“It’s amazing. I want hair that cool. I could never.” Diego’s big brown eyes stared like saucers at Ben’s sky-blue hair. “Your dads let you dye it? Whoa. So cool. I’d totally rock pink.”
“It’s natural,” Ben said.
“Natural?” Diego asked, wide-eyed. “Not-uh. How?”
“I dunno know.” Ben shrugged. “Trauma.”
“Wow!” Diego hovered, unconsciously casting his levitation, almost pressing his face against Ben’s, then he whirled around to his parents. “Can I have drauma? Pleeeeaaassse.”
“Um, hmmmmm.” Diaz tipped his hat toward his wife. “Maybe if you ask your mom real nicely.”
“Nope, not until you’re older,” Vanessa said with a nervous laugh.
“Mooooom, come on.” Diego landed on the ground and tugged on her dress. “His daddies let him have drauma.”
“If you want trauma so badly, go bother your sister,” Vanessa said quite sternly. “She’ll gladly accommodate you.”
Diego huffed, thoughts of his mean twin sister swirling with his daydream fantasies, and as quickly as his attitude turned sour, it just as quickly returned to something jubilant and lost on a high of sugar.
“Wanna hang out in my room?” Diego asked. “I can show you all the cool stuff I got. And I can introduce you to Mr. Wobbles.”
“Mister who?”
“Only the best guy in the world,” Diego said with a bright smile.
“Imaginary friend,” Vanessa mouthed.
“He’s very independent and expresses his curiosities through imagination,” Diaz whispered.
“Or you can hang with my folks and your dads.” Diego shrugged. “Whatevers.”
“They’re not my dads.” Ben wriggled loose, climbing down me like a tree he’d grown bored with. “They’re my guardians, is all.”
The clarification served Ben well, protecting him from feelings he didn’t wish to process, to feel. Family meant something. He’d lost that, and the idea of a new one came with a struggle. There was a war inside his heart that raged, equal parts betrayal and fear of losing love all over again. In a way, I related. I grasped why Ben needed the distance, the barrier—much like his magic.
Still, the words stung. It mostly pinched at Milo’s heart, but his pain invaded my emotions and reminded me how Ben still needed that layer of distance. He wanted a family, but mostly, he wanted his family. Sadly, they were all dead, from his parentsto his aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and godparents and friends of friends of friends. That beautiful town his family had helped build ended up obliterated, taking all of them with it. Everyone Ben had ever trusted and loved and cared for had died.
Now, he had two guardians who he didn’t want to want but desperately needed to make it through a day. Most of the time, he struggled with others. Much like myself. Unlike me, Ben had valid reasons to crave isolation. The pain of losing others would be too much for him to handle again.
“Have fun,” Milo called out, but Ben and Diego ignored the sad plea. “They’ll have fun. Lots of fun.”
Milo smiled brightly, eager to enjoy his night even if his thoughts swam with concern for Ben. I hadn’t realized, only seeing Milo’s excitement for a date night, but he anticipated Ben remaining at our side. He wanted his little pack of introverts. Milo worried he didn’t spend nearly enough time with Ben, with Sheamus, with me. Even if we worked in the same building.
“You might’ve been able to get rid of them,” I thought, lightly shoulder-bumping Milo as we made our way inside. “But you’re stuck with me, mister.”
The smile on Milo’s face grew. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Cheer returned to his mind, and he eagerly led me into Diaz and Vanessa’s house.
“I think you’re going to enjoy the evening we planned,” Vanessa said, thoughts drifting to the festivities of the exotic night out.
I strained to give the thinnest of smiles, one which apparently appeared more menacing than cheerful, based on the perplexed expressions I got in return.
“Dorian’s more of a night-in kind of guy.” Milo slapped my back. “But trust me, he’s gonna have a blast at Gwendolyn’s. We occasionally frequent the place together.”
I shot Milo a glare. By ‘frequent together,’ Milo meant that my telepathy latched onto his mind whenever he went there for an investigation into some case, seeking advice from the wicked crime lord, Cassidy Gardner. The same one who now wedged her way into official meetings with guild masters like Campbell.
Gwendolyn’s Guns & Gals remained one of my least favorite places in the world. Cassidy annoyed me to no end, the club itself was noisy, and the illegal enchantment ring the city overlooked was vexing to say the least.
