Page 55 of In the Dark

Or so she admonished herself. She wouldn’t tell Aisanna about the latest disaster and the potential destruction of the house. Not yet, anyway. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“She’s been researching, too,” Elon commented, jumping to his girlfriend’s defense. “I wish there was some way I could help her. You know how she is. She barricaded herself in the bedroom and won’t let me inside.”

Morgan followed the girls’ lead and kicked off his shoes.

Tugging Karsia behind him, and infinitely surprised when she allowed him to keep hold of her hand, he walked out of the small foyer and into the living room. Two leather couches flanked a fireplace large enough to fit a moose inside. Shadows from the flames flickered against the walls.

He noted the muted hush immediately. This place was heavily warded. He took a moment to adjust the pressure inside his ears.

Elon followed them, flashing a brief smile. “I made up the spare bedroom for you,” he said to Morgan. “I had a feeling you’d be joining us before long. I think you’ll find the place more comfortable than you think.”

“I can see.” Morgan dropped to the couch and let himself stoop forward, elbows on knees, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. His bottom ached from the long drive and a phantom ache resounded from his shoulder. “How do you get used to the weight in the air?”

Elon shrugged. “You stop noticing after a while.”

Morgan glanced over at Karsia, noting the way her fingers trembled, knees bouncing up and down. Energy constantly in motion. Lifting a hand lightly, he slid it over hers and stilled the motion.

She leaned in close, her breath whispering in his ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for what you’ve done.”

“I expected nothing less.”

“Let me get you some stew,” Elon offered. “A family specialty, and about the only thing I can cook without a recipe. I’m good with soup.”

“I’m terrible at cooking. I’m grateful for anything at this point.” Morgan sent an exhausted smile toward his newest guy pal—his only guy pal, actually—before tuning in to the ominous rumble in his stomach. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do. Stew for everyone. It makes me feel useful.”

“You’re human,” Morgan commented. “It doesn’t worry you? What’s happening?”

Elon grinned. “I love Aisanna. She tolerates me. I figure she keeps me around to cook while she’s off saving the world.”

“It takes a strong man to love a witchy woman.” Morgan made the comment offhand.

“It takes a strong man to love any woman, is what I think you mean. I’m no different from anyone else.” Elon tipped his head before retreating to the tiny kitchen.

Karsia pointed over her shoulder. “We’re planning a war while Martha Stewart over there is busy playing host. All he’s missing is the apron.”

“Leave him alone. He’s a good man and the only one of us capable of thinking about necessities right now. I’ve gotten to like him quite a lot.” Astix curled up next to the fire and warmed her hands, light glinting off the numerous golden rings in her nostrils. “I know I would feel a little better with something in my belly.”

“Fine, fine.” Karsia held up her hands. “I’m just saying what’s on everyone’s mind.”

“What’s on everyone’s mind?” Aisanna moved down the stairs, taking each step carefully, the skin beneath her eyes swollen and red. Her hands gripped the rail tightly.

“Never mind. Sit and try to relax.” Astix did not look up from the fire. “There’s not much time left. Please say you’ve done your homework and have something useful?”

“I’m sorry to tell you, I haven’t made much headway.” Aisanna sighed and sat next to Morgan. “Good to see you’re still here.” She awkwardly patted his knee.

“I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”

The oddness of it was, every word he spoke was true. Being with them, being together, brought him a level of calm he had not experienced in a long time. They gathered around the room with a natural camaraderie born of people thrust together in unusual circumstances. Morgan appreciated each one for the energy they brought to the table. He slid into his role as voice-of-reason and casual-protector effortlessly, and with the danger ahead and the terror sitting next to him on the couch, he knew he was right where he needed to be.

Aisanna pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t lie. Believe me, I am very good at ferreting out the truth. Everyone lies. It’s about where you are on the scale.”

“I’m not in the business of lying, generally.”

Morgan looked up when Elon made his way back into the room holding a tray laden with hand-thrown pottery bowls. Steam rose from each, tantalizing and homey, filling the air with the scents of roasted vegetables and savory beef. Accepting the stew, Morgan drew the smells into his nostrils, his mouth watering. Oh yes, this was exactly what he needed.

“Thank you, man.”

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