“No.” Sophie smiled quietly. “He’s on your front porch. Helping Sean turn T-shirts purple.”
Moira felt the lump hit her throat, and looked around for a place to sit. She needed to shed a few tears before this party got underway.
Sophie tucked in beside her, a soothing arm around her shoulders. “He’s finally becoming the man you’ve always believed him to be.”
“He is.” Moira let the tears trickle down her cheeks. She didn’t speak of what might come. Of what was coming-she felt it in her bones. “I hope it’s enough.”
Sophie looked out at the garden for a long, long time. And then touched Moira’s hand in quiet comfort. “It’s the flowers that bloom last that hold best against the fall frosts.”
Aye. And this flower was finally planting himself in good, strong soil. But in the end, the frosts almost always won.
Jamie looked over at Daniel. “At what point do you think we’re supposed to step in and carry him home?”
Daniel grinned. “If I’d known he’d be this happy a drunk, I’d have gotten him sloshed fifteen years ago.”
“There’s not a drop of alcohol in him.” Moira squeezed in between them, two glasses of mint lemonade in her hands.
Jamie looked over at Marcus, leading a rousing and entirely off-key rendition of Purple People Eaters. They’d finally found someone who sang badly with more enthusiasm than Aervyn. And none of the several dozen people who’d crashed a quiet day in Fisher’s Cove seemed to mind.
Nor did the villagers. Jamie was pretty sure an impromptu lobster bake was in the works. Which was good-that way there would be someone awake to play with Kenna at 2 a.m. Maybe he’d actually get to sleep with his wife for a change. He spotted her happy head, dancing with the triplets while a growing crowd belted out the Purple People Eater chorus.
No one loved a spontaneous party more than Nat.
Moira slid a glass into his hand. “The babies are all still napping. I checked.”
So had Jamie. All five of them, lined up in baskets on Moira’s porch, happily sleeping through enough noise to wake the dead. “I dropped the TV remote yesterday and it woke Kenna up.”
Daniel snorted. “Nathan slept through all four home games of the world series. But if a chair creaked while he slept? Nell threatened to send me to remedial ninja training.”
If there was such a thing, he was signing up. Jamie squeezed Moira’s shoulders and collected Daniel’s empty glass. Time to go see if Aaron needed help feeding this crew.
He made it two steps. And then sun-bright power flashed from Moira’s porch.
The babies.
Jamie got there first-but only because he ported. Marcus thundered onto the porch an instant later, one blazing ball of purple fury.
One look at Morgan, and they both knew. She had the still, terrifying translucence of a body that had just parted with its soul.
And then Jamie looked at his own daughter, and his fear went nuclear. He dropped to his knees at her side, yanking for power and screaming. KENNA!
Gone. She wasn’t there. His sweet girl was gone.
He looked up into his wife’s eyes, their worst nightmare alive and hunting. And clawed, one fingernail at a time, back onto the ledge of sanity. Marcus. Nell. Sophie. Devin. We need a circle. NOW.
He’d named the four points. He trusted they’d collect the witches they needed.
Aervyn charged through the crowd, Lauren on his heels. I can cast, Uncle Jamie. I can do it.
It would shame Jamie for eternity that for just a split second, he considered it. And then he bent down and cradled the boy he loved like his own son. “Not today, superboy. I’ll cast. I need you to monitor, okay? Help Lauren-it’s going to be a really big job.”
He zeroed in on Lauren with the tightest mind channel he could muster. If I don’t come back, you break the connection. Don’t let him come after me.
Lauren turned sheet white. And nodded.
Spinning around, Jamie looked for his circle. And found them already pulling power. Nell on fire point, eyes blazing. She would give everything she had for his little girl.
Sophie leading earth’s trio, her husband at her shoulder. She’d already linked with Nell. They’d buy him every second of warmth possible.
Devin, water witch and warrior, holding monumental power in his hands. Jamie blinked at the sheer volume-and then saw Sierra and Lizzie behind him.
Praying, Jamie turned to the last element. It was air that would power the journey he had to take-and Marcus was the strongest air witch of their generation.
If he could function.
Jamie met the eyes of the man who would hold his life in his hands-and looked deep. Beyond the horror, beyond the desperate, screaming fear.
And found what he needed. Solid rock. Reaching out, he touched Nat’s mind with wordless love-and then stretched his arms to the sky.
Jamie felt power explode in his hands. Damn. They had some seriously hyped-up witches. Astral plane, people, not the moon.
The power dimmed. Some.
Fine. Soon enough, he’d need it all.
Carefully, ignoring the queasy feeling in his belly, Jamie leaned into the column of power at his back. His own magic spasmed in his veins, rejecting the invasion. Jamie leaned harder, ruthless, and felt his consciousness splitting off, tethered only by the circle’s magic. One quiver and he’d be the astral plane’s next permanent resident.
Him and two very unhappy, hungry girls.
A wisp of humor floated through the torrent of magic. Someone with the bravery to laugh. Jamie grabbed it with both magical hands-laughter was life!-and rode it up into the sky. Seeking. Reaching.
Gray clouded all his senses. Jamie trusted thirty years of training and ignored it.
Kenna!
For now, he had to trust the two would be together. If they weren’t, he’d cross that terrifying bridge when it came. His magic would seek a lot more easily for the child of his blood.
Slowly, not wanting to shake the circle, he separated the power streams at his back. Leaning hard on Nell and her trio, he sent out a web of fire power, like seeking like. Kenna’s strongest magic was fire-and the deeper they got into the astral world, the less useful it would be.
Next he reached to Devin. Blood of Kenna’s blood-and there was no water anywhere he couldn’t bond with. Shedding the innate distrust of a fire witch for anything liquid, Jamie slid into the mists, using his brother’s strength to feed flowing currents of power.
KENNA!
He was getting cold. Relentlessly, he tugged on the earth trio’s flow and felt the healing gift packaged with it. His circle was getting creative-and his feet were no longer going numb.
The webs of water and air had stretched as far as magic could take them. Time to mindseek. Jamie shaped a channel and discovered that his mind talents were far less clunky than usual. Marcus. Hot damn.
The gray was thicker now, a choking fog that seemed to swallow magic whole.
Silently, Jamie pushed with his mind-and thanks to his wife, with his heart. Kenna, lovey-show me where you are. It’s time to go home, baby girl. He pictured her in his mind-whole, safe, and holding tight to a tiny girl with purple eyes that matched her daddy’s shirt. And then laughed as the obvious hit. This was a world of cold, wet dark-his little fire witch would be mad as hell.