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“Plenty of rooms?” I repeat, turning to look at him in confusion.
He looks back at me like the reason is obvious.
And of course it is, but it takes me a second to realize. Because my life’s been so chaotic up to this point that children have been as far from my mind as they could possibly get. But we’re looking into the future, beyond the dark wall of tomorrow, where anything is possible. Anything we could want we have there, in that fantasy future. Do I want children? The boys watch my face closely, and I feel awkward under so much scrutiny.
But deep down, I find my answer. I do. I want children. “How many children do you suppose we’ll have?” I ask. “At least three.”
“Three’s a good number,” says Braxton. “So is five.”
“Five?” I laugh. Five is a lot.
“I’ll build a tire swing in the front yard,” he promises.
“We’ll need a sturdy tree in the front yard, then,” says Max, and I can almost see him picturing it.
“A willow,” Orson posits. “I’ve always found them so majestic.”
“A willow it is,” says Max, like it’s just that easy.
As we descend into this rabbit hole, painting a portrait of our ideal future, I lie back against the mattress and the boys start teasing my body with roaming fingertips. Braxton traces the veins of my forearm while Max strokes the underside of my chin with the back of his index. Orson lifts my shirt to dance his nimble fingers along my midriff. They set off a chain reaction that begins with a tingling across the surface of my body, coalescing as a deep ache between my legs.
I begin stripping articles and depositing them over the edge of the mattress, granting more flesh to their collective touch. Each follows suit until we’re four nude bodies entangled on the bed, myself as the focal point around which they revolve.
Bliss mounts a counteroffensive to rout the fear. With every kiss and caress, it advances until the dread that overtook me flitters off like sheets of paper on the wind. We make love, Max, Orson, and Braxton occupying my body in various arrangements until we’ve sated our hunger. Then my eyes close to provide the screen onto which dreams may project.
Tomorrow might be hard, but at least we had today.
ELEVEN
Max
The day drags at an agonizingly slow pace until it’s time to get ready and suddenly the minutes speed past. Are we ready? By all outward appearances, the answer is yes. I stand before the floor-length mirror in the guest bedroom downstairs to inspect the fit of my tux. It looks good. I’m shocked for a moment that the Enforcers were able to get a suit that fits so perfectly, until I recall that the Enforcers retain every bit of information about their agents they can scrounge.
It’s unsettling. I’ll have to make sure to never make an enemy out of them.
My phone rings and I answer it before it has a chance to ring again. “Hello.”
It’s the boss man. Of course it is. He’s nervous about this operation. There are too many eyes on it. “My superiors wanted me to make your agenda clear.”
Here it comes.
“Blood Mage Alpha.” Simon, but they don’t need to know that. “Needs to be killed at all costs. The other Blood Mages we’d prefer you kill as well, but the Enforcers will be there to act as clean-up as long as the threat has been neutralized.”
That means the Blood Mages can be dead or close to dead, but they don’t want to risk their people on the Blood Mages if they’re too powerful for us to handle. If we die and the mission fails, they’ll still deal with them at a later date, one at a time. They have to, because the death and havoc they’ve been unleashing on the country won’t go unexplained by the humans forever. It’s bad enough that rumors have been circling about the Blood Mages amongst the supernaturals, and the heat is being turned up on the Enforcers.
“I understand.”
He sighs. “In the last week alone, a Blood Mage slaughtered an old vampire family and robbed them of their wealth. Another pulled the limbs off a shifter woman when she rejected him. Another burned down an office building, trapping everyone inside. These monsters are cocky as fuck. They think they’re untouchable. We don’t know why they’ve become so powerful, but they have to be dealt with. Each attack is becoming worse than the last. The boss says they’re fucking spitting in our faces and daring us to try them. The thing is, if you can’t succeed with the asset’s help, we don’t know what we’re going to do. This has to work.”
“Got it.” My stomach churns. The Enforcers are scared.
“And the expectation is that you do succeed, Max. All eyes are on you now. I can’t promise what will happen to you or your team if you fail your mission.”
A warning and a threat. Great. “Understood.”
He’s quiet. I get the sense he wants to say more. “Be careful out there.”
“Yes, sir.” The call ends, and I slip my phone into my pocket, trying not to focus on his words.
