where they could. “You’re saying a five-year-old boy lives in the in-between world and throws around enough magic to transport babies and full-grown witches?”
“You got a better explanation?” Adele refilled coffee cups. “And he’s not five any more. I’ve been chatting with a grown man-that much I know for sure.”
The dead grew up? Nell pushed her coffee away, trying to wrap her head around the strangeness, and leaned instead on the question that really mattered. “Why did he send us Morgan?”
“I’m not sure.” For the first time since they’d arrived, Adele’s mind clouded. “He said only that it was necessary to keep her safe.”
That wasn’t good enough. “We can’t just keep a baby because of a cryptic message.” Well, they could, but it might be every kind of wrong.
Adele eyed Nell. “You put a fetching spell out into the ether. It fetched. Evan said to thank you for the spell-it made his work much easier.”
A dead witch had hijacked her spell? This morning could not get any weirder. “It’s supposed to fetch
“Sometimes the universe doesn’t go exactly like you planned.” The humor in gold-flecked eyes was hard not to warm to. “A mother of five ought to understand that just fine.”
Yeah. She did. “If he talks to you again…”
Adele nodded, the eyes behind the glitz as solid as Nell’s own. “I’ll let you know.”
Sophie looked over at Elorie, competently juggling two nursers. The inn’s parlor had become their favorite gathering place in the mornings-big enough to contain babies and all those who wanted to rock them, and close to the kitchen. Aaron calmly fed whoever arrived and claimed it was good for business.
Probably true-Aislin and Lucas happily showered smiles on anyone who looked their direction. Adam, a month younger, hadn’t found his smiles yet-but he radiated newborn cuteness.
It was these moments of peace that kept Sophie sane when her unhappily nocturnal baby fussed all hours of the night.
Elorie glanced up in surprise as the floorboards of the inn’s parlor shook. The shadow filling the doorway moments later answered one question-and created many more.
Marcus held out the Moses basket, presumably filled with baby. “Where do I put her?”
It was a dangerous question-Sophie had stopped off to say good morning to Aunt Moira before coming to the inn. “Wherever you like-is she sleeping?”
“Yes.” His eyes held a strange light of victory. “She’s diapered, fed, burped, and had some blanket time in a warm, sunny spot. She should sleep until noon.”
Not if there was any justice in the world, but it was a pretty impressive list. “Sounds like you’ve had a productive morning.”
“I spent the morning demonstrating that any minimally competent adult with an Internet connection can take care of a baby’s basic needs.” Marcus set the basket down in a corner-with a gentleness totally at odds with his gruffness. “Perhaps now we can have a more mature discussion about who should be responsible for Morgan’s care until we sort out whatever tragic mistake landed her on my doorstep.”
It was a very nice speech. Rehearsed, even. Sophie weighed her choices. “You don’t believe she was sent here?”
“Hardly.” His glare cracked, momentarily distracted by movement in the basket. “And with the possible exception of my misguided aunt, doubt runs rampant in the rest of you as well.”
It had been-she couldn’t deny it. But as Sophie watched the crankiest man she knew sing a quiet lullaby in the direction of a restless baby, doubts began to leak away.
Sometimes magic worked in very mysterious ways.
And Sophie decided it could perhaps use her help. “Elorie and I have our hands full at the moment, and fishing season is in full swing.” The village was at its yearly busiest.
“She handles two.” Marcus glanced Elorie’s direction. “Surely adding another for a few days wouldn’t trouble you much.”
Arrogant ass. “I haven’t slept eight hours straight in a month.” Hell, she hadn’t slept
“I’m hardly the appropriate person to care for an infant.” Marcus glowered. “And if neither of you can make time in your busy, couch-sitting schedules, I’ll find one of the village women to care for her until we can straighten this mess out.”
Not if Moira had done her job and gotten to them first. Marcus was about to discover that the legendary helpfulness of Fisher’s Cove had gone on vacation.
And if the steam coming out of Elorie’s ears was any indication, he royally deserved it.
Jamie was going to owe her for this. Fixing every stupid man in the world was not in her job description. Nell donned mental armor-if she was heading into the bear’s cave, it paid to be prepared.
A growl was all the warning she had that the bear had come out to meet her. Marcus stepped out onto his porch, beer in one hand, imaginary shotgun in the other. “What, now they’ve called in reinforcements?”
Nell threw up a training circle. It seemed like a smart precaution-and it would send a message to the man acting like a snotty child.
Scratch that-her children had far better manners.
Marcus scowled and swatted the circle down. “If you came here to blow magical bubbles at me, you can just jump on your shiny steed and head back home. I have the girl, and the ever-meddling witches have made darned sure I have to keep her until I can get someone sane to drive out here and pick her up.”
Oh, shit. “Pick her up?”
“I called child services. They seem to be the appropriate authorities to take responsibility in this matter. The woman I spoke to seemed quite competent.”
They’d just finished rescuing Sierra from child services. Be damned if they were shipping someone off in trade. “She was sent for
“Well then, someone made a rather sizable mistake, don’t you think?” His eyes were cold, ocean-washed granite. “I’m simply fixing it.”
Time to lay down her hand. “I went to see Adele this morning. She’s the medium who brought the message from Evan.”
The granite went flying at his brother’s name, replaced by volcanic spew. “Evan’s dead. And the next person who brings him into this will deserve what she gets.” Marcus turned to look over the sea, repressed violence in every line of his body. Dismissed. Get out.
Sometimes, you just couldn’t leave the wounded bear alone. Nell threw up another training circle-a lot stronger this time. “You can duck your head and play ostrich, but you don’t get to take your temper out on every living thing.”
Marcus whirled. “I’ve had no sleep and the last of my patience ran screaming several hours ago. I can’t control what obscenities the rest of you choose to believe, but I’m not going to sit here and pretend my brain leaked out of my head.”
“What’s not to believe?” Nell was ready to crack Moira’s cauldron over his thick skull. “Let’s talk about facts. Fact-Adele got into Realm, and she didn’t do it with code or spell. Fact-she brought a message and something in it knocked you out cold. I can only presume it was truth.”
She paused, reining in her temper. A little. “Fact-the message spoke of a baby coming. She came. And she arrived coated in the kind of magic you can’t possibly explain away as a paperwork mix-up.”
His head snapped up. “We have no idea what kind of magic it was.”
