“She’s tough and her heartbeat is strong,” Bruno said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “She’ll probably be fine. You did great.”
Darius flushed and glared down at the floor, clearly not wanting to admit that he liked to hear the praise. “I’m not a shifter,” he blurted, as Bruno picked up chairs and swept up broken glass in the kitchen where a struggle had definitely occurred.
“Oh?” Bruno kept his voice neutral but felt triumphant.
“I know Ifeellike a shifter, but I’mnot,” Darius said defiantly.
“And yet you still managed to help take down a home invasion and save your baby brother,” Bruno pointed out.
“You already knew!” Darius accused. “Why’d you let me think you didn’t?”
“I wanted you to tell me yourself," Bruno said kindly. “Are you up for going out with me to check out the vehicles in the driveway, or do you have to be a shifter to do that?”
“I can do it,” Darius sulked. He brightened. “I’ll go out the side door and come out of the side yard behind them!”
The two vehicles in the driveway—a van and an SUV—were both empty and idling. Bruno turned them off and took the keys before giving the contents a quick toss. They returned to the house better armed, and were met by Tara, who said plaintively, “We’re hungry!”
Clarice was on the living room couch, absolutely festooned with children. Shane had fallen asleep in one arm and Zach was in her other elbow making sleepy faces and big yawns. Lucy was snuggled up against one side, Gabby the other, and Gil was tucking a slumbering Amy under a blanket at the far end of the couch.
“I’d cook,” Clarice said with a quiet laugh, “but I’m a little encumbered!”
She directed him from the couch to put together the casserole she had planned. “Heat up the filling before it goes in the oven and it shouldn’t take that long to crisp up.”
Tara was happy to boss Gil into setting the table, and Roderick gave a start and tried to sit up just as Bruno began dishing out plates of steaming food.
“It’s okay,” he told Roderick, when the man was inclined to throw a clumsy fist. “We got everything under control.”
Roderick blinked in confusion, but nodded slowly, seemingly incapable of words.
Shane was buckled into a high chair and Clarice bounced a fussy Zach in her arms. “I’m not sure that’s a good first food for you, baby! I’m sorry I don’t have what you’re hoping for in my shirt!”
This statement inevitably went straight to the deeply evolutionary procreation brain processes in Bruno’s head and he was struck to the core by the idea of Clarice nursing their own baby. He wasn’t sure if he wanted more children—Gil was an entire circus rolled into one loud boy—and he and Clarice hadn’t resolved their relationship into anything permanent enough to base a family on.
But there was something comfortable about the idea. Not quite instinct, but a gentle certainty of the rightness of it all.
Bruno got everyone settled and went to check on the knocked-out adults.
He and Clarice repeated the story as each of them woke up. Vivian checked everyone’s vitals and sniffed one of the darts curiously. “It’s not a standard tranquilizer,” she observed. “Hunter’s guys used these on us before. Nothing FDA approved, but fast acting and shouldn’t leave much more than a headache. Drink plenty of water, get some food in your stomach to absorb the aftereffects.” She assured Addison that she ought to be okay breastfeeding and Zach was very happy to snuggle on the couch and suck hungrily as the kids finished their casserole and tried not to fall asleep in it. They were equal parts exhausted and wound up, which was a potent cocktail for arguments.
Bruno, Darius, and Roderick took their assailants back to the room and re-dosed them with Vivian’s medical permission.
Wendy had taken five darts to the chest and hadtrouble keeping her eyes open to eat. Darius hovered over her until she suggested that he take a photograph because it would last longer.
Halfway through the meal, there was an unexpected tear in space, a shower of sparkles, and a roaring gryphon landed in the middle of the kitchen, wings knocking things off the counter and into the sink.
Bruno had put one of the mercenary’s guns—a real one, with bullets—on a tall cabinet and he was about to go for it before he recognized that it was Theo, teleporting with Darius or Jackson as his anchor.
“Dad!” Darius was already on his third helping of casserole. “DADDY!” Jackson echoed.
Theo melted back to human form and hurried into the dining room. “Juliette told me you called! Why didn’t you callme? I should havebeenhere.”
Darius gave a groan of disgust as Theo tried to embrace him. “I’m fine, Dad, GEEZ. Your phone would have been shifted with you, so I knew a call probably wouldn’t go through.”
Theo looked around in alarm at Wendy, who was still swaying in her seat and blinking hazily. “Wendy?”
“He saved the day,” Wendy said woozily. “I got shot five times.”
“Tranquilizer darts,” Darius hastily added. “They were trying to take us alive.”
