lovely Uncle Rhys taught him how to harness it.
“Dammit, Jax! So help me god you do that again and I’m taking away your VR for a week! I’m too old for this shit, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” He scolded, glaring down at his son who was almost taller than me now and came up to his shoulders.
Zayna snorted from behind us. “Yeah right, demons can�
�t do that. Nice try, though.” In a fit of giggles, Zayna clapped her hands and with Jax’s help, teleported out and probably upstairs, as we heard a loud shriek from a bedroom up there.
Xander shook his head, giving me a scathing look. “That’s your child, dearest.”
I shook my head. “I don’t take credit for that. That’s your fault.”
“No, it’s mine!” Rhys said proudly from behind us. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at him. Besides his hair—much shorter now—the wizard barely looked like he’d aged a day. And he didn’t mature any either all these years. But, I loved the idiot as much as I loved my own brother, so he got away with it. For now.
Mathias shook a finger at him. “Just wait until you have kids.”
“Oh yes, I have the perfect revenge…” Xander said, looking evil as he rubbed his hands together. Rhys brown eyes grew wide as saucers.
“Oh shit… you wouldn’t do that to Judah though, would you?” He asked, horrified and hopeful.
“Judah—” and when I said that I really meant Mordred, his husband of about ten years now, “—is too sweet for the likes of you.”
“Shows what you know. He’s your cousin, he’s not that sweet. Especially at night!” Rhys made some rude gestures that made me cringe.
“Eh, laddie, enough of that! There’s children present! And I’m not just talking about me, so shut up!” Trystan scolded.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Oh fine. What are you all dressed up for? And aren’t you missing one?” Rhys inquired.
I shrugged. “Mason’s been having a rough time lately. Doesn’t help that Zayna and Jax probably just scared the shit out of him. Bash is probably doing damage-control.” I sighed. Eleven-year-old Mason Porter, Bash’s and my son together, had been having a rough time in school. We weren’t sure why, but we assumed it had something to do with his magic. It was hard, as a combination of my magic, and whatever the guys had, we had little idea how it would actually manifest itself in our children. Mason was incredibly intelligent, like his dad, but somehow he had a hard time with it. We wondered if the siphon abilities were coming early because of his half-cambion side of him that was still hanging on to humanity and probably had no idea what it was doing.
“He’ll be fine,” Xander said, nodding sympathetically. Since Bash and Xander were very close, he particularly worried about Mason. We all did, but sometimes he could get Mase to confess a bit more to him, since he wasn’t officially dad. Baby steps, I guessed.
“Yeah…” I replied unconvinced, but when I watched the two of them come down the stairs, talking quietly, my heart fluttered and I felt a bit better. Mason was almost an entirely exact carbon copy of his dad physically, right down to the same steel-blue eyes. If I didn’t clearly remember the painful ordeal of giving birth to him, I wouldn’t actually believe he was mine.
“Heya laddie… how’s it goin’?” Trystan asked when Mason stomped on the bottom step. Bash paused on the landing, pressing his fingers to his temples and releasing a tense breath.
“I’m fine,” Mason replied, appearing fairly sullen, but he seemed to brighten some noticing Isla. He peered over Trystan’s arm and grinned at her, then up at Trystan who winked at him.
“I’m losing my mind…” Bash mouthed at me when I caught his eye, and I snickered quietly to myself.
“Stop. I know you’re talking about me.” After another glance at his baby sister, Mason dragged his feet, walking away over to me. “You look nice, Mom…”
I cocked a brow, shocked to hear the compliment from him. “How much did your dad pay you to say that?”
Bash let out a loud snort from the stairs. “Stars above Avie… do you really think I’d do that?”
“Yes, I do.” Mason smiled sheepishly and I shook my head.
“Well even if I wasn’t paid—and I’m not saying I was—I’d still think you looked nice. There, that was a free one. You’re welcome,” he said over his shoulder, making a face at his dad.
Bash groaned, and waved him off. “Go find your grandfather. Or uncle. Or whoever.”
Rhys still hovered about, snooping in our conversations. “Uh, I’m right here.”
“You are a not a baby-sitter. You are an instigator,” Bash replied.
Rhys wrinkled his nose at him, eyeing him up and down. “You’re not wearing that are you?”
“Huh?” Bash glanced down at himself, still wearing sweats and a t-shirt. “Oh yeah.”
Rhys clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Hopeless. If it wasn’t for me I don’t think any of you would get laid ever again…”
“Oh my god, gross.” Mason pretended to choke, wrapping his hands around his own neck, and pretended to play dead, falling to the ground.
“My thoughts exactly. Hmm…” Rhys apprised, eyeing my husband up and down before snapping his fingers. Swirling magic spun around Bash and suddenly he was dressed in a much more suitable-for-datenight pair of tight black pants with a slight shine to them and a tight gray, silky tee that hugged the lines of his trim waist and broad shoulders nicely. “Yeah, much better.”
“I have to agree, thanks Rhys,” I said, grinning at the wizard.
“Just doing my job. I want more nieces and nephews someday.” He wiggled his brow and Mason sat up quickly looking terrified.
“No! No more… I just… no…” And judging my the way I felt my uterus inside shudder itself, I felt the same way. But I knew it wouldn’t last, it never did. I don’t know how I’d done it four times now but within a couple months after, I always felt the urge to do it again. Pretty sure that was the Avalon influence.
“Where is Lachlan anyway? He’s late?” Mathias frowned, glancing at the wrist display on his arm.
“Go. I’ll wait around until he gets here. I’m sure he’s just… well I don’t wanna think about it actually,” Rhys replied, with a groan. I shuddered right along with him, actually.
“He’s right though. We have reservations for an hour from now and with traffic, it’s going to be a nightmare getting anywhere near Minneapolis,” Mathias instructed. He fixed his handsome face into a stern expression and glared at Rhys. “If any of these children are zombies, have cut hair, or frogs when we return, I will have revenge. Don’t doubt me on this…”
“Yeah I’ve been working on a great potion for impotence,” Bash said, his steel eyes flashing brightly with mischief.
Rhys’ eyes bugged out and he swallowed nervously. “Point proven. I’ll be good. Promise.”
Sighing, the five of us are glanced at each other, shaking our heads. “At least no one can really get hurt here and Jude is right next door…” I muttered.
“Go Mom. We’ll be fine,” Mason insisted, and shooed me away. I exchanged an expectant look with Bash and shrugged.
“Remember Rhys. Impotence. A little pill won’t fix it either,” Bash shook a finger in his face, while Mason gagged at the very notion of it. How he had any idea what it was, I wasn’t sure, but living on a piece of land with the seductive magic of Avalon, he probably saw more things than he probably should, and the guys would have had to indulge him of the truth of the birds and bees really early.
The French doors opened suddenly and in burst Lachlan, with Guinevere in tow, grinning widely. “All right let the fun begin. Grandpa’s here and I’ve got lots planned for you.”
Mason’s face brightened and despite being an angsty young man he didn’t hesitate to charge the distance between them and toss himself at his grandfather. “Holy crap, did you grow since I last saw you?”
Mason snorted. “You just saw me two days ago.”
“That’s my whole point!” Mason just grinned and blushed proudly.
“Jeez, I wish I could get that sort of reception from him,” Bash said, frowning slightly.
“Oh stop, Sebastian. You know it’s because I bribe them to love me.” Lachlan insisted, and Guinevere produced a large bag of what was probably a bunch of junk food. Mason cheered, grabbing at it.
“Stars above… they’ll be the
first immortal children with clogged arteries,” Mathias mused, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Lies, all lies.” Lachlan insisted. Guinevere walked over to me, setting the bag down on the table and took my hand.
“How are you feeling?” she asked with all the motherly concern my real mother lacked. In the past ten years Guinevere had been more my mother than Morgaine had, but Morgaine and I had managed to come to an understanding. She still lived in her little cottage at the edge of her property and we spoke often but we were never really close again. Obviously…
I shrugged. “Still sore. But I’ll be fine,” I replied, stepping forward haggardly, and giving her a quick hug.
“That’s exactly why you need to get out of here, relax and stuff,” Lachlan insisted, moving over to Trystan and holding out his arms. Hesitantly, Trystan kissed his daughter’s forehead and handed her off to her grandfather, sighing heavily.
“Hard the first time,” Xander said, patting his shoulder. “It gets easier, trust me.”
“Aye…” Trystan replied begrudgingly. “Well, let’s go before someone starts bleeding and freaks Avie out, huh?”
“Where’s Gavin? I thought he was coming?” I asked Guinevere.
She laughed gently. “He got caught up in a jousting tourney on Camelot or something. He’s teaching everyone to play…what was it called again?”
“Hockey,” Lachlan supplied, and Guinevere snapped her fingers and nodded.
“Yes, that. Strange sport, I do not think I’ll ever get the idea behind it,” she said, frowning.
We were interrupted by the sound of thunder shaking the room—again—and Zayna and Jax appeared again, chuckling deviously.
Lachlan’s gaze tracked angrily over to Rhys who was still milling about in the great room. “Merlin, what did you teach my grandchildren?”
“Nothing! I’m out! Have fun, Avie! Get laid!” With that, Rhys teleported out, probably for his house next door. With luck, Jude would scold him for something—anything—and I’d have a little bit of revenge.