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.”
Morgan tried again, and managed some odd spluttery sounds.
And then Marcus, studiously ignoring everyone in the room, leaned over and blew a raspberry into her toes.
Morgan laughed in belly-shaking delight-and blew one right back at him.
It was ninety shades of adorable-and if embarrassment could kill, Marcus was right on the brink.
Jamie looked over at Daniel. Someone needed to rescue the poor guy.
Mike intercepted the look and dove into the Doritos. Loudly. “So, what’s next?”
Daniel shrugged. “We think. Backtrack. Put our brains to work.”
Marcus nodded. “That would be appreciated.”
Daniel grinned and tossed Kenna in the air again. “But in the meantime, I think we need to build a better baby carrier.”
Jamie stopped, his hand halfway into the Doritos. “You think we can ward a sling?” It wasn’t a bad idea.
“No.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “I think we can build a smarter sling.” He grabbed Marcus’s pouch. “This thing was built with a woman in mind. Those of us who don’t have built-in milk machines have different needs.”
Marcus’s mind fled into a haze of embarrassment. Jamie tried not to laugh-this meeting had been hard enough on a certain grumpy guy’s ego already.
Daniel held up the pouch again. “Where’s the bottle holder? The permanently attached set of car keys?” He winked at Marcus. “Some place to hang a sword?”
Aaron grinned. “A padded chest.”
Marcus growled.
Jamie visualized a baby sling with breast implants and pushed the image out to the room. Sometimes, you just had to let your inner thirteen-year-old boy out to play.
Daniel snickered. “You’ve been hanging out with Nathan too much again.”
Permanent immaturity was hardly his oldest nephew’s fault. “You don’t think they’d be useful?” Jamie seriously coveted Nat’s chest on a regular basis, and for entirely different reasons than he used to-Kenna slept way better with a little padding under her head.
“I know where we can get some.” Aaron reached for the Doritos, eyes brimming with barely restrained humor. “I hear there’s a new shop in Halifax.”
Marcus slammed his soda down on the table with far more force than necessary. “And then perhaps we can get back to the topic of making sure my little girl stays safe?”
“We’re already there.” Daniel looked over, eyes calm, a world of sympathy in his mind. “Sometimes the easiest way to solve a problem isn’t a straight line.”
“You think adding a sword sheath and breasts to Morgan’s sling is going to fight off the mists?” The grumpy factor hadn’t dialed down a whole lot.
“No.” Daniel leaned back. Jamie could hear the gears of his mighty brain searching for words. “When you code, you start at one end and work to the other.” He waved his hand in the general direction of Realm’s playing fields. “Most programmers do. Follow a line of logic.”