“Impressive, isn’t it? Elizabeth says—”
“Listen tome. Those flames never should have been lit in the first place. This barn is ninety percent wood. And I am one hundred percent opposed to unexpected indoor downpours. Dismantle this abomination at once.”
“It’s just a draft,” Stephen said quickly. “You haven’t seen its final form.”
“If so much as a single gear remains after nightfall—”
“All right, so you can’t see the vision. But thereisa need for a mongoose launcher, right? You said so yourself.”
“I said we frequently utilize avian talent in our missions. Which are ongoing, and the reason I’m in this barn. The animals and I have to work today, Stephen. We’ve a disaster to quell across town, a freshly forged statue to replace inside a walled garden, a stolen heirloom to recover, and a young mother who badly needs our—”
“Meow!” A small calico cat nudged open a square leather flap high overhead. Tiglet squeezed through the opening and dropped lightly to the dirt at Jacob’s feet, without banging into any of the newly installed chutes and tubes crisscrossing the barn like a mechanical spiderweb.
“Clever boy!” Jacob scooped the orange-and-black speckled cat into his damp arms, and despite some wriggling, was promptly rewarded by a wet-sandpaper lick to his cheek.
Tiglet had been the first of Jacob’s messenger kittens and was now a fully grown, multi-talented part of the Wynchester family.
“Take this, for example.” Jacob placed the cat back onto the ground and strode toward the rear of the barn, ducking all the tracks and pulleys. “Tiglet’s presence here means Tommy and Philippa need more feline firepower. That cues me to release Dionysus.”
Stephen took a step backward. “Is Dionysus a cuddly little messenger kitten?”
“Dionysus is a Highland tiger.” Jacob prodded the wildcat to follow Tiglet, who pranced ahead with a self-important sway, his calico tail waving high in the air.
The much-larger wildcat prowled right behind, claws out and teeth bared.
“Only scare the villains, please,” Jacob scolded the duo as he pushed open the door to let them out of the barn. “No mauling this time.”
Tiglet and Dionysus took off, streaking over the grass and out of sight.
Elizabeth and Kuni didn’t even pause their sword fight.
Taking advantage of the opening, a tiny, plump hedgehog waddled into the barn.
Before Jacob could reach for him, the audible clink of swords fencing on the other side of the walls ceased abruptly. He stepped out of the way just as the barn door flew open and his sister Elizabeth barreled inside, sword strapped to her hip.
“Tickletums!” she squealed. “My baby! My heart!”
She scooped up the hedgehog, pressed him to her ample bosom, and swirled around the barn’s interior in wide circles, the blade of her sword bumping into absolutely everything she passed.
“My love,” Stephen chastised his new bride gently. “Please have a care for my craftsmanship, or I shall be forced to launch the integrated self-defense sequence. You won’t like it.”
“But my little Tickletums made it all the way back from Regent’sPark,” Elizabeth cooed, still waltzing. “That’s his farthest distance yet. A personal record. Our sweet Tickletums has now graduated into a full homing hedgehog.”
Kuni poked her head into the barn, her black eyes sparkling in her pretty brown face. “Beth, if we’re done fencing, then we have to get back to our cases. My client will return in an hour, and I—” She caught sight of Jacob and made a sympathetic expression. “I’m sorry you’re always stuck in the barn with the animals.”
“I like the animals,” he said. “And I’m the only one able to train them.”
“I could build—” began Stephen.
“No,” Jacob said flatly.
“But you never even leave the property,” Kuni insisted. “Just because you’re the only one who can do a thing doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a respite once in a while.”
“I respite,” Jacob said.
Elizabeth nodded. “Once a week, at your poets meeting.”
“Just like you and Kuni only spare an hour a week for sword and dagger training.”
