Page 97 of Impossible

“We can’t go today?”

“I don’t think either of us could climb a ladder right now,” Leon’s smile returns as he squeezes me into him slightly, making obvious my placement in his arms rather than on my own two feet, as well as his stump.

“Fair,” I relent.

“Plus, I think Hollis and Joshua are nearly done with dinner.”

With perfect timing, my stomach rumbles loudly.

We head back to the kitchen, the aroma of tomatoes and basil and sharp spices leading the way.

28

Magical

Hollis

IndieissmilingwhenLeon sets her down at the kitchen table. She runs her fingers over the cover of Joshua’s book, then turns and catches me watching her. Her eyes jerk down to her lap, her cheeks flushing.No, I want to say,please look at me. Don’t be afraid.

I stir the marinara and wait for her to look again. This time she holds my gaze, though I can tell it’s hard. Her eyes are cocoa brown, darker than Risk’s or mine. They are inquisitive, watchful like an owl. I want to be the answer to all of her unasked questions.

The bond sings with her. Risk swindled Leon into showing her the pack bed, but thank god he had the sense to yank her out before Risk could embarrass us any further. I beckon him down now in the bond, but he’s putting static up in front of his presence. The way he always used to when he didn’t want me knowing of his misdeeds.

I do my best to let it go. It isn’t as difficult as it used to be. Cooking with Joshua has me humming and skating around the kitchen, grabbing extra spices and peeking over his shoulder as he chops basil and grates cheese. He jumps every time, little flares of excitement and embarrassment and nerves coursing through him, unhidden in the bond. After nearly a decade together, I have to marvel at how new he feels.

He’s floating again. I didn’t realize I had stranded him in a desert, draining the ocean that he sailed on.

I’ve watched one pack fall apart in this house already. I won’t allow it to happen again.

“Hungry?” I ask Indigo. I mentally facepalm.Anorexic omega 101: What not to ask.

Before I can apologize though, she smiles. “Starved. It smells amazing.” She doesn’tseemanxious. Leon’s irritation flashes in the bond—he thinks I should have known better than to ask. I focus on her face, forcing him to tune in as well—she’s fine.

“What do you think of the house?” I ask, trying to block out his overprotective attitude.

This is why I’m no good with the bond—it’s just too much. Risk leapfrogs so easily, feeling all of us as acutely as reality and reacting to each in turn. For me, it feels like four people talking at once, vying for my attention; Indigo in front of me, and the rest of my pack in the bond. Joshua is good about quieting himself, not demanding attention, but Risk is in HD, all the time. I’m not sure if he doesn’t know how to hold back or just doesn’t want to.

“The piano room is my favorite,” Indigo replies. Then she turns to Joshua. “Will you play for me after dinner?”

We all freeze.

His reaction blooms in the bond—the initial clench of nerves in his belly, then actuallythinkingof the act. Sitting on the padded leather bench, delicate fingers sprawling over the ivory keys, eyes traversing the score in front of him, reading the key, the notes, chords bleeding into each other, one after the other. He hollows, the picture barely visible through the thick blue fog he’s lived in these past weeks. Heremembershe once felt joy, heknowsthat he would probably feel it again, but the effort is so great he doesn’t think he can. He doesn’t think it’s worth it.

He starts mechanically grating parmesan again. “I’m um, pretty out of practice.”

“Chopsticks?” Indigo chirps.

She knows what she’s doing. Joshua is squirming inside, his desire to please her warring with the blurry, immovable boulder that is his depression, holding his brain hostage. I want to enter his head and free him. All I can do is open the bond wider. My peace is his peace. His gratitude is immediate.

“I can do some chopsticks,” he offers. “Maybe even heart and soul.”

“I can play the harmony!” Indigo grins. I watch something flit behind her eyes, wiping the smile away for a moment—a memory, something unpleasant, but then it’s gone and she’s smiling again, turning to me. “And I’ve heard that you can wipe the floor with me at chess?”

Leon’s smugness is soupy. I glare at him before putting my smile back on for Indigo. “I’ll play,” I say. “Though I’m not as—”

Like a demon summoned, Risk leaps down the stairs before I can say his name. The air around him is a miasma of skunky green.

“We eat?” he crows. His eyes are red-rimmed and bleary.

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