“What scares the old fools most about David, is that they have no idea of his limits.”
Allie knew. Here and now, she knew with painful clarity exactly what his limits were.
But all she could see was the blue of Graham’s eyes and all she could feel was the warmth of his mouth on hers and all she could hear was an auntie shrieking, “Look out!”
They hit the ground together, rolled, and came up onto their knees like they’d rehearsed the move. All around them, she could hear the soft thuds and mild profanity of the aunties landing.
“Don’t even try it!” About ninety degrees around the hill, Jonathon Samuel Gale came out of the trees holding a fistful of Jack’s hair and a gleaming knife at the boy’s throat. “Everyone just backs off, or he dies.”
“Well, that’s not much of a thre…” Auntie Jane began.
Allie absently reached out and shut her up.
“I could make the shot,” Graham muttered.
“Would this help?” Joe asked, fading in beside them. He held out the marked bullet.
“Clever, love,” Auntie Gwen murmured and the tips of Joe’s ears flushed scarlet.
Graham rolled the bullet between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know where…”
“This went?”
Allie took the rifle from Charlie and handed it to him. Her city. Her decision. “Do it,” she said.
Graham’s blood to help the bullet fly true.
Jonathon Samuel Gale’s blood to kill a sorcerer.
The shot wasn’t as loud as Allie’d thought it would be.
They saw the sorcerer fall. Then Jack stepped back, wiping the blood from his face and roared.
“You were right.” Allie laced her fingers through Graham’s. “It was his father blocking the dragon shape.”
“He’s very… hungry,” Charlie observed as the gold dragon ripped another bite from his lunch.
Allie shrugged, moved closer to Graham, and smoothed out the disturbance in the center of the hill before moving her attention out and around the family.
Auntie Bea had a broken leg, easy enough to heal.
Auntie Ellen and Auntie Christie had been burned. Not as easy to heal but doable.
Auntie Meredith was waving a length of… tail. Not her problem.
Tucked up in the completely inadequate shelter of a rock outcropping, Michael had his hands wrapped around Brian’s face, their mouths locked together, their bodies so close it left no room for questions between them.
David was gone.
“What took you so long?”
Brian blushed, throwing the scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks into sharp relief. “I was… I mean, because I’d… I don’t know why I did it, Allie, you have to believe me. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t even want to, but…”
“You did.”
“Yeah. I did. I hung onto the phone and I kept hoping Michael would call and we could talk. I couldn’t go running after him. I didn’t know what to say.”
“I’m sorry?”
“How could that be enough?”
Allie glanced over at Michael, but he seemed willing to let Brian do the talking. The bruised look had left his eyes, and he watched Brian as though he was the most amazing, impossible thing he’d ever seen. She wondered what had been said. Or, if in the heat of the moment, words had been unnecessary. Didn’t matter. Like she’d told the aunties, it was none of her business. It was between Brian and Michael. “If you hadn’t been there, if Michael hadn’t been in danger, I would never have…” She waved a hand because she wasn’t entirely certain language was up to what she’d done. What she and Graham had done. “But the question still remains, why were you there?”
Fingers laced through Michael’s, Brian shrugged. “I got a call from one of your aunties. She said Michael needed me. That I had to meet him at the summit of Nose Hill Park.” He chewed a little on his lower lip, as though trying to decide how much to add. “She didn’t mention anything about dragons,” he said at last.
“Yeah, well, they tend to edit.” Allie rubbed her hand along Graham’s thigh until he caught her fingers and gave them a warning squeeze. Even six hours later, the aftereffects were still wearing off, and it didn’t take much for need to take over. From the way both Michael and Brian were shifting, they seem to have gotten caught up in it, too. Or maybe that was just a normal result of their reunion. She didn’t want to speculate. Much. “You guys were set up.”
“On the hill?”
“On the hill,” Allie agreed, “because if Michael hadn’t been in danger, I might not have pushed that little bit further. But before that. In Vancouver. When Brian…”
Michael’s free hand rose and cut her off. “You’re saying the aunties arranged that?” His voice had dropped about half an octave into what Charlie had once labeled the danger zone.
“One of them, yeah.”
“Allie…”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“He looks like you, you know.”
Allie lifted herself up on one elbow and stared down at Graham. The darkness in the room was no longer able to put a barrier between them. Walls were barely a barrier. “Who?”
“Brian. Blond hair, gray eyes, little sprinkle of freckles.”
“Penis.”
Graham grinned. “I’m not saying there aren’t differences.”
“He’s a what?”
“A seventh son of a seventh son,” Auntie Jane told her, watching her with the same wariness all the aunties had exhibited for the last twenty-four hours. Allie figured it’d get old eventually, but for now she was definitely enjoying it. “You didn’t wonder about the strength of the attraction?”
Gale girls were attracted to power.
She squirmed around in Graham’s arms until she could look up at him. “Is this true?”
Graham looked a little confused. “Well, yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I spent the last thirteen years not thinking about my family, Allie. But yeah, I had six older brothers…” He shoved a hand into his pocket and Allie knew he was rolling the bullet. Jack had returned it, after he’d finished eating. “… and so did my father. But…”
“But nothing,” Auntie Christie snorted. “The mere fact you’re a seventh son of a seventh son is the only reason that stunt worked.”
Auntie Muriel’s knitting needles clicked an agreement. “Who ever heard of a non-Gale anchoring a ritual?”
Charlie had to have known, Allie realized. Charlie’d pushed them together on the hill. When Charlie got back from wherever Charlie had wandered off to, Charlie was going to have some explaining to do!
“Still…” Auntie Meredith took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “Just think what a seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh son who is a Gale might be capable of.”
Gale girls had mostly daughters. Allie did the math. “No.”
“Does the mother matter?” Auntie Grace wondered. “Charlotte could always help.”
“I think it’s time you all went home,” Allie said more-or-less pleasantly.
Allie set the pile of folded clothes down on a rock, just inside the tree line and backed away as the stag pushed through the underbrush. He was enormous. Beautiful. Heartbreaking.
The air shimmered and David pulled on the jeans but left the rest. They looked wrong on him but Allie was grateful for the faked semblance of normalcy. He had a welt across one shoulder. Even in skin, his eyes were black rim to rim. His antlers had barely diminished with the change.
His skin was damp and hot where Allie touched it, his heartbeat slow and strong under the press of her fingers.
He closed his hand around hers, new callus already forming. “Feels strange,” he said, carefully forming each word. “But more control in time.”
“I know.” The aunties had explained that when Granddad was young, he’d spent as much or more time at the farm as in the wood.
“Let him get used to it, Alysha. He’ll come back. It’s not like he ever had a steady job and he can still act as a consultant with the local police. It’ll work out. It always does.”