Solomon's Sieve (25 page)

Storm held up his own stem of ruby red liquid and corrected, “A wine for the people.”

They clinked, drank and dug into Storm’s Neapolitan masterpiece.

Litha turned to Glen. “Tell me something fun. What’s your latest news?”

“Got my first assignment right before you picked me up. We, Z Team I mean, are going to Bucharest on Tuesday. Escorting a squint specialist on some unnamed mission. Something The Order wants checked out, I guess.

“Anyhow. This is it. Tuesday night at this time I’ll be Sir Catch for real. Knight Errant. Off to see the world on a bona fide version of who let the dogs out.”

Storm’s eyes twinkled with amusement and something that looked a little like pride. At least that was what Litha thought. She couldn’t imagine why Storm would be so much more emotionally engaged with the idea of Glen as hunter than he had been with the idea of Glen as administrator. But there it was.

“Dogs, huh? That’s about right. I wish you weren’t making your bones with those…”

“Don’t say it,” Glen interrupted. “They may be exactly what you’re thinking, but they’re also my team mates now.”

Storm was silent as he looked at Glen thoughtfully. He tipped his wine glass, shoved a ridiculous amount of romaine lettuce in his mouth then smiled at Glen while he chewed. Glen read his own interpretation into that response and smiled back while Litha looked from one to the other wondering what was passing between them.

“Is that who you were arguing with when I picked you up?” Litha asked semi-innocently.

Remembering her comments from earlier, Storm’s gaze shot to Litha. “That’s who you were talking about?!? Gods cursed Z team?!? Dreamy eyes and tattoos?”

Litha stared at Storm wishing to the Seven Legions that she hadn’t gone out of her way to get his jealousy juices flowing.

“Yes. It was Z Team,” Glen said quietly. Storm and Litha were staring at each other. Neither acknowledged Glen’s comment in any way. “I’d offer to leave, but I wouldn’t get back until after I have to report tomorrow morning. I’d probably have to walk to the interstate then hitchhike to the airport and gods only know when I’d get a flight to Newark. And with the time difference…”

Glen was desperately hoping to distract them with chatter. The air in the room was heavy. Glen hadn’t ever experienced the TV sitcom ideal of nuclear family life, but he imagined that was what it felt like to have parents argue.

Finally, Litha reached over and rested her hand lightly on Storm’s knee. “You know I didn’t mean any of that. I was mad and worried about you. I guess I wanted to knock you off balance. It was childish. I’m sorry.”

Storm looked at Glen. “Would you excuse us for a moment? Don’t wait for us. Go ahead and eat.”

Glen looked at his food. “Okay, but yours is getting cold.”

Storm pulled Litha up as he stood and guided her out the back door onto the porch. He closed the kitchen door, urged her a few feet away, and shoved her against the Italianate stucco wall. His delight at hearing her little gasp when he pressed his body into hers massaged away his jealousy. And he smiled at the sound of her little moans when he rocked against her.

“Tell me I’m the only one for you.” She opened her mouth to do exactly that, but didn’t get past the first syllable before he covered her mouth with a kiss so heated one would have thought she’d tried to leave him. He broke from the kiss, “Tell me,” he demanded.

Litha’s heart rate had accelerated so quickly that she was panting. “You’re the only one. There could never be anyone, but you.”

The part of Litha’s brain that was still functioning normally was amazed that someone as strong and confident and beautiful as Storm could need that reassurance. And she was sorry she’d been dumb enough to make him feel emotionally threatened and question her single-minded devotion. That was where her thoughts had gone, when she felt her dress being raised.

“Climb on, baby.”

“Storm! What? No! What if Glen…?”

“Glen’ll stay put.”

He said it like Glen had no mind of his own, but was held in place by Storm’s will alone. That last word was punctuated with the pop of practically new raspberry lace panties being rent asunder and cast aside. She felt him open his pants and started to protest further, but didn’t get far before he lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord just before Litha felt her husband drive into her in one powerful thrust. She wanted to cry out, partly from surprise and partly from pleasure, but she didn’t want Glen to hear. Dinner and a sex show. No.

Everything about the incident was out of the ordinary. Storm wasn’t the sort of lover who tore panties and impaled her standing up in the great outdoors. He was acting out a claiming, a primitive rite of territorialism. And she was enjoying it. No. Reveling in it.

It didn’t last long and didn’t need to. It was short, fast, violent and loving. Ten minutes before she would have said that a phrase like violently loving was an oxymoron, but her sexy beast of a husband had just made nonsense of that notion.

He sat her back on her feet with a sweetly lingering kiss that ended with a smug smile of pure satisfaction. Just to be sure she got the message, he ducked down to catch her gaze in his. “And don’t forget it.”

If she wasn’t already married to the man, she would have swooned.

He bent down and retrieved the ruined scrap of lace. After turning it over in his fingers a couple of times, he shoved it down into his pants pocket, but made sure there was just the tiniest hint of raspberry still showing. When Litha realized that he intended to walk back into the house like that, the swoon was replaced with outrage.

“Storm. You are
not
walking around like that’s a trophy!”

She reached for it, but he started walking backwards, smiling. “I’m not?”

Litha lunged, but he, of course, was quicker.

Glen looked up to see a smiling Storm rush through the door with Litha right on his tail. Her face was flushed and her lips were swollen. Glen hated himself for noticing that Rosie’s mother may have been a fantasy walking. She was Rosie’s mother for gods’ sake and noticing her attractiveness made him feel tawdry.

“Have fun?” Glen wasn’t worried about a smack down. If they could politely excuse themselves to leave him sitting in their kitchen while they were fucking on the patio, he could afford a moment of teasing impertinence.

Storm’s answer was a smile broadening into a grin. Litha blushed madly, smacked Storm on the abs with the palm of her hand, and retook her seat at the table.

“Sorry, Glen,” she started. “We needed to clear up a misunderstanding. These things happen with married people sometimes.”

Glen could think of about a hundred things to say, but wisely, said nothing.

Storm turned to Litha and said, “What’s for dessert?” in such a way that made her wonder if the caveman behavior didn’t need to be curtailed.

“As a matter of fact, I got a turtle cheesecake from Weingartens.”

“Sounds great, doesn’t it, Glen?” Storm slapped Glen on the shoulder.

Glen smiled at Litha. “Definitely! Butter pie with chocolate and nuts. What could be better?” Litha stared at Glen for a couple of beats. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You’ve just made me seriously rethink eating that.”

“Aw, come on,” Glen said good-naturedly, “with your figure you can afford…” At that point in the sentence, Glen’s brain reengaged as he realized that Storm was touchy about people noticing Litha’s looks. He didn’t have to look at Storm to know that he was glaring.

“Yes?” Litha asked. “With my figure I can afford to…?”

“I, ah, lost my train of thought.”

Litha looked at the way Storm was glowering at Glen. “I’ll bet. Okay. Coffee with your butter pies?”

Both guys said yes.

Glen helped Litha clear, but she shooed him back to the table when she started making coffee.

Storm was lying in wait. “Piecing bits together. Sounds like Litha dropped in on an argument. Standoff, did she say?”

“I don’t think she said standoff.”

“Hmmm. But there was some disagreement.”

“Yes.”

“You want to tell me what that was about?”

Glen’s eyes slid to Storm’s and Storm saw challenge there for the first time in their relationship. “Even if I wanted to tell you, I wouldn’t.”

“I see.” Storm’s tone was noncommittal, but inside he was doing a victory dance thinking that Z Team couldn’t be luckier if they’d won the lottery. They’d managed to walk off with a new team member who was loyal, tough, and smart all in one package. He hoped they understood that they’d been given a priceless gift.

“So,” she said. They both looked at Litha as she set down her coffee cup. “You know it’s not an ambush because I told you I was going to ask. What do you know about why Rosie felt like she needed to disappear?”

Glen put his fork down and sat back. “She said that? That she needed to disappear?”

“Yes. Pretty much.”

Glen squirmed a little. There was little doubt that the conversation was awkward. The fact that Glen had put his fork down was testament to that!

He wasn’t sure how much he should divulge. He couldn’t say it was none of their business. Of course Rosie was their business. To some extent Glen was their business. He just wasn’t sure how much about Rosie
and
Glen, the couple, was their business.

As he sat deliberating his options he happened to glance at Storm who took a man-sized bite of cheesecake and raised an eyebrow. Since he couldn’t decide on a “best” course of action, he decided to lay it out.

“Rosie went with me on an errand I was running for Elora. While we were gone I told her that I’d signed on with Z Team. She didn’t like the idea of me being inducted into Hunter Division. At all. So she gave me an ultimatum.”

Glen noticed that Storm frowned at that.

“She basically said I needed to choose between her and knighthood. I said I’d spent half my life training for it. I told her I love her, but I’m too young to take a desk job.”

Glen saw that Storm and Litha exchanged glances at various points in the story.

“That’s pretty much it. I laid it out for her. Then she laid it out for me by saying that I needed to change my mind and call by dinner on the following Thursday night. I didn’t.”

“You didn’t call?” Litha asked.

“I didn’t think it would be the best thing for our future to let her dictate what, when, who, and where. So I didn’t change my mind and I waited until midnight to call. But she didn’t answer. I’ve called a lot since then. Texted, too. Nothing.”

Storm turned to Litha. “Did you know about any of this?”

Litha shook her head. “She wouldn’t say anything more than that she had to get away for a while.”

“She probably didn’t tell us anything because she was ashamed of behaving like such a brat! As she should be!”

Litha gaped. Storm had never criticized Rosie. Not ever. “Storm.”

“You can’t think that was behavior worthy of a child of two parents who work for Black Swan.”

“Well, no, I…”

He interrupted that thought. “Of course she didn’t tell us why she was going. She knew that I, for one, would think less of her. I mean, how do you turn to your dad, who happens to be a Black Swan knight, and say, ‘My boyfriend threatened to accept an offer of knighthood so I’m running away?’ Criminently!”

Glen wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but Storm’s reaction wasn’t one of the possibilities on his list of scenarios. “So you’re not mad at me?”

Storm looked at Glen like he’d temporarily forgotten he was there. “Why would I be mad at you? It’s our daughter who’s behaving badly.”

“Storm,” Litha tried again, “she’s really young and inexperienced.”

“I agree,” Glen said. “And I have a theory.”

He had their attention, but waited for them to say they wanted to hear it.

“Well?” Storm was already irritated. No sense poking the bear.

“I know she has your memories.” He looked between them. “But I don’t think she views them viscerally. To her, your memories are like historical facts.”

“You’re going to have to give me more. I’m not getting the point, Glen,” Litha urged him to continue.

“Okay. Let’s say you saw a movie about the Battle of Doe Ford. You may know the facts surrounding the experience, but since you didn’t experience it personally, you didn’t integrate feelings associated with it and you didn’t learn any lessons either. When Rosie views your memories, she does it without real understanding. Like watching a movie about somebody else’s life. The events won’t resonate unless they’re seen in the context of shared experience.”

“You’re talking about maturity,” Litha said.

“In a nutshell, yes. I love her, but she’s not as mature as she looks. She’s not fourteen months old, but she’s not twenty-one either. If she had been a…”

“What were you going to say?” Storm demanded. “Were you going to say if she had been a normal kid?’”