"Thief," I said in mock outrage.
"You had a good idea. I can copy it if I want." Her laughter cut off abruptly. "Wait. Why is it so quiet?"
I thought Mika was watching the kids when I stepped up to the counter to check in for my appointment with Keith. Vector, the blue-haired piercer who moonlighted as our server when they didn't have a client, flashed me a smile and pointed to the mystery ball machine. "Looks like we've got a winner."
At the sound of Vector's voice, Jamie poked his head out of his cubicle and waved to Becca. My fearless bestie shrugged and pointed. "I'm gonna go get my tattoo now."
"A thief and a traitor." We both laughed, and then she darted to safety in Jamie's cubicle.
"I didn't touch it, I swear!" I returned my attention to my oldest child, now backed up against the opposite wall facing the machine.
"Mystery balls don't come out on their own." Mika reached inside and pulled the plastic capsule from the gaping slot.
"It's only good for a month," Vector said. "He won't be old enough to get the tattoo by then."
"He didn't have a coin," Mika said, shaking his head. "It was the weirdest thing. He turned the crank, the machine flashed white, and this ball fell out." Mika held it up.
Keith rushed out of his cubicle. "Not again," he said. "Is it number twenty-three?"
We stared at the unopened ball in Mika's hand. He handed it to Keith with care, as though it were a tarantula with its fangs out.
Keith popped the plastic dome off its base and removed the slip of paper inside. "Twenty-three." He sighed. "Sorry, kid. You'll have to wait until you're at least eighteen."
Jett frowned. "I don't want a tattoo!"
"It's not like it would take," Mika said.
"I've been working on some new inks for shifter skin." Keith winked. "Trust me, you'll want to come back when you're eighteen."
Jett crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. When he was calm, he looked like Mika, but flustered, he was all mine with the wrinkles between his brows. "Why?"
"You'll want to meet him." Keith raised his arm to point at number twenty-three on the wall. I blinked. He wasn't areal animal, this gorgeous flash drawing on the wall. He was a phoenix.
I glanced at Mika. "They exist?"
"They exist," he, Keith, and Vector said at the same time.
"I don't care," Jett said. "I don't want to meet no firebird."
"The machine flashed, kid." Keith glanced at Mika, who had seen it, and he nodded. "That means he's your fated mate."
"I don't want a mate!" Jett stomped his foot.
Five-year-old Sienna hugged him around the waist. "It's a long time, right?" our little peacekeeper said. "Maybe you'll change your mind."
"Maybe." His frown said he didn't believe it, but he would say anything to make his littlest sister happy.
"In the meantime, your daddy's here for another tattoo." Keith motioned for me to follow him to his cubicle. "You ready?"
I nodded. "Let's do this."
So much for an uneventful wedding anniversary. Once again, I had a new homework assignment, this one about phoenixes.
Mika
Once the kids were tucked into bed after coaxing us into telling them three separate stories, Gabe and I sat against our headboard, admiring Keith's work. Gabe flexed his biceps and flinched. "I wish I could shift to make the pain go away."
I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. "Did that make it better?"
