A sound—something like a cough, gag, and sputter all rolled into one—came from Jen. Jacque couldn’t remember the last time Jen was actually speechless.
“So, Costin and I did the smart thing. Yep, sounds about right. Not sure about the blue thing though,” Fane said.
“Slow your roll, there, Alpha Einstein,” said Peri. “You two idiots didn’t know the difference between baby soap and a mysterious blue-staining, gypsy-healer concoction. Hence, blue Thia. It was traumatic for everyone involved, except the kid. She didn’t give a crap she was blue. The girl just wanted to gnaw Jen’s nipple off. I didn’t want to listen to Jen whine about her boob biter being turned blue for the rest of forever, so I took the memories away. Boom. End of Story. You said you didn’t want any secrets, Alpha Boy. So, there ya go.”
“You took our memories?” Jacque asked. “Blue, Fane?” Jen said at the same time, while Sally added, “Stealing Thia does sound like something we would do.”
Lucian sat down next to his mate and shook his head. “You just had to stir the pot.”
“She called me a pussy, and he said they tolerate my vagina.” Peri huffed. “And in the spirit of Christmas or whatever, I’m trying not to turn people into inanimate objects.”
Jacque glanced down at Thia in her lap. The girl looked around the room as if she could sense the tension. When Jacque looked at Jen, she could tell her friend was trying to figure out who she should be mad at and just how mad she should be.
Jen turned to Peri. “You sort of glossed over quite a few details there, Peri Fairy. Why do I get the feeling there is much more to the story than Thia ending up blue? I don’t think you would’ve stolen our memories over that.”
The fae shrugged. “I never signed a contract requiring full disclosure. I’m the ambassador of the high fae council, afforded the autonomy to use my discretion when I feel it necessary. Maybe you should focus on the fact that Fane and Costin could have permanently turned your daughter into a blueberry. Focus, Jen.”
“Good point.” Jen turned to Jacque. “My kid teaching your kid to use profanity is not nearly as bad as your man dying Thia blue. Obviously, this is karma, and she’s biting you in the ass. This is your husband’s punishment for almost turning my kid into a real-life Smurf.” Jen picked up the lights she’d dropped earlier. She continued wrapping them around the branches, muttering under her breath about blueberries and revenge.
“She’s taking this way better than I expected,” Peri said.
“You sound disappointed.” Lucian gave a low chuckle.
“Very.” Peri sighed.
“Couldn’t you just dye our kid green and call it good?” Jacque said toward the direction of the tree. There was no reply, only a hissed curse and a whispered, “I’ll show them blueberry.”
“Jacquelyn,” Fane said. “Don’t go giving her ideas. Knowing Jen, it would wind up being permanent, and we’d have to dress him up as Kermit the frog every Halloween.”
“That’s your only worry about our kid being dyed permanently green?” Jacque asked, her lips pursed. “We need to discuss your priorities, babe.”
“Who’s dyeing whose kid green? And why do I have a memory of Fane and I dying Thia blue?” Costin walked in carrying a box of ornaments and sporting a confused look.
“How many freaking ornaments are we putting on this tree, and why the hell did you”—Decebel pointed at Fane and then Costin—“dye Thia blue?”
“Hell!” The formerly blue child in question yelled and clapped in Jacque’s lap. Jacque frowned. Maybe the dye had addled the girl’s brain. She decided immediately she would not point that out.
“Finally.” Peri rubbed her hands together. “Now, it’s going to get good.”
Jacque glanced up at Peri. “You realize if Jen’s taking the news this well, it just means she’s plotting something big, right? Now we’re going to be constantly looking over our shoulders.”
“I never seem to think things through when I’m irritated. Talk about me being a tolerant vagina and all my self-control flies out the window.”
“Nobody is dying anyone’s kid green,” Sally said. Titus walked over and reached out a hand for Sally to pass him an ornament.
“At least it would be festive,” Titus offered, his eyes gleaming with joy while he practically skipped to the tree. “Although I bet Thia looked pretty blue. Like a magical, little blue fairy.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Talbot,” Jen said. She stood back to look at the tree.
“Aunt Jen, my name is Titus. Although if you couldn’t remember Thia was blue, I guess I shouldn’t expect you to remember my name.”
“That’s it, you’re back on my list, Trip.”
Jacque sighed while Thia played with her hair and sang jingle bells, only she said “Jingle hells, jingle hells, jingle all the way.”
“I think this chick needs therapy,” Jacque said, pointing at the mini hellion in her lap.
“Of course she needs therapy.” Jen rolled her eyes. “She’s no doubt got PTBSD.”
“Do you mean PTSD?” Sally asked.
“Nooooo, I mean PTBSD. Post-Traumatic Blue Stress Disorder.”
“And we’re back.” Peri grinned.
“You suck, Peri. You know that, don’t you?” Fane sat down in a free chair with Slate dozing in his arms.
The fae just grinned and tilted her head back and forth.
“Or,” Sally said, nodding her head with her eyes wide. “Or Thia just totally understands rhyming because she is so flipping smart.”
“Uh-huh, right. It isn’t because she has an unhealthy fascination with the word hell,” Jacque said dryly.
“It doesn’t help that you keep saying it,” Jen pointed out.
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you say it every time a strand of lights has gone out or an ornament box gets dropped?” Sally asked with a laugh.
“Decebel has dropped ten boxes of ornaments.” Jen growled. “He’s doing it on purpose. What the hell, B?”
“See.” Sally pointed at Jen. “There it is again.”
“There’s fifty ornaments in each box, Jennifer,” Decebel snapped back. “I seriously doubt we need several thousand colored balls on
