Page 39 of Magnum, Volume 2

But then two thoughts came into focus — Brooke was defending him based on what she saw me thinking. I’d been pissed that he put me in this position, so my freedom and/or memories might’ve been at risk if I hadn’t been able to do the oath correctly, and she’d responded to my thoughts, explaining why he’d put me into the position.

I went stiff in his arms at the same instant I realized Brooke was aware of every fucking thought I had, so I blanked my mind and pictured the damned asteroid-field thing from Star Wars. It’s a meditation trick, to blank your mind, so maybe it would work for this. I could be angry with Magnum later, but for now, I relaxed back into him but couldn’t help the next thoughts that went through my head — Magnum hadn’t wanted to hide his true nature from me, and this had been the only way to tell me. I blanked my mind again, because whatever was between Magnum and me was private. Personal. And this woman in a child’s body didn’t need to know anything about our relationship. I wasn’t going to sort through any of it while Brooke was still inside my head, watching. It was an invasion, kind of like raping my mind, so I locked it down and left it for later.

“Let’s get us back to land,” Magnum said, and he stood and walked to the captain’s chair.

“How soon until Squatch can come back?” I asked, not because it was important, but because I wondered how long he’d be trapped.

“He can come back anytime,” Kitty said, “but he’ll be beyond starving when he does, so he’ll let me throw a couple of steaks on the grill before he changes back.”

I turned to Magnum. “When do I get to see you as a turtle?”

“Now if you want, or we can do it later.”

“Will you be… dangerous? Is there a chance you’ll bite me?”

He shook his head. “I’ll know who you are, just as Squatch knows who we all are.”

He leaned in and kissed my forehead, pulled the fabric all around the steering wheel away, and he drove us back to the docks while I sat and considered the fact he could scent my emotions, and realized this was how he’d always known so much about me.

It wasn’t him knowing me; it was him reading me based on things I didn’t know.

Did this mean our relationship wasn’t as magical as I’d thought?

Chapter 18

Magnum

Your Storm is smart, Brooke telepathed. She won’t think about what this means for the two of you while she knows I’m in her head. I’m sorry that I can’t give you assurances she won’t walk away from you.

And that was a problem, because if she wasn’t around me on a daily basis, she couldn’t know about supernaturals. It was my job to know if she might change her mind about reporting on the supernatural.

You know I’ll follow the rules, I assured her, because if Storm left me, I’d have to notify Brooke or Dev immediately, even if it killed something inside me to do it.

Brooke didn’t respond, so I focused on Storm, trying to figure out what I could about how she was dealing with this new knowledge, and I scented doubt, anger, and sorrow coming off my Storm — and that last one had me alarmed.

However, I passed out hot chocolate made with actual dark chocolate and whole milk when we returned, and Kitty made sure Squatch was properly fed when he came back to human.

We all sat around the dining room table with chips, brownies, and several charcuterie boards while Storm asked questions and we answered them. All about werewolves, tiger shifters, and bird shifters — and she jumped right to realizing Skippy is some kind of bird, and we don’t have a fancy bird-drone.

She also asked about Logan being shot, but we couldn’t answer that — not our secret to tell. Brooke told her, “Logan will need to answer that question. It isn’t Magnum’s secret to tell.”

And Storm had said, “There wouldn’t be a secret if he was human.”

Brooke had merely tilted her head, and then, finally, my girl started asking questions about reptile shifters.

I don’t know why she asked about wolves and birds first, but it actually made it easier to explain my turtle, since reptiles are much the same as birds — minus the flying. We’re hatched and not born, and we see patterns. My turtle scent is much better than the birds’, though. Also, I can hear better, though my forte is in the bass sounds.

When I’d answered all her questions, she asked about bears, and Brooke answered a few questions before moving her back to turtles with a comment about us being stubborn and particularly difficult when we set our minds to something.

“So,” Storm asked me, “you have so many siblings because turtles are hatched?”

I nodded, and she said, “Okay, crazy question, but the cartoon — the turtles are martial arts protective turtles, right? And your family is in security, plus you’ve told me you learned several forms of martial arts, growing up.”

I smiled. “Love your brain, and how you put things together. The creators of the cartoon actually got into a bit of trouble for that one, but nothing super-serious because no one in their right mind thought the cartoon was saying turtle shifters are real.”

“But they put too many accurate details in,” Brooke said, “so the rest of the shifter world had to see consequences meted out. Quite severe, actually, but then over with, so they could return to their lives.”

Storm looked at Brooke. “You’ve been through my head. Is there anyone in my life who isn’t in Birmingham who knows about all of this?”