Gathering Storm (4 page)

His dad waited in the car
while he cleaned out his locker. His mind was a blur of possible
scenarios about what no school might mean and none of them were
good. He stopped long enough to think about missing his friends and
realized that he didn't have any friends who were important enough
to miss. On the way out he passed the classroom with the ugly ass
teacher who had ejected him for the last time. Class was in
session, but the door to the hallway stood open.

Prune Face Blackmon
followed the eyes of her students to the open door. “Mr. Storm. Do
you not have someplace you need to be?”

He stared at her for a
couple of beats while he processed that question. Actually no.
Thanks to her and Mr. Rodgers he didn’t have any place where he
needed to be.

He looked to his right
toward the front exit. If he went that way he would find his dad
was waiting for him in the car. Then he looked to his left down the
long polished hallway that led to a rear door. It takes a fraction
of a second to make a choice that alters the course of a life so
profoundly and irreparably that everything from that moment forward
is a result, reward, or consequence of that one little choice. One
of hundreds of choices routinely made in a day's cycle.

Angel Storm gave Blackmon
the finger, and trotted away toward the rear exit, away from the
weary father who waited, away from everything he'd known. He was
grinning at the uproar of laughter from the poor douches who were
going to be stuck in that hellhole the rest of the hour.

"Not a bad exit," he thought to himself.
"Points shaved for lack of planning, but..."

He didn’t know where he
was going or what he was going to do. But, if he could have looked
into his future, even for a moment, he wouldn't have been
grinning.

He was fourteen.

CHAPTER 3

The day after Elora Rose
was born, the proud parents brought her home to the villa they had
each dreamed about since adolescence.

Litha was stretched out on one of the two
long leather sofas that faced each other. "I'm falling asleep.
Again."

"Go ahead, Mama." Storm
looked at the baby sleeping in his arm and brought her up to rest
on his shoulder as easily as if he'd been performing that maneuver
for years. "We've got this covered."

"You need to put that baby down sometimes,
Beautiful. You're gonna make her sore."

He looked over at Litha with a half smirk.
"I think that's an old wives tale."

"You're
not
calling me an old
wife."

"If you say so."

"Do you smell something burning?"

Storm tightened his abs to
help suppress a laugh so that the movement wouldn't wake Rosie.
"You know that threat's starting to lose some of its punch. I think
there’s more blowing smoke than burning fire."

That taunt woke Litha up
just enough to give him a smile so wicked he was instantly sorry
he'd thrown that gauntlet in her direction. After all, she was only
going to be in a weakened state for a short time. She had a long
memory and, like most hereditary witches, believed that few things
are sweeter than payback. The witchy DNA combined with demon blood
meant that his spouse had an internal magick bag of tricks, any one
of which packed a punch potent enough to put the fear of the gods
into the gods themselves. Yeah. He was going to be sorry he'd
started something.

Thinking about that made
him heave a big sigh. Just the distraction needed because it earned
him a whiff of pure heavenly new baby scent.

He glanced at Litha who
was sleeping peacefully, turned on her side facing him. He was
watching her when she jerked from the sound of a whistle coming
from the kitchen.
Crap. Guess who's
here?

Deliverance came striding
into the living room, loud, chipper, irritating as hell, which come
to think of it, could be behind the reason why demons ended up
associated with the fiery underworld of mythology.

"Ding dong. The witch gives head."

Litha was startled awake,
which couldn't feel good to a bunch of internal organs desperately
trying to resize, reshape, and put themselves back in the right
place. The baby was startled as well and was wiggling around, close
to erupting into a full-blown fuss.

"Oops. Everybody
sleeping?"

Storm shot the
self-centered, inconsiderate, asshole of a demon a look that should
have killed him where he stood. "Not anymore."

"Hi, Dad," Litha said
softly, sounding tired and drowsy.

The incubus smiled at her and waved then
dropped to his knees next to where Storm held the baby. "Can I hold
her?"

"Oh. Now you want to use
inside voices?" Storm wasn't the least fond of his father-in-law,
but it was impossible to hate a creature who looked at his child
with an adoration so complete that it was borderline worship.
"Okay. Here's the deal. I let you hold the baby for fifteen minutes
and then you go get Litha's favorite pasta primavera from
Corelli's."

"Done," the demon grinned.
He was ever so much happier to be offered an equitable trade than
he would have been to get off Scot free. Demons are like that. It's
all about the deal.

Rosie had just begun to
settle back down when Storm stood carefully, trying not to disturb
her further. He gestured for the demon to sit where he'd been and
then transferred the baby onto the shoulder of her grandfather, the
incubus.

Storm shook his
head.
Waking Woden. What a
family.

The child seemed more than
content on the new shoulder and sighed audibly. Storm held his
watch up and made sure Deliverance saw him point to the time. The
demon gave him a wide smile that said, "Holding me to my bargain.
Lovely. Maybe you're not so bad, dickwad."

Turning back to check on
Litha, Storm saw that she'd drifted off again. Using the stealth
he'd acquired as a Black Swan hunter, he headed toward the kitchen
without waking his girls. He checked his intelliphone for texts
while keeping an eye on the time. One thing he'd learned about
Deliverance was that, if the demon managed to exceed the
contractually agreed time – in that case, fifteen minutes, he would
lose respect for his son-in-law.

Storm could care less
about having the respect of an incubus except for the fact that
things seem to go smoother with it than without it. So for Litha’s
sake, he made adjustments for kookiness that sometimes stretched
way beyond the pale.

He stepped into the
kitchen archway to check on Litha when he thought he heard quiet
voices coming from the living room. She still looked sleepy and
hadn't moved, but her eyes were open and she was talking to her
father.

Storm arrived in time to
hear Deliverance say in a near whisper, "She's so perfect in every
way. Even her name. I
love
that you named her Rosie."

"I'm glad you like it. And she is. Perfect
in every way."

"She looks like you."

Litha smiled and shook her
head without raising up from the pillow. "No dad. You're not
looking through clear eyes. See those long fingers? And look at
that tiny scowl on her brow. She's intense even when she's asleep.
She has my hair and maybe my eyes, but she’s Storm all over. And
I’m thrilled about that. He’s the beauty in the family." Storm had
to smile at that. What guy didn’t want to know his wife thought he
was beautiful?

"But look at the bloom in
her cheeks and the way her nose turns up a little at the end, like
a pixie."

"All babies’ noses turn up
a little,” she chuckled. “That’s so they can nurse without being
suffocated.”

Deliverance didn’t look convinced.

Storm cleared his throat then tapped his
watch face as he came around the sofa. He reached for the baby. The
incubus pouted, but handed her over after planting a soft kiss on
her little cheek.

"Stop that," Storm said,
trying to wipe the kiss off Rosie’s cheek with the corner of a pink
baby blanket. "There's no telling where those lips have
been."

Deliverance snickered and
held out his hand for money. Storm mined his pocket and slapped a
hundred dollar bill in the demon's hand. "Tell them to put the
Alfredo sauce on the side. She's very particular about how much and
likes to put it on herself. And don’t think you’re fooling anybody
about the money. I know you’re not going to pay for
that."

Litha's dad glanced at
her, snickered again, and vanished.

"You want to hold her while I set the
table?"

Litha's eyes lit up and that was all the
answer needed. He placed the sleeping baby on the sofa next to her
mother.

Rosie's eyes might have
opened a slit, but it was impossible to tell. She rubbed a tiny
fist against her nose and went back to sleep.

Storm finished getting the
kitchen ready for dinner delivered by demon and had just started
back into the living room to check on his girls, when Deliverance
appeared. Storm wondered for the hundredth time why Litha was the
only one who didn't jump when the demon popped in.

"Hi ho." Deliverance
announced raising two bulging brown paper sacks, one clutched in
each hand, and looking as pleased with himself as if he’d retrieved
the Golden Fleece.

Litha's mouth suggested a wisp of a smile.
"I keep telling you not to call me a ho."

The demon giggled and
handed the bags to Storm one at a time. "Done and done." He knelt
down next to the sofa where Litha was stretched out and ran the
back of his index finger over Rosie's cheek. "Have I mentioned that
you’re the two most beautiful females in the universe?"

Litha's eyes sparkled.
"You haven't, but you’re pretty good at communicating your
emotions. I guessed you felt that way."

Deliverance stood and gave
his daughter an adoring look, nodded to Storm and
disappeared.

Litha gathered up the baby before trying to
swing her legs to the floor. Storm made two long-legged
strides.

"Here. Let me do that." He scooped Rosie
into the crook of his arm and used the other hand to help Litha
stand. "I can bring the food in here if you'd rather."

"Don't be silly. I'm not
an invalid. In fact, since our daughter is the most considerate
baby in the history of babies, I can only imagine that I'm doing a
hundred times better than most moms with one-day-olds." She cut
Storm a suggestive leer. "There could be some benefits to you as
well."

"Like..."

"Sex sooner. Less wear and tear on the
equipment." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Okay, stop. I get it."

"Am I making you
uncomfortable? Please tell me you're not going to be one of those
men who loses interest once the hot mama becomes a
mama."

Storm grinned. "That had
better not be wishful thinking on your part because, no." He used
his free arm to gingerly pull her in close to his side then looked
down at her with a sexy little crooked grin full of the promise of
lots of living yet to come. "I'm never gonna give up any part of
you."

"Well said, knight. Is that pasta primavera
I smell?"

"Indeed. A feast worthy of my lady."

For almost six weeks after
Rosie’s birth, everything proceeded normally. Storm's mother
stopped over every few days to bring flowers or food or flowers and
food. And hold the baby, of course. She was over the moon and kept
calling grandparenthood a transcendent experience.

Sol left for vacation. As
a favor to his daughter, Deliverance agreed to help simplify things
by showing up at the vineyard every day to give Storm a "ride" to
work at Jefferson Unit and stopping in to pick him up and return
him six hours later. Glen was such a natural for the job that he
didn't require much supervision, or even guidance.

Six weeks after they
brought her home from the hospital, Rosie slept through the night
without waking. Storm and Litha had gone to sleep facing each
other, talking quietly about the future, reveling in the simple
pleasure of their little family’s cocoon. Storm said he was looking
forward to teaching Rosie how to swim and ride a bike.

When they woke they were
still facing each other. Hearing the baby's cry, they opened their
eyes and watched each other's features transform into surprise when
they realized it was light already.

"She slept all night."
Storm said it like he had not really believed that would ever
happen. Then his mouth curved up to show how much he appreciated
that it had.

Litha returned his smile
as she pulled on her robe and padded down the hall. Storm stretched
in their bed enjoying the feeling of sleeping naked between clean
sheets. The thought crossed his mind that he was going to have to
give up that luxury, sooner or later, with a daughter in the
house.

He was completely relaxed and completely
content, when he heard Litha call his name in a way that couldn't
be good.

“Storm!”

He scrambled up, not
bothering with clothes, and hurried to the nursery next door. Litha
was standing just inside the door with wide eyes and her hand over
her mouth.

Rosie was sitting up
staring at them like she was waiting to see what they would do
next. In her hand she held the diaper that had come off during the
night. She waved it a few times to show them she had learned a new
trick of coordination. There was no question that the child in the
crib was Rosie, but it was a lot to process all at once.