"Maybe I wouldn't kiss you like that after five years," she mused.
"Oh, yes, you will." He took her arm and steered her into his cousin's shop. "Well, well-" Morgana set down a malachite egg she'd been polishing. She'd had an excellent view of the show through her display window. "Another few minutes of that and you'd have stopped traffic."
"An experiment," Sebastian told her. "Morgana knows about the case." Even as Mel's brows drew together, he was continuing. "I don't keep secrets from my family."
"There's no need to worry." Morgana touched Sebastian's arm, but her eyes were on Mel. "We don't keep secrets from each other, but we've had plenty of experience in being- discrete with outsiders."
"I'm sorry. I'm not used to taking people into my confidence."
"It's a risky business," Morgana agreed. "Sebastian, Nash is in the back, grumbling about unloading a shipment. Run along and keep him company for a minute, will you?"
"If you like."
As Sebastian went into the back room, Morgana moved to the door and turned the Closed sign over. She wanted a moment of privacy. "Nash has gotten very protective," she said, turning back. "He worries about me handling boxes and lifting inventory."
"I guess that's natural. In your condition."
"I'm strong as an ox." She smiled and shrugged. "Besides, there are other ways of maneuvering heavy merchandise."
"Hmm" was all Mel could think of to say.
"We don't make a habit of flaunting what we are. Sebastian uses his gift publicly, but people think of it as something one might read about in a supermarket tabloid. They don't really understand what he is or what he has. As for me, the whispers and rumors are good business. And Ana- Ana has her own way of dealing with her talents."
"I really don't know what I'm supposed to say." Mel lifted her hands, then dropped them again. "I don't know if I'll ever take all this in. I never even bought into the tooth fairy."
"That's a pity. Then again, it seems to me that a very practical mind would be unable to deny what it sees. What it knows."
"I can't deny that he's different. That he has abilities- gifts. And that-" Frustrated, she let her words trail off again. "I've never met anyone like him before."
Morgana gave a low laugh. "Even among the different, Sebastian is unique. One day, perhaps, we'll have time for me to tell you stories. He was always competitive. It continues to infuriate him that he can't cast a decent spell with any real finesse."
Fascinated, Mel stepped closer. "Really?"
"Oh, yes. Of course, I don't tell him just how frustrating it is for me to have to go through all manner of stages to get even a glimpse of the things he can see simply by looking." She waved it away. "But those are old family rivalries. I wanted a moment with you because I realize that Sebastian trusts you enough, obviously cares for you enough, to have opened that part of his life to you."
"I-" Mel blew out a breath. What next? "We're working together," she said carefully. "And you could say that we have a kind of relationship. A personal relationship."
"I'm not going to intrude-overmuch-in that personal relationship. But he is family, and I love him very much. So I have to tell you-don't use this power you have to hurt him."
Mel was flabbergasted. "But you're the witch," she blurted out. Then she blinked. "What I mean is-"
"You said what you meant, aptly. Yes, I am a witch. But I'm also a woman. Who understands power better?"
Mel shook her head. "I don't know what you mean. And I certainly don't know how you think I could possibly hurt Sebastian. If you think I've put him in any danger by involving him in this case-"
"No." Eyes thoughtful, Morgana lifted a hand. "You really don't understand." Morgana's lips curved as her eyes cleared. It was obvious, beautifully obvious, that Mel hadn't a clue that Sebastian was in love with her. "How fascinating," she murmured. "And how delightful."
"Morgana, if you'd just make yourself clear-"
"Oh no, I'd hate to do that." She took both of Mel's hands. "Forgive me for confusing you. We Donovans tend to be protective of each other. I like you," she said with a charming smile. "Very much. I hope we'll be good friends." She gave Mel's hands a squeeze. "I'd like to give you something."
"It isn't necessary."
"Of course not," Morgana agreed, moving toward a display case. "But when I chose this stone, I knew that I would want it to belong to just the right person. Here." She took a slender blue wand attached to a thin silver chain out of the case.
"I can't take that. It must be valuable."
"Value's relative. You don't wear jewelry." Morgana slipped the chain over Mel's head. "But think of this as a talisman. Or a tool, if you like."
Though she'd never been particularly attracted to the things people hung from their ears or crowded on their fingers, she lifted the blue stone to eye level. It wasn't clear, but she could see hints of light through it. In length it was no longer than her thumbnail, but the hues in the stone ranged from pale blue to indigo. "What is it?"
"It's a blue tourmaline. It's an excellent aid for stress." And it was also an excellent channel for joining love with wisdom. But Morgana said nothing of that. "I imagine you have plenty of that in your work."
"My share, I guess. Thanks. It's nice."
"Morgana." Nash poked his head out of the storeroom door. "Oh, hi, Mel."
"Hello."
"Babe, there's this nut on the phone who wants to know something about green dioptaste on the fourth chakra."
"Customer," Morgana corrected wearily. "It's a customer, Nash."
"Yeah, right. Well this customer wants to expand his heart center." Nash winked at Mel. "Sounds pretty desperate to me."
"I'll take it." She gestured for Mel to follow.
"Know anything about chakras?" Nash murmured to Mel as she walked through the doorway.
"Do you eat it or dance to it?"
He grinned and patted her on the back. "I like you."
"There seems to be a lot of that going around."
Morgana walked into a room beyond. Mel studied the kitchenette, where Sebastian had made himself at home at a wooden table with a beer.
"Want one?"
"You bet." There was the smell of herbs again, from little pots growing on the windowsill. Morgana's voice rose and fell from the next room. "It's an interesting shop."
Sebastian handed her a bottle. "I see you picked up a trinket already."
"Oh." She fingered the stone. "Morgana gave it to me. It's pretty, isn't it?"
"Very."
"So." She turned to Nash. "I really didn't get a chance to tell you before. I love your movies. Especially Shape Shifter. It blew me away."
"Yeah?" He was rooting around in the cupboards for cookies. "It has a special place in my heart. Nothing like a sexy lycanthrope with a conscience."
"I like the way you make the illogical logical." She took a sip of beer. "I mean, you make the rules-they might be really weird rules-but then you follow them."
"Mel's big on rules," Sebastian put in.
"Sorry." Morgana stepped back in. "A slight emergency. Nash, you ate all the cookies already."
"All?" Disappointed, he closed the cupboard door.
"Every crumb." She turned to Sebastian. "I imagine you're wondering if the package came in."
"Yes."
She reached into her pocket and took out a small box of hammered silver. "I think you'll find it quite suitable."
He rose to take it from her. Their eyes met, held. "I trust your judgment."
"And I yours." She took his face in her hands and kissed him. "Blessed be, cousin." In a brisk change of mood, she reached for Nash. "Darling, come out in the shop with me. I want to move some things."
"But Mel was just feeding my ego."
"Heavy things," she said, and gave his hand a tug. "We'll see you soon I hope, Mel."
"Yes. Thanks again." The moment the door closed behind them, she looked at Sebastian. "What was that all about?"
"Morgana under
stood that I preferred to do this alone." He rubbed his thumb over the box as he watched her.
Mel's smile went a little nervous around the edges. "It's not going to hurt, is it?"
"Painless," he promised. At least for her. He opened the box, and offered it.
She peeked in, and would have taken a quick step away if she hadn't been standing with her back to the counter. Inside the ornate little box was a ring. Like the necklace Morgana had given her, it was silver, thin glistening wires woven into an intricate pattern around a center stone of delicate pink with a green rind rim.
"What is it?"
"It's also tourmaline," he told her. "What's called watermelon tourmaline, because of its colors." He took it out. Held it to the light. "Some say it can transfer energy between two people who are important to each other. On a practical level, which I'm sure will interest you, they're used in industry for electrical tuning circuits. They don't shatter at high frequencies like other crystals."
"That's interesting." Her throat was very dry. "But what's it for?"
Though it was not quite the way he might have liked it, it would have to do for now. "A wedding ring," he said, and put it into her hand.
"Excuse me?"
"We would hardly have been married five years without you having a ring."
"Oh." Surely she was just imagining that the ring was vibrating in her palm. "That makes sense. Sure. But why not a plain gold band?"
"Because I prefer this." With his first show of impatience, he plucked the ring out of her hand and shoved it on her finger.
"Okay, okay, don't get testy. It just seems like a lot of trouble when we could have gone by any department store and picked up-"
"Shut up."
She'd been busy playing with the ring as she spoke, but now she looked up, narrow-eyed. "Look, Donovan-"
"For once." He lifted her to her toes. "For once, do something my way without arguing, without questioning, without making me want to strangle you."
Her eyes heated. "I was stating my opinion. And if this is going to work, we'd better get one thing clear right now. There's no your way, there's no my way. There can only be our way."
Since no amount of searching helped him come up with an argument, he released her. "I have a remarkably even temper," he said, half to himself. "It very rarely flares, because power and temper are a dangerous mix."
Pouting a bit, she rubbed her arms where his fingers had dug in. "Yeah. Right."
"There's one rule, one unbreakable rule, that we live by in my world, Sutherland. 'An it harm none.' I take that very seriously. And for the first time in my life I've come across someone who tempts me to whip up a Spell that would have her suffering from all manner of unpleasant discomforts."
She sniffed and picked up her beer again. "You're all wind, Donovan. Your cousin told me you're lousy at spells."
"Oh, there are one or two I've had some luck with." He waited until she'd taken a good swallow of beer, then concentrated. Hard.
Mel choked, gasped and grabbed for her throat. It felt as though she'd just swallowed a slug of pure Kentucky moonshine.
"Particularly spells that involve the mind," Sebastian said smugly while she fought for breath.
"Cute. Real cute." Though the burning had faded, she set the beer aside. There was no point in taking chances. "I don't know what you're all bent out of shape about, Donovan. And I'd really appreciate it if you'd hold the tricks for Halloween, or April Fool's Day, or whenever you all break out for a few laughs."
"Laughs?" He said it much too quietly, taking a step forward. Mel took one to meet him, but whatever they might have done was postponed as the side door swung open.
"Oh." Anastasia, with her hair blowing into her eyes, held the door open with a hip as she balanced a tray of dried flowers. "Excuse me." She didn't need to go any closer to feel the tempers rattling like sabers in the air. "I'll come back later."
"Don't be silly." Sebastian nudged Mel aside-none too gently-and took the tray from his cousin. "Morgana's in the shop."
Hastily, Ana brushed her wayward hair away from her face. "I'll just go tell her I'm here. Nice to see you again, Mel." Ingrained manners had her offering a smile. Then her gaze fixed on the ring. "Oh. How beautiful. It looks like-" She hesitated, flicking a glance at Sebastian. "It looks like it was made for you."
"I'm just kind of borrowing it for a few weeks."
Ana looked at Mel again, and her eyes were kind. "I see. I doubt if I could bear to give something that wonderful back. May I?" Gently Ana took Mel's fingertips and lifted her hand. She recognized the stone as one Sebastian had owned and treasured most of his life. "Yes," she said. "It looks perfect on you."
"Thanks."
"Well, I only have a few minutes, so I'd better let you finish your argument." She tossed Sebastian a quick smile and went out into the shop.
Mel sat on the edge of the table and tilted her head. "Wanna fight?"
He picked up her half-finished beer. "There doesn't seem to be much point in it."
"No, there's not. Because I'm not mad at you. I'm nervous. I've never done anything this big before. Not that I'm afraid I can't handle it."
He sat on the table beside her. "Then what?"
"I guess it's the most important thing I've ever done, and I really- I really care about making it work. Then there's this other thing."
"What other thing?"
"This you-and-me thing. It's important, too."
He took her hand in his. "Yes, it is."
"And I don't want the lines between these two important things to be blurred or mixed up, because I really care about- I really care," she finished.
He brought her fingers to his lips. "So do I."
Sensing that the mood was friendly again, she smiled. "You know what I like about you, Donovan?"
"What?"
"You can do stuff like that-kissing-my-hand stuff. And not look goofy doing it."
"You humble me, Sutherland," he said in a strained voice. "You positively humble me."
Hours later, when the night was quiet and the moonlight dim, she turned to him in sleep. And in sleep her arms slid around him, her body curved to his. He brushed the hair back from her temples as she nestled her head on his shoulder. He rubbed his thumb over the stone on her finger. If he left it there, let his mind drift, he could join her in whatever dream her heart was weaving. It was tempting, almost as tempting as waking her.
Before he could decide which to choose, he had a flash of the stables, the smell of hay and sweat and the distressed whicker of the mare.
Mel blinked awake as she felt him pull away. "What? What?"
"Go back to sleep," he ordered, reaching for a shirt.
"Where are you going?"
"Psyche's ready to foal. I'm going to the stables."
"Oh." Without thinking, she climbed out to search for her clothes. "I'll go with you. Should we call the vet?"
"Ana will come."
"Oh." She fumbled with her buttons in the dark. "Should I call her?"
"Ana will come," he said again, and left her to finish dressing.
Mel hurried after him, pulling on boots on the run. "Should I, like, boil water or something?"
Halfway down the stairs, he stopped and kissed her. "For coffee. Thanks."
"They always boil water," she mumbled, trudging into the kitchen. By the time the coffee was scenting the room, she heard the sound of a car. "Three cups," Mel decided, figuring it was useless to question how Anastasia had known to come.
She found both cousins in the stables. Ana was kneeling beside the mare, murmuring. Beside her were two leather pouches and a rolled cloth.
"She's all right, isn't she?" Mel asked. "I mean, she's healthy?"
"Yes." Ana stroked Psyche's neck. "She's fine. Just fine." Her voice was as soothing as a cool breeze in the desert. The mare responded to it with a quiet whinny. "It won't take long. Relax, Sebastian. It's not the first foal to be born in the world."
"It's her first,"
he shot back, feeling foolish. He knew it would be all right. He could have told them what sex the foal would be. But that didn't make it any easier to wait while his beloved Psyche suffered through the pangs.
Mel offered him a mug. "Have some coffee, Papa. You could always go pace in the next stall with Eros."
"You might keep him calm, Sebastian," Ana tossed over her shoulder. "It'll help."
"All right."
"Coffee?" Mel eased into the stall to offer Ana a mug.
"Yes, a little." She sat back on her heels to sip.
"Sorry," Mel said when she saw Ana's eyes go wide. "I tend to make it strong."
"It's all right. It'll last me for the next couple of weeks." She opened a pouch and shook some dried leaves and petals into her hand.
"What's that?"
"Just some herbs," Ana said as she fed them to the mare. "To help her with the contractions." She chose three crystals from the other pouch and placed them on the mare's quivering side. She was murmuring now in Gaelic.
The crystals should slide off, Mel thought, staring at them. It was gravity, basic physics. But they remained steady, even as the laboring horse shuddered.
"You have good hands," Ana said. "Stroke her head."
Mel complied. "I really don't know anything about birthing. Well, I had to learn the basics when I was a cop, but I never- Maybe I should-"
"Just stroke her head," Ana repeated gently. "The rest is the most natural thing in the world."
Perhaps it was natural, Mel thought later as she, Sebastian, Ana and the mare labored to bring the foal into the world. But it was also miraculous. She was slick with sweat, her own and the horse's, wired from coffee, and giddy with the idea of helping life into the light.
A dozen times throughout the hours they worked she saw the changes in Ana's eyes. From cool calm gray to smoky concern. From warm amusement to such deep, depthless compassion that Mel's own eyes stung in response.
Once she'd been sure she saw pain in them, a wild, terrified pain that faded only after Sebastian spoke sharply to his cousin.
"Only to give her a moment's relief," she'd said, and Sebastian had shaken his head.
After that it had happened quickly, and Mel had scrambled to help.
"Oh, wow" was the best she could do as she stared at the mare going about the business of cleaning her new son. "I can't believe it. There he is. Just like that."
Books by Nora Roberts Page 266