Nell could feel Jamie’s head ratcheting down from red alert. Her daughters were a different story.
“Here!” Mia stabbed at lines of code, her sisters hanging over her shoulders. “And whatever it was tried twice.”
“Didn’t make it through. Won’t next time, either.” Ginia’s voice had Nell glancing up in surprise.
Jamie frowned over his niece’s head. S
Nell nodded slowly. Message heard, loud and clear. She was insanely proud of her girls, especially of their instincts to love and protect and nourish the people around them. But whether or not today had been a real threat, Morgan was a traveler-the odds on her reaching her first birthday were terrifyingly low. And guilt could cripple even really healthy, happy girls.
Time to take some weight off ten-year-old shoulders.
Nell leaned in, a hand on Ginia’s arm. “Moira says you’re doing some weaving that looks a little like spellcasting. Want to show me what you’ve done?”
She read welcome in her daughter’s mind.
And relief.
Chapter 16
Jamie walked into the Witches’ Lounge, Kenna in one arm, a bag of guy food in the other. He grinned at the assembled guys and babies. The Fairy Godfathers, reunited. “Who called the meeting?”
“I did,” said a dry voice from behind him.
Daniel came over to grab the bag of food and waved at Morgan, riding kangaroo-style in Marcus’s pouch. “Traced back my hack, did you? It was a fairly sloppy one.”
“Wasn’t necessary.” Marcus’s lips quirked. “I don’t know all that many men capable of creating a baby dressing flow chart.”
Mike grinned at Jamie-that one had been their little contribution.
Aaron looked up, his daughter a tiny, curled puddle on his chest. “How’d the bath thing go?”
Marcus snorted. “She’s clean. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Yeah. Kenna’s short life had been full of a lot of overly exciting moments, but by far the worst had been the first time Jamie had tried to give her a bath. He had no freaking clue how fathers without teleporting skills managed it.
Mike sniffed at the air. “Anything good in that bag? Starving.”
“Sorry.” Aaron shifted slightly, freeing up an arm. “Steaks require more than ten minutes of warning.”
Doritos didn’t. “You’ll just have to clog your arteries along with the rest of us this time.” Jamie tossed over a bag, wincing as it almost dinged Aislin in the head. His porting reflexes were toast after the sword fight. Keeping Lizzie out of the moat had been a full-time job, and Aervyn had been too busy waving his arms at imaginary dragons to be much help.
Aaron contemplated the bag. “Whoever designed these things was clearly not a father.”
Jamie laughed as he tried to keep Kenna’s hands out of the second bag. “It doesn’t get any easier.” He remembered one very sad night on the couch watching baseball, newborn Kenna asleep in one arm, his other fondling an unopenable beer and bag of chips.
Mike reached over and amiably ripped open Aaron’s chips, helping himself to a large handful in the process. “These are banned from the house right now. Something about orange breast milk not being good for babies.”
Jamie refrained from mentioning how many Doritos Nell had eaten while pregnant. None of her babies had been born orange. However, the rules for nursing moms were mystical, obscure, and absolute. And quite often made up on the spot by an exhausted, hungry mama.
Any man with half a brain learned to dispense love, sympathy, and food, not necessarily in that order. And to eat his Doritos in secret.
“If you all have your helping of orange poison now-” Marcus put Morgan down on the floor beside Kenna and looked around the room. “I need more help.”
Jamie ignored the Dorito slander-Marcus had always been a strange witch.
Daniel reached over and tickled Morgan’s belly. “She looks happy, nothing smells, and the diaper’s not on backwards. Looks like you have it under control.”
“Not with that.” Marcus shook his head. “It’s the traveling. I need a brain trust.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “You have a pretty big one.” Realm had closed ranks around their grumpiest player. Even now, half the level-seven players were trying to work out exactly what had set off the alarms.
“I know.” Quiet gratitude leaked out of Marcus’s head, along with a heaping dose of frustration. “But all we’ve done so far is fancy Band-Aids.” He looked down at Morgan, busy watching Kenna trying to roll over. “It’s going to take more than that.”
“She didn’t travel at all this time, right?” Daniel leaned back, eyes pensive. “Realm made a difference. Or the wards did.”
Maybe both. “We’re working on that.” Jamie tapped his tablet, checking on his sister’s progress reports. They’d ruled out false alarms and game shenanigans. “Nell’s adding some more layers to what Ginia already had in place.”
“She didn’t travel.” Marcus’s words were terse, and somehow ominous. “But whatever came for her came in broad daylight.”
Oh, shit. Jamie froze, fingers snapping back to his tablet. Astral travel happened at night. Always. He messaged Nell, and then looked up, facing the fear lurking in Marcus’s eyes. “Maybe Realm made it easier. Changed the rules somehow.” Night and day in Realm were very ephemeral things, decided by a few lines of code.
“Maybe it’s time to try Kansas instead of Realm,” said Daniel quietly.
“I don’t know.” Marcus shrugged, and every father in the room felt his helpless anger. “I can’t ward her half as well in Kansas. And I don’t know if Realm has anything to do with this. Maybe it’s Morgan who’s different.” He swallowed audibly. “Or the magic that sent her here.”
Daniel nodded slowly, a master strategist weighing the odds. “Then fight from turf you know.”
“Trying.” Marcus’s face was a picture of impatient frustration. He squatted down beside his girl on the floor and reached for her hands, voice suddenly hoarse. “But I still think there’s something I’m supposed to figure out, and I have no earthly idea what it is.” His plea for help pounded into every mind in the room.
Jamie watched, empathy in overdrive, as the little girl with purple eyes wrapped her fingers around those of the man who loved her.
And then Morgan burped like a linebacker, and mirth hit the room like a ton of bricks.
Mike eyed Marcus, chuckling. “You teach her that?”
“Hardly.” The voice was crusty old bachelor to the core-but his eyes held an odd mix of embarrassment and pride.
Daniel leaned over and picked up his niece. “How about you, Kenna girl? Got any football burps in you? Or trucker farts?” He smiled, tossing her in the air. “Your cousin Nathan used to fart like a jet airplane.”
Kenna giggled and babbled, no farts in sight. Jamie sighed-it wasn’t for lack of trying. He looked over at Marcus. “They’re never too young to start farting lessons.”
“I’ll suggest it to Aunt Moira.” The delivery was deadpan, which only got Mike and Aaron laughing harder.
Jamie grinned-Moira had high tolerance for most little-boy stunts, but she’d always drawn the line at farting contests of any kind. He got down on the floor and tickled Morgan’s toes. “You want lessons, munchkin, you just come find me.”
She kicked her feet and puckered up. Jamie watched, fascinated, as she wiggled her lips, silently, intent on some not-quite-there trick. “What’s she trying to do?”
The embarrassed pride in Marcus’s mind spiked to entirely new levels. “Just something Lizzie showed her.”
