One Second (Seven Series Book 7) (20 page)

“Stubborn old wildcat,” she said, clucking her tongue.

A smile curved up his cheek, and his eyes danced with amusement. “I thought you were a cat lady,” he said gruffly.

She picked his hat up off the floor and pulled him out of Austin’s grip. “Come on, mountain man. Show me where you’re going to build my new bookshelf.”

“What bookshelf?” he asked, following her out of the kitchen.

Wheeler saluted us with two fingers and followed behind them.

“Austin, come sit down,” I said, nodding toward the head of the table.

He pulled out a chair and took a seat, Charlie on his right and April on his left. Reno stepped over the bench and sat next to Charlie, who became uncomfortable due to the close proximity of April’s mate.

Austin steepled his fingers. “What are we going to do about this situation?”

“She’s not moving in with you. I don’t care if you’re her Creator or not,” Reno said matter-of-factly. “You don’t go making little sparklers without taking responsibility.”

April leaned forward and said quietly, “If you call me a sparkler one more time, you’re sleeping outside.”

I tried to stifle a laugh but felt it tickling the back of my throat.

“We’ve got ourselves a situation here, one that’s going to involve you whether you like it or not,” Austin began. He folded his arms and kept his eyes locked on Charlie. “We’re not a pack that discriminates, so April being a Mage isn’t a big deal. What
is
a big deal is that she has no idea what to do with that. You have a responsibility, but Reno’s right. Mage rules or not, I don’t want April moving out of this house to live with you or any other Mage. That’s not the Shifter way.”

“She’s not a Shifter,” Charlie reminded him. “And I never claimed to want her.”

April’s eyes flashed up.

Guilt crossed Charlie’s expression, and when he frowned, several long lines etched in his forehead. “I’ve never been in this situation, and I don’t have a master plan. I’ll settle my debts with Maddox to make you happy, but money doesn’t govern my life. The only debt worth paying is a life for a life, and that’s what I owed April for what I’d taken. The fates won’t let you run from that kind of debt; that’s why they put her back in my life. I can’t take it back, and I don’t know what you want from me.”

Austin flattened his hands on the table. “I want you to take responsibility. From what I understand, a Creator is like a father to their progeny. You have a duty to follow through with what you started. I don’t know the first damn thing about her gifts or your laws. Is she supposed to go to the Mageri? Do I need to worry about juicers every time we go out?”

Charlie played with a saltshaker on the table. “By law, I have to present her to the Mageri Council in this territory to explain the situation and get her officially listed in their books. I didn’t follow protocol, but she’s been a trusted human in our world, and I’ll just get a slap on the wrist. They’ll measure her abilities and record any rare gifts—whatever they are. Every Mage has common gifts we all can do—like flashing, the ability to tell direction, healing, that kind of thing. But we also have at least one rare talent—a genetic ace. Sometimes we discover it right away, and other times it takes years. It’s best to conceal what makes you powerful, or your enemies will use it against you,” he said, turning his attention to April.

“How am I supposed to know what they are? I can’t even run across the kitchen.”

He leaned forward, humor in his voice. “Well, you’re doing it all wrong then.”

“Maybe you should teach her,” I suggested. “Living with you is obviously out of the question since she’s Reno’s mate, but you need to stick around and properly educate her.”

April looked over her shoulder at me and whispered, “Lexi, I have a shop to run.”

“April, I’m the boss, and the shop is something I can handle.”

She cast a critical eye at my flat stomach. “Oh? Because for the next nine months, I think the only thing you’ll be handling is a carton of ice cream.”

Austin snorted and sat back in his chair, rocking in silent laughter.

“Laugh it up,” I said. “I know where you hid those fringed gloves, and I’ve got a shiny pair of scissors.”

Charlie held out his hands—palms up—and tiny threads of blue light floated from his fingertips.

April gasped and clenched her fists, mesmerized.

Reno scooted away and made a reflexive move for the gun he wasn’t wearing this morning.

“You have core energy,” Charlie began. “It’s a well that holds the very essence of what keeps you immortal. A fountain of youth. It’s also like a power plant, and if you don’t learn to control it, then it will control you.”

The light dissipated, and he flattened his hands on the table.

April brushed a swath of hair away from her eyes. “I can’t do it.”

“It takes focus.”

Reno leaned in real tight. “You sayin’ my girl can’t focus?”

“It requires concentrating a strong emotion and funneling that energy. But she also has to learn to put it back.”

April stared at her hands with such intensity that we all quieted. A few sparks of blue light came out, and she let go of a breath.

“Very good.” Charlie smiled approvingly. “Now pull it back. The most dangerous thing for a young Learner is not knowing how to temper that energy. If you let it go too far, it’ll consume you—knock you to your knees and make you sleep for hours, kind of like a reverse energy vacuum. You can’t use your energy against another Mage because all it does is give them more power. If you’re ever in a fight with one, then you’ll have to harness that energy so it won’t put you in danger. Now focus.”

April squeezed her hands into fists, and while the light had dissipated, it looked like she was struggling with something.

“I think I did it,” she said on an exhale. “It’s not there anymore.”

Reno rubbed his face with both hands, murmuring quietly.

I blinked hard, suddenly feeling out of breath. Faster than I could track. Austin was out of his chair and kneeling to my left. “Lexi, what’s wrong?”

“I just got dizzy for a second.”

“That wasn’t me, was it?” April asked worriedly.

Charlie shook his head. “No, April. Unless you touch someone, your light can’t hurt them.”

“It’s not that. I’m fine,” I said, waving my hand.

Austin took hold of my chin and turned me to face him. He studied me with those beautiful ice-blue eyes. Then he slid his arm beneath my knees and lifted me up. “No, you’re not fine. You’re going to bed.”

He hurried out of the room, leaving our guest at the mercy of Reno.

“You take such good care of me,” I said, nuzzling against him.

He crossed the living room, where Denver was asleep on the couch. “How’s your arm? Maybe the salve has something to do with it.”

I wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders as he hiked up the stairs. “Don’t let anyone see me like this,” I whispered.

“Like what?”

“Weak.”

“Is something wrong?” Naya asked, standing in the hall in her fuzzy red slippers.

“Out of the way,” Austin boomed. “I’m making love to my woman.”

“Now
that’s
what I like to hear,” she purred.

“Nice cover,” I whispered, pinching the small cleft in his chin.

He shouldered the door open and kicked it shut with his heel. Austin set me down on the bed and suddenly pulled my shirt up.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Austin pressed his lips against my belly. “Daddy’s here,” he whispered. “Are you giving your mom a hard time again?”

I ran my fingers through his unkempt hair, feeling his whiskers lightly scratching against my skin. He continued with petal-soft kisses, telling our child about the night when he’d fallen in love with me by the lakeshore—the way the wind blew my hair back, how I was a terrible singer, the silly pajamas I wore.

God, I loved that story.

Our story.

“Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“Does it ever scare you?”

He lifted his head. “What?”

“That we just might have this baby.”

He crawled on top of me and balanced on his elbows. “Oh, we’re having this baby. What’s been bugging you?”

“I’m scared I’ll make an awful mother. I’m raising a Packmaster’s baby; that’s a lot of pressure.”

He rubbed his nose against mine. “You’re not raising him alone.”

“All these attacks are happening, and I’m afraid…”

His face tightened. “No one, and I mean
no one
, is going to hurt my child. We can’t stop hell from knocking at our door, but that doesn’t mean we should stop living because we know it’s coming.”

“I don’t want to go to war with a baby. It’s hard enough losing one before they’re born, but—”

“Shhh.” Austin kissed my mouth reverently. “We’re not losing him.”

I sniffed. “Or her.”

“Him,” he repeated.

The way he said it caught my attention. “What makes you think it’s a boy?”

Austin shook his head. “I can sense a strong alpha in there.”

I smiled. “Maybe that’s our headstrong little girl, just like her mother.”

He flopped over to my right side. “We’ll see. Should we talk about names?”

“No.” I flattened my hands on my stomach. “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“You mean you don’t want to get too attached. Am I right?”

Damn. He knew me too well. But how was I supposed to be brave? I’d already lost babies—ones I’d secretly given names to and imagined them growing up in our home. The longer it stayed inside me, the harder it would be to let go. Right now a baby was just an idea, but soon it would fill my belly and more of my heart. I didn’t have the courage to name a child I might have to say good-bye to. The Relic had given me a kindling of hope that I might one day carry to full term, but somewhere deep in the back of my head was a nagging voice that kept telling me I wasn’t good enough or deserving enough to be a mother, and maybe that’s why I was being punished with all these maladies.

“Let’s just wait before we start talking about names,” I said.

“Afraid I can’t come up with a good one?”

I glared at him. “Your parents almost named Jericho
Beaver
because of their naming scheme based on where you guys were conceived. I’d be scared to hear what you come up with.”

He kissed me softly on the temple. “Kitchen Table has a nice ring to it.”