"Unite what now?" I asked, both hands pressed to my swollen belly as the triplets stirred restlessly.
"Mom, massive magical disturbances across the eastern seaboard," Nina interrupted. “Something's happening everywhere at once."
“The collapse is accelerating,”Tarja purred in my mind from her perch in my room. “What Lyra triggered is spreading like a plague.”That was just peachy keen. The Best news of the day, really.
CHAPTER 12
Iwas sitting at the kitchen island with Nana, frantically wolfing down one of Mythia's incredible pastries between coordinating refugee arrivals and checking on the wounded. Clio was using good, old-fashioned medical practices on them. She refused to wear herself out using her magical healing ability. Guilt was a heavy weight in my gut because she was reserving her energy in case my babies and me needed her.
Mythia had stopped me a few minutes ago and insisted I eat something again. I was so glad she did. The pastry was cinnamon goodness. Unfortunately, I barely had time to appreciate it while refugees streamed through our front door. The house buzzed with desperate activity, making me anxious.
"Eat faster," Nana ordered, shoving another pastry toward me. "You're running on fumes, and I’m not dealing with all those people.
“Not because my babies need fuel?" I scowled at her.
Nana snorted and took a bite. “As if those babies are neglected. Eat.”
"I'm trying," I mumbled through a mouthful of what might have been the best thing I'd ever tasted. "But there's so much?—"
An ear-splitting alarm cut through my words. It was a mechanical shriek that made every glass in the kitchen rattle. The sound was impossible to ignore.
"What in the Sam Hill is that racket?" Nana demanded, nearly dropping her pastry as she pressed her hands to her ears.
I looked around frantically, trying to locate the source while refugees in the living room began calling out in alarm. "I have no idea! Is something on fire? Are we under attack?"
"That is the anchor monitoring system," Tarja's voice slid into everyone's minds with urgent clarity. "Jean-Marc had an idea to set up a magical early warning network connected to the anchors. He and I just got it working. It's detecting multiple breaches across several supernatural communities."
"Oh, shit," I breathed, abandoning my half-eaten pastry as I pushed back from the island.
"Jean-Marc's big brain is paying dividends again. I have the smartest great-grandson," Nana smiled as she stood as well.
"The anchors are detecting coordinated attacks on supernatural communities across six states." Nina's face was glued to the tablet screen as data flooded in. Where was she getting the data from? Had they discovered a way to enchant some tech while I was eating a pastry? Being able to enchant technology at all is a recent development, and there isn’t much of it yet.
"How many locations are we talking about?" Aidon demanded as he joined us from outside.
"Seventeen and counting," Jean-Marc replied grimly as his fingers flew across his laptop keyboard. "Salem's coven district is under siege. The Portland shifter sanctuary just went dark. And something just hit the Boston Fae enclave."
The refugees in our foyer began murmuring with rising panic. I caught fragments of hushed conversations about family members still out there and safe houses that might not be safeanymore. And I watched as the alpha was pacing a hole in my marble floor.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
"My sister's pack was heading to Portland," the alpha said, shaking his head. "I haven't heard from them in hours."
"We need to start searching for safe locations," I announced. My mouth decided to make executive decisions without consulting my brain. "Anyone who needs sanctuary is going to get it. If they are close enough, they can come here."
"That’s a good idea. We have the strongest defenses in the region, thanks to Thalia's wards and the babies' magic,” Mom replied.
Aidon's arm went around my waist. "We'll need to expand the protective perimeter and establish sleeping arrangements at my house." He’d purchased the house next door after we first met so he could be close to me. He never stayed there, so it sat largely unused. I believe some of the shifters began using it recently.
"There are forty in need in town," Cordelia announced. "And more are coming. The desperate, the wounded, the ones who've lost everything to Lyra's expanding reach."
"Mythia," I called out to wherever the pixie had disappeared to. "We're going to need a lot more food."
Her tiny voice drifted from the kitchen. "Way ahead of you! Daethie's sending supplies. Chlora and Thicket are rallying the others."
What followed made a disaster relief coordinator weep with envy. Supernatural refugees streamed through our gates. My heart went out to the desperate families, wounded pack members, and displaced magical beings. They looked like they'd been through hell and barely made it out.
"Where do you want the Portland shifters?" Murtagh asked, supporting a blood-covered teenager who couldn't have been older than sixteen.
