Misunderstood Miracles

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  “Only the power to entertain and annoy,” I respond through a snort.

  She’s quiet for a long while, pensive. Alannah’s small hands are clasped in her lap while her brow is in crinkled in thought.

  “What happened to your birth mother?” she asks cautiously.

  “No clue. I showed up on Sorcha’s porch with a note saying my mom was dead, and I would be too if they found me. Sorcha took that shit seriously. She said there was a woman found dead around that time, a mugging victim. No baby was reported missing though. She says the government covered it up. Magical powers and a conspiracy theorist. There were never boring days in our house.”

  “Kane, this is crazy,” she announces like I don’t already know this.

  “Welcome to my life, Doc.”

  “You said the government people came for you before. What happened?”

  “I was in a car accident on my sixteenth birthday. Some asshole plowed into Sorcha’s truck while I was driving home. I didn’t have a license and pretended to be really confused when the paramedics showed up. I didn’t know what I was doing at the time, but I didn’t want them to know about me. Sorcha homeschooled me, and we pretty much kept to ourselves with Bert. Her lover,” I say with a gag.

  Alannah snickers and leans in closer to listen to me. Without thought, I thread my fingers through hers and place our intertwined hands in my lap.

  “I just planned on calling Sorcha and Bert from the hospital. I knew they’d deal with it. The guy who hit me was all banged up, and there wasn’t a scratch on me. I don’t know what happened at the hospital, but I saw the suits come in about a half hour later. I knew they were there for me. So I took off out the back, stole a bike and flew home. Bert started training me that day. He’s a Vietnam vet and as crazy as Sorcha with his government theories. They decided that I needed to be able to protect myself so the government couldn’t capture me to do Nazi-type experiments on me. When I turned eighteen, I decided to put my skills to work.”

  “Do Sorcha and Bert know what you do?”

  “Yeah. Sorcha wouldn’t let me kill a spider, but she has no issue with me doling out punishment to drug kingpins and human traffickers. There’s no understanding her logic.”

  “You’re an intriguing man, Kane. Is that your real name?” she asks tentatively.

  “Kane Rand. Warrior shield. That’s what my name means in Irish or Gaelic or some such shit. Sorcha’s devoted to her heritage.”

  “It’s the perfect name for you,” she compliments, squeezing my hand.

  “We’re almost there,” I say, ignoring the stupid feeling in my stomach.

  “Where’s there?”

  “Sorcha’s. You’ll get to see crazy in action.”

  “You’re taking me to your mother’s house?!” she shrieks, looking around the car for an exit.

  I chuckle at her reaction, tugging her closer to me.

  “Nervous?” I tease her.

  “I’m not in any condition to be meeting your parents! I’m a mess. I don’t have a gift with me. This is a disaster,” she mutters into her hand that’s now covering her face.

  “Doc, she’s not gonna give a shit about any of that. She’ll just be happy we’re there, and she can try to fix my concussion with some weird brew she’ll make me.”

  I lean over and press my lips to her head quickly. I’m kind of nervous too. Not that I’m admitting that. I’ve never taken a woman home. Of course I haven’t, I’ve only fucked hookers. But if I had ever been in a normal relationship and brought a woman home, Sorcha wouldn’t give a shit. She’s a free spirit and only expects me to be happy in life. I love the woman though, and her opinion matters to me.

  “What are you gonna tell them about me?” she whispers, looking away from me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean,” she grumbles.

  “I don’t lie to Sorcha and Bert.”

  “Okay. So I’m the doctor who sprung you outta the hospital when government people showed up and the niece of Caelan O’Donnell. And I’m with you because you need to protect me now since the government people are poking around and someone’s taken out a contract on you, maybe to try to get to me and my mother,” she drones clinically.

  “That’s the truth, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ about, Alannah,” I growl, getting irritated at her avoiding what happened between us earlier, and her fucking heartfelt confession that rocked me to my core.

  “So I’m the woman who gave you half a hand job in your kitchen then?”

  I pull off the road at the end of Sorcha’s mile long driveway and flip on the interior lights so I can look directly into Alannah’s eyes.

  “Did you not lay your shit on the line with me earlier?” I grind out, leaning into her face.

  “You know I did and then when I tried to run into your arms after you were in a crazy gun battle in the middle of the street, you shoved me away like my presence disgusted you,” she says with pain in her voice.

  I grab her cheeks and pull her face toward mine, touching our foreheads together.

  “I was covered in fuckin’ water. I didn’t want you to get wet, Alannah. I didn’t find a coat for you, and we needed to move. I couldn’t have you freezing in the SUV. I needed to be focused so I could keep you safe,” I explain plainly.

  “Oh,” she whispers.

  “You told me you need me. I fuckin’ feel it when I’m around you. I like that shit. This is new for me. Like hours of being new for me. So bear with me a bit. I’ve spent thirty years on my own other than Sorcha, Bert, Chann and Caelan. I want you, Alannah. Don’t question that with me. It’ll piss me the fuck off. But my life is a shit storm within a clusterfuck right now. Not the best time to jump into the dating world.”

  “This is the strangest first date I’ve ever been on,” she responds with lightness in her tone.

  “Think it’s better than the date you were supposed to be on?” I ask, trying to match her lightness, but it comes out harsh and accusatory.

  I’m new at this. And I have wacked out concussion brain. I’ll get better.

  “Jealous?” Alannah teases.

  “Just tryin’ to figure out where you were plannin’ on spendin’ the night with that bag stored in your car and who I need to kill, Doc.”

  She pulls away from my grasp to scowl at me.

  “I’m not a whore, Kane Rand,” she snarls. “I always have an overnight bag in my car. I’m a surgeon on call a lot. That means I need new clothes on occasion. And my blind date wasn’t getting in my pants or my dress. It’s the first date I agreed to go on since my dad died. College, med school and residency kinda took up all my time.”

  Yeah, I suck at this.

  “I’m a little territorial,” I apologize weakly.

  “Unfortunately, that’s one of the things I like about you. The night of the funeral when you held me, you growled at Caelan when he led me away from you. A day when I felt alone and like utter shit, you made me feel wanted and cared for. I get the alpha male, I’m the boss shit, Kane. Just be careful how you go about it where my feelings are concerned.”

  “I hope you’re on birth control because I didn’t pack any condoms, and Sorcha won’t have any,” I respond, throwing the SUV in drive.

  “Huh?” she asks, puzzled at my bizarre reaction.

  “Twice today you’ve said shit that makes me feel so fuckin’ good, I can’t put it into words. So I’m gonna bury my dick inside you and show you how good it feels. Knockin’ you up after spendin’ a couple days together doesn’t seem responsible. But I don’t give a flyin’ fuck about that right now,” I growl with sex dripping off my tongue, caressing each syllable.

  “I’m not on birth control,” Alannah says quietly.

  “Spray and pray it is,” I respond decidedly, not giving her an option.

  There’s no way in hell I’m breathing and not fucking her. Consequences be damned.

  “You’ve slept with a lot of hookers. Probably not smart for me to hav
e unprotected sex with you. That’s a good way to get somethin’ that doesn’t wash off,” she scoffs.

  “There you go with that mouth again,” I groan. “I’ve only slept with three hookers in twelve years. The same hookers that are tested monthly to be in Caelan’s stables. I’m clean. Any other problems? ’Cause we’re about to pull up at the house, and I don’t really wanna have this conversation anymore.”

  “What if you get me pregnant? That’s a pretty good fuckin’ question right about now.”

  “Then we have a baby.”

  “Just like that? Are you insane?!” she shrieks.

  “I think it takes about nine months. So no, not just like that,” I snark.

  “I get that you’re horny. But I’m not about to get pregnant after knowing you for like five minutes. That’s nuts, Kane. You can’t be serious.”

  “Do you want kids, Alannah?” I change tactics.

  “Someday.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “What?!”

  “Do you love me?” I repeat the simple question.

  “Of course not. I don’t even know you.”

  “You’re lying, but I’ll take that right now. So you like me a lot. You want kids. I’ve got a shitload of money so I can take care of you. And now that I’ve decided I’m doin’ this, I’m not lettin’ you go. You’re stuck with me until someone figures out how to off me.”

  “A true romantic,” she drones, rolling her big blue eyes.

  “You want a ring? Sorcha’s savin’ one for me, and she’ll do a handfasting ceremony if I ask her.”

  “You’re traumatic brain injury is starting to concern me. Let’s get you in the house so I can look you over. Does a CT-scan work on your skin? I think we should try to get you in with a neuro specialist in the morning regardless.”

  “My head’s fine. How long did your parents wait to get married?” I ask the question I already know the answer to.

  “Twelve hours,” she grumbles.

  “We’ve got ’em beat by more than double the time, Doc.”

  “I’m not marrying you. I’m not letting you get me pregnant. We’re at your parents’ house for fuck’s sake. I’m not even sleepin’ in the same room as you while we’re here,” she dictates, swinging her legs out of the SUV as I pull up at the house I grew up in.

  It’s a simple cottage in the woods. When I was a kid, it reminded me of the witch’s cottage in Hansel and Gretel. Without the eating of children and oven murder.

  I round the hood as Sorcha floats out of the front door in a flowing emerald dress, making her look as ethereal as she always does. Her bright red hair hangs in ringlets down to her thin waist. She’s covered in silver jewelry that tinkles as she moves while her green eyes shimmer with love. Her thin mouth spreads into a massive smile as she throws her body into my arms.

  “I knew you were coming!” she states proudly. “I told Bert you’d be here tonight. Didn’t I tell you, Bert?”

  He comes out of the house with a smile on his wrinkled face, his grey hair is still high and tight. Bert’s eyes are a blue so pale they almost look white as he claps me on the back.

  “She said you were comin’,” he agrees with her craziness. “She didn’t tell me you were bringin’ a guest.”

  Sorcha rips herself out of my embrace and spins to look at Alannah, who’s hovering near the SUV with a nervous look on her face.

  “Kane Rand, you’ve brought me your future wife and didn’t bother to warn me,” she scolds sweetly.

  “No,” Alannah gasps. “I’m not…I’m…Alannah. Missus Rand, I’m Alannah Carey. A friend of Kane’s.” She sticks her hand out professionally as Sorcha wraps her in a rough hug, shaking her tiny body from side to side.

  “I’m not Missus Rand. That’ll be you, Alannah. Beautiful Irish name. It means darling child, right?” Sorcha asks, setting a very confused and embarrassed Alannah back.

  “Yes,” she rasps, darting her eyes to me for help.

  “Are you pregnant? I have a feel for these things,” Sorcha says, leaning in to look deeply at Alannah’s eyes.

  I told you the woman’s nuts.

  When Sorcha starts checking Alannah’s hair and skin for who the hell knows what, I step in.

  “Sorcha, it’s cold. Let’s go in. I need your help with something.”

  “I know. Your head. I’ve got somethin’ in the kitchen for you. Been putting it together all day,” Sorcha responds with a knowing smile. “Come on. Let’s warm you up with some tea.”

  She yanks Alannah’s body close to hers and leads her into the house.

  “I’ll secure the perimeter. Anyone follow you?” Bert asks seriously, pulling a shotgun out of his coat.

  “Lost any tails we had back in the city.”

  He’s not psychic, and neither is Sorcha, but me showing up out of the blue at night, means I’m in trouble. Bert’s crazy. He’s also a good soldier.

  He nods and heads over to his ATV before darting toward the front of the property. He’s got it booby-trapped, so I’m not too worried about anyone sneaking up on us. I still feel better knowing he’s got my back. I can finally relax.

  I stride through the front door of the cottage to be hit in the face with warmth and memories. There’s a massive fire raging in the open fireplace surrounded by stone. Rich jewel tone furniture covers all of the small floor space while floor to ceiling mahogany bookshelves line every wall.

  I make my way into the kitchen where I can hear Sorcha babbling about holistic medicine and herbs. Every white tiled counter is covered in drying leaves, books, pots and other shit. It’s always been like this. It’s not messy so much as it’s busy. She makes the space work for her.

  “There you are,” Sorcha greets me like it’s been hours since she saw me last. “Drink this and then another mug in twenty minutes.”

  She passes me a navy mug with sludge in it that smells like sewage.

  “This smells like shit, Sorcha,” I complain like a little kid.

  “Tastes like it too. Drink up.”

  I gag the concoction down. And I mean gag until the point it comes back up, and I have to force it back down. I set the mug in the sink when I’m done and breathe through the nausea as Alannah snickers at me from a stool on the other side of the counter.

  “I’ve got something terrific for morning sickness,” Sorcha exclaims, rummaging through her bright yellow cupboards.

  “I’m not pregnant, Sorcha,” Alannah says sweetly.

  Sorcha stands up and comes close to her face, studying her again.

  “The spell I did had fertility, Kane. She’s not on birth control. I can see her ovaries are primed for ovulation. Her skin is so dewy. You’re not putting that disgusting latex on your body are you?” Sorcha asks, truly pissed at the idea that I would use a condom.

  “We’re just friends,” Alannah urges Sorcha to understand her lie.

  “Darling child, you’re a terrible liar. It’s not good for your spirit to lie. It’ll rot your insides. That’s what causes cancer.”

  I snort as Alannah’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

  A timer dings, and Sorcha spins away from Alannah to grab something that smells awesome out of the oven. I know what it is before I see it.

  “Spinach and feta quiche. Just for you,” Sorcha says with the motherly tone she swears she doesn’t possess.

  Growing up vegetarian sucked. I have no idea how I ended up as big as I am. Bert finally put his foot down when I was sixteen and training, saying I needed animal protein to grow. Sorcha made him buy a cow and butcher it himself. Then she allowed him to get chickens. That was it. After I moved out, all the meat and chickens were gone.

  Spinach and feta quiche is still my favorite meal in the world.

  Sorcha shoos Alannah and me to the small kitchen table and serves us each a gigantic slice of quiche after forcing more sewage down my throat.

  I have to admit. My head doesn’t hurt at all, and I’m thinking clearer than I have since the building collap
sed on me.

  “You feel better now,” Sorcha announces triumphantly.

  I nod and dig into my food as Alannah does the same. She moans around her fork, and my dick gets painfully hard.

  “Sorcha, this is amazing,” Alannah says after another moan.

  “You better stop makin’ those sounds before my Kane has his way with you on that table. It’s seen enough use today.”

  “Gross, Sorcha,” I complain, picking my plate up away from the place her ass probably was earlier.

  Alannah chokes loudly on a bite of food and Sorcha yanks her arms above her head, pounding her forcefully.

  “Thanks,” Alannah croaks after gulping down some water.

  Bert strides in the house nodding in my direction that all is secure. Once he stores his shotgun next to the front door, he gathers up Sorcha in his arms and nuzzles his stubbled face into her neck. It sounds sweet, but it’s disgusting to watch them go at it.

  When his hands start roaming, Alannah and I divert our eyes, locking on each other. We both start to laugh like little kids. I feel like I’m a kid again when I’m in this house.

  “Well, we’ll leave you to it,” Sorcha says with a husky voice that makes me shudder. “You sleep well.” Then she starts chanting around my head before kissing my hair.

  “Make yourself at home, Alannah,” she murmurs lovingly as she presses her lips to Alannah’s cheek and then chants around her the same way.

  When Sorcha’s satisfied she’s protected us for the evening, she drags Bert to the living room and then beyond it to their bedroom. I’m thankful my room is on the other side of the house. You can only hear them going at it when they get super kinky. Fingers crossed this is a vanilla night.

  “Holy shit,” Alannah rasps.

  “I told you,” I reply around a mouthful of quiche.

  “I thought you were over exaggerating.”

  “I don’t lie, Alannah. It causes cancer,” I deadpan, and she busts out with a throaty laugh, tipping her head back as the greatest smile I’ve ever seen graces her stunning face.

  “How the hell do you come from those people?” she asks once she calms down.

  “I kill people for a living, Alannah. I’m not exactly normal,” I point out, stealing the last of her quiche.