Gathering Storm

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Gathering Storm Page 4

by Danann, Victoria


  “Neither one of us has ever done vacation. We’ve got years of paid leave in accrual. I figure it might take a couple of weeks just for workaholics like the two of us to figure out how to ‘do’ vacation. There’s never going to be a better time. Jefferson making the transition to research and training, well, you and I both know the place doesn’t really need someone like me.”

  Storm studied Sol for a minute, trying to read between the lines. With a guy like Sol there was always more going on that would be spoken out loud.

  "Tell you what. I'll come in for half a day and make sure the building is still standing for triple time and a half. Glen can handle the rest for trainee allowance."

  Sol pursed his lips. "Triple time and a half. That the best I can get?"

  "Final offer. I’ve learned a lot about negotiating from my wife. And I have a kid to send to college." Sol nodded his agreement like he couldn’t bring himself to vocalize the word yes. "When are you leaving?"

  "Day after tomorrow."

  "Got your speedo packed?"

  "Out!"

  Storm left laughing to himself, enjoying Sol’s discomfort with stepping outside his comfort zone immensely. He planned to get in a quick workout before heading home and was still chuckling when he got to the elevator.

  Elora was getting off. “What’s so funny?”

  “The image of Sol on a romantic vacation.”

  “Okay. Not sure I want to share your vision. But I wanted to ask you about something else. What’s the deal with Z Team? You have some bad history with them?”

  “Not exactly. I just think that bestowing knighthoods on them is ludicrous. It makes a laughing stock of us all.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, Elora, they’re loose cannons. Rebellious anarchists who are proud of their non-conformity, and their first loyalty is to their teammates and not to The Order.”

  Elora laughed in his face. “Storm! You just described B Team. It sounds like the only difference between them and us is that we dress better, sometimes, and don’t wear ink.”

  “You know what the other knights call them? Team Fuck Up! Say what you want, but B Team didn’t end up in Marrakesh, the last outpost before you fall off the Earth.”

  “Okay. Okay. Calm down. You just act like they’re a personal affront.”

  “They are. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “You resent them.”

  “Yes.” Elora tried to make her features as blank as possible. “You think I’m being a self-righteous prick.”

  “I did not say that.”

  “Well, you didn’t have to. I know you.”

  “Not that well.”

  “Really? Then tell me I’m wrong about what you were thinking.” Elora opened her mouth to argue, but ended up laughing because he’d nailed it. “Like I said. I. Know. You.”

  “Kay. Have a good day.”

  He smiled and saluted.

  The next morning Storm and Litha awoke to the sounds of a happy little girl coming from the next room. As they lay in bed and looked into each other’s eyes, each wondered if the other was reading their thoughts, which were a conflicting mixture of delight and dread. They couldn’t wait to see what changes in Rosie the morning might bring. At the same time, they were in no hurry to see what might have happened overnight.

  When they heard the sweetest voice in the universe say, “Momma. Daddy,” they watched each other as they mirrored a reaction that went from slack-jaw surprise to smiling eyes. Okay. So it wasn’t going to be an average family living an average life. Had either of them been naïve enough to expect that? Well, maybe. But people who were extra-human, married to other people who were extra-human, should be smart enough to know better. These were the thoughts that ran through the minds of Rosie’s parents as they watched each other silently come to terms with their unusual circumstances.

  Storm pulled Litha close for a quick snuggle and a smooch on the lips.

  “We better go get our little girl before she starts calling Child Protective Services.”

  Litha smiled. “Go ahead and joke, but she probably knows how to use a phone.”

  The two of them rolled out on opposite sides of the bed and then raced each other to the nursery giggling, eager to see what the day had in store for the three of them. As they suspected, it was an adventure in parenting. A unique adventure.

  Rosie was standing up holding onto the end of her crib, laughing at them as they came through the door. Her dark curly hair was a tousled mess, three inches longer than the day before and her eyes had settled into the deep emerald gemstone color of Litha’s.

  “Hey, little girl.” Litha reached to pick her up.

  Storm said, “Are you sure you should be lifting her? I don’t think your body is healing at the same rate she’s maturing.”

  “I’m fine,” Litha said smiling at Rosie.

  Rosie hummed and leaned toward Storm. She reached a fat little dimpled hand toward his cheek and patted. He was already a fool for the child, but that affectionate little gesture tightened the bindings around his heart making fatherhood feel almost painful.

  “Oh. So you like the big guy, do you? Well, who could blame you? He’s one of a kind. And you could certainly do worse.”

  He swallowed a lump that caught in his throat while he listened to Litha massage Rosie’s little spirit with soothing mother talk. She got the baby out of a tight wet nightgown to ready her for a bath. While they were so occupied, Storm called Glen and explained the situation.

  “I don’t have to tell you that this is FYI. She appears to be maturing about six months every day. If this continues, she’ll be grown in a month.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Exactly. Here’s the thing. It’s priority organization time and she’s my priority. I’m not going to miss being here while she grows up. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll get Deliverance to bring me to lunch every day at one and pick me up at two. If you need to bounce something off me, or run it by me, you’ll get an hour a day. Can you handle that?”

  “I think so. If a decision had to be made that I didn’t feel good about making on my own, I could get you on the phone. Right?”

  “Absolutely, but highly unlikely. You’ve got instincts that work overtime. I should probably call you with my parenting questions.”

  Glen laughed. “No, sir. Jefferson Unit’s not that hard to manage, but I’m not taking responsibility for that baby.”

  Litha padded into the kitchen barefoot carrying a clean, happy toddler on her hip. Storm relayed his decision and his conversation with Glen.

  “Can we arrange her schedule so that she’s napping then? At least for the first couple of days? If the pattern holds true, I’m guessing she’ll be too old for naps by the end of the week.”

  The wave of sadness that came over Litha’s face made his stomach clench.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He moved toward her with a purposeful determination that never failed to make her glad that Storm was her man. Fearlessness. Beautiful.

  Putting his arms around both his girls, he kissed Litha’s temple. “Baby, which thing do you think was the biggest clue that we weren’t candidates for an ordinary life:

  “A. The fact that you’re a witch?

  “B. The fact that you’re a demon’s daughter?

  “C. The fact that you’re a firestarter?

  “Or D. the fact that I’m a vampire hunter who’s also part demon?’

  That earned him a tentative smile. “We knew we signed on for an adventure. This is just part of it.”

  He turned her to face him and ducked down so he could look directly into her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t trade us for anything else. You know that. Right?” She nodded, trying to hide a misty sniffle. “We’re going to make every minute count. I’m still going to get to teach her to ride a bike. Even if I have to do it quick.”

  Litha cocked her head to the side. “That’s the second time you’ve me
ntioned that.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. Is there a reason why?”

  “Was a good memory for me. My dad out in the street in front of our house, full of encouragement. I guess I want to recreate it. Who taught you?”

  “Brother Morrighausey.” She laughed. “He was probably the last person in the world who ought to be teaching a coordination skill. He knew seven ancient languages but could barely walk without tripping.”

  Rosie laughed out loud, mimicking her mother, then said, “Maury!”

  Litha gave Rosie a strange look. “Yeah. That’s what we called him. And he was funny.”

  Rosie hiccupped another little giggle.

  CHAPTER 4

  Elora saw Monq’s profile pic come to the face of her phone, the ridiculous one with the mouse ears. She was en route to S2, where Monq’s research facilities were located, among other things.

  “I’m on my way. Hold on to your mouse costume or whatever else you might be wearing. Can’t wait to find out what’s got you in such a fit of impatience.”

  “Just hurry up.”

  Just then she pushed through the main lab door and said, “Okay!” as she closed the phone and dropped it in the outer pouch of her messenger bag.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. I’m the one who’s been working night and day to save your beautiful…,” Monq caught himself just before he finished that sentence with an unrefined word. “…self.”

  “Really? Well, if you’re going to persist in calling me young lady, I’m not sure I want to be saved. Just kill me now.” Monq ignored that as completely as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “And if you keep taking all my blood, I’m not going to be able to make enough milk for my elfling.”

  He waved his hand. “We’re done with that.” Then looking away as if something had caught his interest, he said, “At least I think so.

  “Here. Sit. Let me tell you the news.”

  “Should I call the press?”

  “This is not a joking matter, Elora.”

  “Lady Laiken.”

  “Is Rammel standing behind you with his hand up your shirt?”

  She looked stunned. “Monq! You made a joke!”

  “Pffft. Will you just stop and listen? Please?”

  “Yes, I will. I’m all yours.”

  “I never use your blood frivolously. In fact I used some that was collected before you left for Edinburgh to mutate a strain of rats for testing purposes.”

  “You did what?!?”

  “So I’ve been using the rats to test an airborne chemical that would weaken potential assailants from your home world.”

  “Deliverance says it’s called Stagsnare Dimension in his circles.”

  “Um-hum. Stagsnare Dimension. The biggest obstacle was coming up with a chemical solution that has no harmful side effects to other species that might frequent Jefferson Unit. So I’ve been testing on both normal rats and Elora rats.”

  “Elora rats? Please. I’m begging you. Tell me you did not name a species of rats Elora Rats.”

  Refusing to be distracted, he dismissed that with a characteristic wave of his hand. “And I think we’ve got it.”

  She stared and blinked a few times. “Are you saying that, in the event of an attack by natives of Stagsnare Dimension, you could gas the intruders without adverse effects to Jefferson personnel?”

  “Yes. I believe we understand each other.”

  “And they’ll be weakened to mimic indigenous physical ability?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not just terminate while you’re at it?”

  “Good question. Because then there would be side effects. Bad ones.”

  “Okay. So the assassins will lose the edge they would normally get from slipping to this dimension.” He nodded. “And that’s without any negative consequence to the rest of us. Including the tiniest of us,” she said pointedly.

  "Um. More or less. Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

  Elora's shoulders sagged as she sat back in the chair and sighed deeply. "It has been my experience that, when you ask that question, there’s usually a teeny weeny tiny tidbit of microscopic good news and a shitload of bad."

  "Young lady...!"

  “Especially when you add ‘more or less’ to that.”

  "Just give me the news."

  "Very well. There's no way to make you immune from the effects. It's what they call a trade-off. You wouldn’t retain superior strength and speed, but neither would others from your dimension of origin. They wouldn’t have any advantage over those who come to your aid. And there will always be people at Jefferson Unit ready to come to your aid. Capable people. So you’d have a better than good chance against them. It wouldn’t be just you. Alone.”

  It was easy to read both concern and sincerity on Monq’s face. There was no question in her mind that he cared about her in his own way. Maybe not as much as the Monq who had been her tutor growing up and had taught her everything from Latin to horseshoes, but still.

  “And you’re ready to test it on me. Monq. You do realize that I’m nursing.”

  He pursed his lips. “I can’t tell you what to do about that, but I think staying alive is more important. I can give you something to dry up your milk quickly and painlessly and without having any detrimental effect on your, uh, natural shape.” Monq turned pink when trying to communicate that last bit of info.

  “You mean feed Helm formula milk instead.”

  “You could wait until he weans naturally, but…”

  “I get it. I’ll talk it over with Ram tonight. Maybe I’ll look into baby formula.”

  “Already done. I put Allicent on it. We had some flown in with the last passing. Just in case. It’s expensive. Made in Switzerland.”

  “Just in case,” she said dryly. “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “I should hope so since that is my job.”

  When Ram finished music practice, he hurried “home” to the Jefferson Unit apartment he hoped would be temporary quarters. When he opened the door, he saw Elora sitting at the table next to Helm’s crib, hands on the portaputer keyboard.

  “Hey. What’s up?” With a Ram-style smile that lit up the room, he headed straight for his mate, gave her a kiss in passing on his way to pick up Helm, but made sure to linger long enough so that she knew it was heartfelt and not routine.

  As he lifted the baby, she said, “Something we should discuss.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “Hmmm. Depends on how you look at it. Can you sit?”

  Ram sat and listened intently without interrupting. “’Tis no question about what you’re goin’ to do. Is there?”

  She looked thoughtful. “I didn’t want to make a final decision without talking to you. I’ve done a little research and I think Helm will be okay so long as I still spend the same time with him and hold him the same way I would if I was nursing.”

  “Helm is strappin’. Just look at him.” She had to smile at the pride so evident in Ram’s voice. “What our boy needs is for his mum to be survivin’.”

  “So we’re decided.”

  “Great Paddy, Elora! O’ course.”

  An hour after Elora informed Monq of their decision, six of the trainees showed up at the apartment door wearing boyish expressions – a cross between sheepishly shy and eagerness to get a look at the private life of their instructor. Each was carrying two cases of expensive Swiss formula. Ram directed the stacking of the boxes while Elora smiled and thanked them for their help.

  Elsbeth stopped in after her shift in the clinic to give a crash course on the proper preparation of bottles. It wasn’t part of her nurses training, but she had a sister-in-law who had done bottle feeding.

  Elora walked Elsbeth down the hall to the elevator.

  “So don’t think I didn’t notice that special glow, which can only mean one thing where you’re concerned. Hot date.”

  “Not per se. More like a get together.” Elsbeth managed
to look coy, which was a remarkable feat considering the level of her worldliness and experience.

  Elora laughed in her face. “Keep it to yourself if you want. I’m just sayin’.”

  “Well, you know I’ve been seeing Dirk.”

  “No. Who’s Dirk?”

  “Fennimore?”

  “Oh. Dirk is his first name? I didn’t know that. The knights all call him Fenn.”

  “I think he goes by Fenn with them because of the razzing about his first name.”

  Elora nodded. “Yeah. I can see that.”

  “Anyway.”

  “Yes? Anyway? Go on.”

  Elsbeth grinned. “I like him.”

  “And that’s supposed to be a revelation?” Elora pulled her friend to a stop. “Really?”

  “Okay, yeah, I like him a lot,” she chuckled.

  “You really need to work on your impulsivity.”

  “Really?” Elsbeth looked concerned.

  “No! Not really! You need to borrow a nickel for the jar and go see Monq.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind. I guess that’s a service for knights. Forget I said anything. Back to Fenn… uh, Dirk. I’ve got to tell you it feels weird to call him that. Like my tongue is resisting.”

  They had just reached the elevator doors when Elsbeth leaned in and whispered, “I get it. I’m terrified that one of these nights I’m going to accidentally shout Dick instead of Dirk.”

  When the doors opened, none other than Sir Fennimore was standing there being treated to the sight of two grown women locked in a fit of giggles that would make any tween proud. Fenn, who lived about halfway down the section hallway on Elora’s floor, gave them a sexy little smile that said he was both charmed and amused.

  “Ladies.” He addressed both women, but had eyes only for Elsbeth. As he and Elsbeth changed places, her taking his place on the elevator, he looked down lowered lids with an expression of male smugness and said, “Later.” The unmistakable undertone filled the air with suggestion. Elora looked at Elsbeth and crossed her eyes.

 

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