The Cougar's Wish (Desert Guards) (16 page)

“Duly noted.”

She started again toward the house, muttering aspersions about him as she went, and he followed, because what the hell else was he going to do but follow? When he went back home, he probably wouldn’t know what to do with his free time anymore. Without her to chase around, he might actually have to pick up some hobbies again.

“Maybe NASCAR,” he said low.

“I’m definitely going to plead otherwise.” Belle shuddered.

He caught up to her in time to pull Glenda’s back door open. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“Doesn’t matter. You said NASCAR, and I had a reflexive response.”

“Shit. Hannah does the same thing.”

“What do I do?” Hannah stood in the rear of the kitchen, wide-eyed, holding a fried chicken drumstick.

Steven took it from her and took a big bite before handing it back. “Your body revolts at the mention of stock car racing.”

She rolled her eyes and thrust the half-eaten chicken back at him. “Might as well finish it. And I think you need better hobbies.”

Sean came from the utility room carrying two folding chairs. “Who needs better hobbies?”

“Steven does. He said something about NASCAR.”

“Ah. Well, it’s no worse than speed skating or track and field. There are a bunch of sports that are mostly folks going around in circles.” He canted his head toward the full kitchen. The table was stuffed with plates and every seat full. “Grab a dish. Hannah and I got relegated to the kids’ table in the living room, so you two should sit wherever you can. Grab some chairs, too. There are more in the utility room.”

“I’ll get yours,” Steven said before Belle could make a move in that direction.

“I’ll get your plate, then.”

“Nope. I’ll get it.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“With food? Nope.”
Probably shouldn’t trust the siren with much of anything.

“Oh, God. What happened?” Glenda asked. She stood in the doorway of the utility room and watched Steven put two folding chairs under his arms.

“Nothin’. She tried to feed me salad. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Glenda let her eyes cross. “I’ll make your plate.”

“It’s all right. I’ll get it.”

“Nope. It’s the least I can go. Go sit down somewhere.”

“At the kids’ table?”

“For Pete’s sake, there’s only one child at it, and that’s Jamie. The other two kids are in the kitchen with me.”

Jamie was Glenda’s foster daughter. She and her little brother had been living with Glenda for a couple of months. Before her husband had died, Glenda had taken in Cougar fosters all the time, but had gotten out of the program during the aftermath. The upheaval had been too much.

“I think it’d be more accurate to say most of us
old
folks are in the kitchen.”

Steven stepped out of the utility room and scanned the faces at the table. Many he didn’t recognize, but he knew Lola and Tito. And he knew Ellery’s great-great-grand-goddess Agatha. Mason was there with Nick, but not Ellery. And there were three huge giants taking up a lot of space along the sides.

Glenda chuckled, obviously guessing the reason for his confusion. “I’ll introduce you and then you can go sit.” She waved him out to the table and motioned for Belle to come, too.

“All right. Let’s see if I can remember all the names, because lord knows, it’s been a long day.” She pointed to Belle and then Steven. “This is my only daughter, Belle.”

“And the pain in your ass,” Belle muttered.

Glenda ignored her. “And this is Steven. He’s Hannah’s brother.”

The big guy at the end of the table with the long dreadlocks squinted at him like Steven was a bug that needed squashing.

Steven somehow stopped himself from squinting right back at him.

“And I’ll just go around the circle, because that’s easiest.” She started at Lola. “Of course you know Lola and Agatha. This is Clarissa.”

Clarissa gave a little wave. “I’m related to Ellery through marriage. Don’t ask how. It’s complicated.”

Steven guessed she must have been from the contingent of witches.

“No,” she said.

“Huh?”

She gave her head a small shake. “Sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, but you’ve got a loud head.”

He pointed to himself. “
I
do?”

“You and Hannah. So you must be the one who was assaulted overseas.”

“I wasn’t aware word about that had gotten around so quickly.”

The lady cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your predicament wasn’t commonly known. Sometimes I forget what I’ve been told versus what I’ve accidentally overheard.”

Well, at least that’s one problem I don’t have.
“Don’t worry about it. I’d like to hear a little more about my loud head, though.”

“I don’t know what it means that I can hear what you’re thinking. There’s a very limited number of people I can hear the thoughts of, and they’re all weird. You’re weird, but not like me. You’re probably just a little psychic. Hannah had asked for my son-in-law’s help in helping you figure out what kind, but he’s not here today.”

“If you’re not a witch, then what are you?”

She brushed some crumbs from the table into her hand and deposited them onto a napkin. Her grin was her only response.

Belle leaned in and whispered, “That’s always a good sign.”

“No kidding.”

“If you’re not curious, I am.”

“Screw that. I’ve got too much on my mind already. I can’t deal with any more demands on me.”

“Any more—
oh
. Okay.”

There was the briefest flinch to Belle’s eyes—gone in a blink, but concerning. She wasn’t a woman who flinched. He must have said something to get her hackles up, but he had no clue what it might have been.

“Hey—”

“And next ...” Glenda interjected, moving to the next person at the table, one of the giants. A blond one in a plaid shirt who didn’t seem to be very interested in what was on his plate. He was too busy staring at Clarissa.

“That’s Bill,” Glenda said. “One of the guys who’s going to close that portal.”

“So you all say,” came the deep rumble from the big guy. He turned to look at the folks behind him, and Belle sucked in some air.

His eyes were bright blue and bottomless. Apparently, women named Belle liked that.

Super.
Apparently, Steven was competing for the attention of a woman he wasn’t sure he should try to keep with a man who was probably as old as the universe.

Belle whispered, “He looks just like John. It’s ... a little frightening.”

Oh.
Steven liked the idea of fright a little more than attraction. “Who’s John?”

“One of his sons. Clarissa’s grandson-in-law and Claude’s brother. He’s probably around here somewhere. You’ll see what I mean.”

“If you say so, cream puff.”

“Settle on one name, would you?” she said dryly.

There should have been at the very least a sigh or a quarter of a smile with that, but she gave him nothing.

Obviously, he’d pissed her off, and not by calling her
cream puff
.

He bumped her side with his so she’d at least look at him, but she didn’t. “I gotta get my chuckles somehow,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s what a lady likes to hear,” she said quietly through clenched teeth. “That she’s good for chuckles.”

Steven drew in a bolstering breath and fixed his gaze on the ceiling.
Lord, tell me what variety of shit I stepped into.

Beside Bill was Tito, who seemed to be having a very heated text message exchange given the furious movements of his thumbs over his phone screen.

Then there was an empty seat—probably Glenda’s as her foster son Travis was right next to it and Nick beside him on Mason’s lap—and then came the big guy with long dreadlocks, eyes that could
maybe
be called brown but kinda looked gold from where Steven was standing, and brown skin that seemed to reflect light.

“This is Tarik,” Glenda said.

“Fallen angel,” Belle muttered. “I’m sensing a theme here.
Damn
.”

“Uh-huh,” Steven returned through clenched teeth.

Glenda moved on to the guy at Tarik’s left—the one with a sword strapped to his back and a half-cleared plate in front of him.

He kept shoveling food into his mouth and didn’t even look up at them.

“This is Tamatsu,” Glenda said.

The guy stopped eating long enough to cut a look in their direction and then returned to his meal. He seemed to be the only one eating. Everyone else’s plate besides Mason’s seemed to be untouched.

“He, Tarik, and Bill go way back,” Agatha said.

Bill opened his mouth as if to refute that, and Clarissa put a hand over it. “You don’t remember it, but just believe it’s true. There’s no reason for us to lie about it.”

Bill furrowed his brow, and Clarissa dropped her hand.

Steven clucked his tongue.
That’s right. Hannah said one of the guys had been in a coma.

“
I’d appreciate if you didn’t bring it up
,” a mental voice that must have been Clarissa’s—given the way she was staring at him at the moment—sounded in his mind. “
Take my word for it that it’s not necessarily a completely bad thing that he can’t remember who he was, but for the moment, I’d like to keep him from asking too many questions about what he doesn’t know. His road back will be a long one.
”

“Uh ...” Steven swallowed, not sure how to respond—if he should just think the thoughts or
point
them to her or what.

She chuckled quietly. “
Yes, just point them at me.
”

“
I won’t bring it up, then. That doesn’t mean I’m not curious.
”

“
You should be. Just be discreet in who you question and when.
”

“
Got it.
”

And he had all kinds of questions.

Belle gave him another nudge.

“Yes?”

“You all right? I was starting to worry something had ... gotten into you,” she said flatly.

“Just thinking. Go fix your salad, little harpy.”

She rolled her eyes and carried her plate to the counter, and he carried the chairs to the living room where the “kids” were gathered.

Hannah immediately stood and pushed an armchair aside so Steven could fit the folding chairs at the corner of the coffee table. As he flattened one seat, she leaned in and whispered, “Did you get the Clarissa Morton mental whammy?”

“Yep.”

“I wonder what that means.”

“Probably that we’re the mutant freaks of the Welch family, but I suspect we both knew that already. Maybe if we tell Mom, she’ll tell us it’s caused by some experimental antinausea drug she took when she was pregnant.”

“Right before she calls the preacher, right? I hope that trick doesn’t work between the two of us. I don’t really want to hear what’s in your head.”

“Ditto, little sister. You keep your scary dreams to yourself. Don’t open up any sort of psychic pipeline and send that mess my way.”

“Sharing means caring, bro.”

“Nah, I’m good. You can keep ’em.”

A chuckling lady leaned forward from the other side of the coffee table with a hand extended. “I’m Gail.”

Steven shook it and gave her an assessing look. She was pretty and looked a little wild—barely contained, unlike the lady sitting to the side of her who did such a good job of buttoning herself up. “Gail. Mm-hmm.
Yes
, you are.”

Hannah pounded his back.

“What? I’m just sayin’ she looks like Ellery.”

Ellery snickered.

“Shit. I’m not gonna come on to the lady. I assumed she belonged to the guy next to her.”

Claude wriggled his eyebrows. “Good assumption. I imagine, however, that isn’t the only reason you wouldn’t come on to her.”

Probably not
. “You know something I don’t know?” Because if Claude’s assumption was that Belle was Steven’s, Steven wasn’t sure he was right. Or wrong.

“About the subject at hand?” Claude raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I imagine I know approximately the same thing you know.”

“Let’s compare notes.”

“We’ll compare notes later,” Claude said. “On to another subject, do we want to talk about Belle with or without her present?”

Steven shook his head. “No, no. Don’t cut her out like that. Whatever it is can’t be that bad that you need to warn me in advance.”

“It’s not a warning so much as a plan of action. Would she feel blindsided?”

“By what?” Sean asked. “Something going on you haven’t let us in on?”

“How about we see if Belle wants to let y’all in on it,” Steven said.

At that moment, Belle stepped into the room with a plate and a glass of tea with her mother following at her heels. Glenda handed Steven a plate and a drink and returned to the kitchen.

Belle took the empty seat beside Steven and looked at each person in the room. “It’s never a good sign when a room goes quiet when you walk in.”

Steven let out a breath and set his plate on the table. “Listen. Are you okay with Claude saying what he has to say to everyone in this room, or do you want to conference in private?”

She tightened her fingers around her fork and looked from Claude to Steven. “I guess everyone knows there’s something wrong with me.”

“Not all of it,” Steven whispered.

Hand shaking, she stabbed her fork into her potatoes, failing to get much onto the tines.

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist to still her frenetic motions. “Do this however you want. It’s up to you.”

She looked around, seeming to be studying the faces in the room. Counting them. “Where’s Miles?”

“She and Hank had to go out of town to check on Jamie and Travis’s mom,” Sean said.

Belle fiddled with her food some more, and they all watched. She had to know they were all watching, and that probably made it worse.

What the hell had Claude been thinking broaching the subject in front of everyone like that?
The guy either had a plan he wasn’t sharing, or he needed a swift kick in the ass.

Steven didn’t think he could kick Claude’s ass—gut feeling—but he’d try if Belle needed him to.

“Go ahead. I feel like I can tell ... some of you.” Belle’s gaze tracked to Jamie.