Since Liam was looking in our direction, I called out, “I want to help.”
“Good. Because I need your help.” Mom tried to steer me away.
“I meant with the search.”
“You can shift again?” Grant asked.
His sister gave my leg a once-over, grimacing as though I was a sorry excuse for a shifter. The two of us had never clicked, not even when I’d dated her younger brother. Could’ve been because of her complete lack of empathy and kindness.
“Yes.” I held out my hand and forced my claws out.
“I meant, a full shift,” he added.
“Yes,” I lied.
“Nikki, let’s go,” Mom hissed.
This time, when she tugged on my elbow, I moved my feet.
“I wanted toreallyhelp,” I grumbled.
“You don’t think that keeping a child safe isreallyhelping? If our Alpha isn’t worried, he’ll be able to better focus on the hunt.”
“Storm has you. He doesn’t need me. Plus, I don’t know the first thing about babies.”
“About time you learn.”
“About time? I just turned nineteen. Kids aren’t in my near future.”
“But your brothers are going to have babies someday soon, and family helps each other out.”
I looked over at Storm, whose pudgy hands were pressed against my mother’s chest and whose short neck was cranked as far back as the kid could manage in the carrier. Babysitting was so not how I’d envisioned spending my day.
I pursed my lips. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing?”
“Ever since the accident, you’ve been coddling me. My leg’s fine.”
“Your leg’s better, but it’s not fine yet.” Mom’s pitch had gone up, startling the little guy strapped to her. She patted one of his little hands.
“What if this is as good as it gets?”
“I don’t believe that for a second. Darren said we’d have to amputate it, and it healed. Then he said you might never regain use of it, but you have. So I know it’ll get better, but straining it won’t help. If anything, it might make it worse.”
Mom rarely raised her voice, which wasn’t to say she couldn’t speak passionately about things. I’d learned young that words delivered placidly could make just as much of an impact as yelled ones.
“Besides, two of my sons will already be out there. Knowing the other two, they’ll convince Nate to let them be of assistance on the field. Can I at least keep one child safe?” It was the fine lines bracketing the outer edges of her chocolate eyes, that palpable maternal worry of hers, that ended up placating me.
I sighed a, “Fine,” then arm in arm, we climbed the snow-covered hill to the house.
After we’d stepped into the house and I’d shrugged out of my coat, Mom hoisted Storm out of the carrier. “Can you hold him a sec while I undo this contraption?”
“Um.” I stared at Storm, who gaped right back. I’d never held a baby before. Babies were breakable. I especially didn’t want to break this one.
“Nikki?”
I reached out and snagged him under his armpits, dangling him in midair.
