Aunt Tillie folded her arms across her chest. “This is only the beginning. Somebody has to talk with her.”
Thistle and I automatically took steps back and spoke at the same time.
“Not it.”
Aunt Tillie made a face. “Oh, you’re so funny. I can’t tell you how funny you are. Oh, wait, you’re not.”
“We have to talk about the baby as a family,” Landon insisted. “May I suggest a family dinner? And we can discuss the shades and how best to deal with them.”
It was the pragmatic way to go. Unfortunately, that’s not how the Winchesters rolled.
“I’m still not going to be the one to talk to her about giving birth to a glowing baby,” I warned. “I don’t have the energy to dry those tears.”
“Me either.” Thistle was emphatic. “This is a job for our mothers.”
“Yes. We did the heavy lifting with the shades. They can handle Clove.”
“I totally agree,” Aunt Tillie said. “It’s nice to be on the same page.”
I glared at her. I hated when we were on the same side. “Despite that, I’m sticking to what I just said. Mom and the aunts have to deal with this one.”
“Then we’ll handle everything in one shot over dinner,” Landon said.
21
Twenty-One
Thistle, Aunt Tillie and I went straight to the inn’s kitchen. Landon and Chief Terry promised they would watch Clove, keep her away from the conversation, but there was nothing natural about the way they interacted with her. Landon in particular kept staring at her stomach as if a bomb was about to go off.
“So you think Clove’s baby somehow stopped your head from being smacked against the pavement?” Mom summed up when we finished relating the story.
“Do you have another explanation?”
“Yes. Aunt Tillie did it and doesn’t want to own up to it because she thinks it will make her look soft.” Mom pinned Aunt Tillie with a pointed look. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Since when don’t I take credit for being a badass?” Aunt Tillie demanded. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would tell you if I’d done it. We don’t have time for games.”
Mom continued to stare into Aunt Tillie’s eyes, her bossiest face on display. After a few seconds, she relented. “Fine. Thistle, tell me exactly what you saw.”
“It happened fast,” Thistle replied. “Clove mentioned that something was happening on the street. I should point out that she was sitting on the couch when she said it, which means she sensed it rather than saw it.
“We both went to the window and saw Bay lifted from the ground,” she continued. “My first instinct was to run outside but it was already too late for that. Clove made this weird sound, like she was gurgling, and then she grabbed her stomach. I saw a spark, kind of a gold energy, rush out of her. The next thing I knew, Bay was on the grass in front of the sidewalk.”
“And that’s all that happened?” Mom pressed.
“You want more?” Thistle was incredulous. “It’s the baby.”
“It’s not the first time the baby has shown abilities,” I added. “Clove’s emotions have been all over the place. When she feels something now, we often do as well. She’s projecting. And that’s on top of her reaction to the runes I drew after Paisley’s body was found at the Dragonfly.”
Thistle slowly turned to me. “I forgot about that. She said the baby didn’t like the runes and then kept talking. I didn’t think to question her at the time, but now ... .”
“So, the baby doesn’t like the runes.” Mom said. “That’s a very strange thing to say, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“We still have to deal with it.” There was no way I would let my mother and aunts weasel out of this. “Clove has to be made aware that the baby is ... different.”
“She’s a Winchester,” Twila argued. “Of course she’s different. All Winchester babies are different.”
“This baby is even more different,” I insisted. “I think it’s because Sam has witch in his lineage. This baby is getting a double dose.”
Mom opened her mouth, as if to argue, and then snapped it shut.
“That does kind of make sense,” Marnie hedged. “We talked about it when they started dating, what it could mean for children. We pushed it aside because it seemed unlikely. Sam’s witch lines are weak.”
“Apparently they’re not that weak,” I said. “You have to talk to Clove. More importantly, you have to convince her to have the baby somewhere other than a hospital.”
Mom balked. “Why us?”
“Because you’re the adults.”
“Um, last time I checked, you were an adult, Bay,” Mom said. “Clove is essentially your sister. You have to deal with it.”
No way was I falling for that one. “I have enough to deal with. There are murderous shades out there and a teenaged witch who appears to be using the remnants of our magic against us. I am not going to handle Clove on top of that. You do it.”
“You.”
“You.”
“Oh, I love an adult argument,” Aunt Tillie drawled as she made her way to her recliner in the corner of the kitchen. “Nothing better than a mature discussion about the arrival of the next generation.”
The fact that Aunt Tillie was calling us immature was sobering. “Mom has to do it,” I said. “I have too much on my plate.”
“Fine.” Mom threw up her hands. “I’ll do it.”
Now I was suspicious. “You will?”
“Yes,” she said, “and you’re going to help.”
Yup. I should’ve seen that coming. “I don’t want to.”
“You’re coming anyway.” She grabbed my arm and squeezed. “Come on. We’re doing it now. We have an inn full of guests this evening. You’re going to be inundated with questions because some of them were downtown to see the show you guys put on.”
I glared at Thistle, who was edging toward the door. “Don’t you think Thistle should come too? If it’s a family thing, the whole family should be there.”
“Absolutely.” Mom froze Thistle in place with a single look. “You’re coming,
