Samhain (Midsummer #2)

25. Carter

25

Carter

T he last time I’d stumbled out of these woods, I’d been beat up, exhausted, and bruised from the night before. This time was no exception. We were covered in dirt from the race out of Faerie, and I reeked like sex and wine and sweat.

Poppy hung around my neck like a baby koala, her tiny body so fragile in my arms, I’d thought I’d break her in half with every step I took. Lex carried Miri, who had gone unconscious after building that wall of thistles. The rest of us didn’t speak. We walked through town, covered in filth and shock, avoiding the strange looks from the townspeople. When we got to the B I just knew we had to keep her safe.

“Let’s get you clean, huh?” Ivy said. “Hold your arms up.” Poppy did, and Ivy lifted the soiled white garment over her head, handing it to me afterward. I tossed it in the garbage. No way the dirt stains would come out, and even if they did, ten-year-olds didn’t wander around in shifts these days. Ivy helped her into the tub, and she sat, allowing my wife to run a washcloth over her muddy shoulders and tear-streaked cheeks.

“Where’s your father, Poppy?” I leaned against the sink, facing them, crossing my arms as I considered our options.

She shrugged. “Don’t have one, I guess.”

I nodded. “The queen never spoke about him? Or none of the other fairies?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Do you think he hurt them? My lady? Ashley and the others?”

Ivy bit her bottom lip and looked up at me, maybe seeking guidance about what to say.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth; I didn’t see any reason to lie.

“It’s because of me,” she muttered.

“What?” Ivy balked. “No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.” Poppy’s eyes filled with tears again, sliding down her cheeks in terrible, tiny blobs. “It’s because of what I am. What I can do.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Poppy covered her face and sobbed again. This time, Ivy pulled her into her lap, soaking wet, and wrapped a towel around her shoulders. My wife hugged her and rocked her until she calmed.

“Poppy,” Ivy said. “Listen to me. This is not your fault. The king did this. His actions are his own, okay?”

“If I didn’t exist,” Poppy whispered, “he wouldn’t have come for me. I am the Great Gift, the foretold.”

“That’s not your fault either,” I added. In this realm, prophecies didn’t exist outside of fairy tales and fiction. If they did, no one believed them, certainly not enough to rage after a ten-year-old child.

Poppy either didn’t believe me or she had gotten tired of arguing because she sank against Ivy’s torso and closed her eyes, hugging her like it was the first time Poppy had ever known affection. Then her eyes snapped open, completely white, like that waitress at the coffee shop. Ivy’s eyes did the same, the pupil and iris gone. I reached out to shake Ivy, maybe to break this trance, but she grabbed my wrist and dug in her nails.

One second, we were in the bathroom. The next, we were somewhere dark, surrounded by sand. City lights twinkled in the distance, but blinding spotlights burned my retinas up close, and I had to put my hands up to block them out. We were high in the air, standing on a platform.

No, not a platform. A decaying tan statue.

“Eh!” voices shouted from the ground. They screamed in a language I didn’t understand, probably telling us to get down from here. And that was when I realized where we were. We stood on top of the Sphinx sculpture in Egypt. I’d never been there before, but even from this angle, there could be no denying what it was.

“Holy shit,” I said.

“Are we in Egypt?” Ivy asked, holding Poppy tighter in her arms. “Poppy, what is this?”

The little girl tightened her grip on me, wincing her eyes against the wind, and in the next blink, we were back in the bathroom. Poppy shivered, and Ivy slumped on the side of the tub, closing her eyes as she readjusted to the present. My head fogged, and I had to put a hand out on the wall to steady myself.

“Poppy.” Ivy put the girl on the floor in front of her, setting her hands on the child’s shoulders so she could get eye-to-eye with her. “Did you take us to the Sphinx?”

She nodded. “That’s why he wants me. But I can only go places I’ve seen before.”

“You’ve been to Egypt?”

“Siobhan has,” she said. “She showed me a picture. It’s one of the only things I know about this realm.”

I met Ivy’s gaze, an expression on her face like we were both thinking the same thing. This was a problem. She couldn’t go zapping through the human world, appearing and disappearing at will. That would get her locked up or killed. And if the king ever got out, it wouldn’t take him long to find the only person on earth who could teleport.

I kneeled in front of Poppy and rubbed my hands over her upper arms, trying to warm her and soothe her. “I need you to make me a promise.”

She gave me a small nod.

“Don’t tell anyone about this gift,” I said, keeping my tone light and casual. I didn’t want to scare her. “Lex and Miri are okay, but no one else. You keep it to yourself, and don’t show it to anyone.”

Poppy pulled her lips between her teeth, looking back and forth between the two of us with wide eyes.

“Just until we know it’s safe,” I added. “Okay?”

She nodded, and I held up my pinky for her.

“This is the first thing you gotta learn about the human world. Pinky swears are the real deal. You can’t break a pinky swear.”

“Why?” Poppy said, her voice trembling. “What will happen?”

“Nothing serious,” Ivy said. “But that person might not want to do a pinky swear with you again. You’ll lose their trust. Understand?”

That seemed to resonate, and Poppy wrapped her finger around mine, giving me another nod.

“Pinky swear,” she said.

We got Poppy clean enough for bed and, when we went back to our room, Lex had returned with some clothing options from Bill’s lost and found pile. I put her in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, determined to keep her warm through the night. Then she crawled into my lap and held on to me until she fell asleep again.

“She can teleport,” I told Lex once I was certain Poppy was truly out.

“What the fuck did you just say?” He widened his eyes and blinked, perhaps trying to keep up.

“She took us to the top of the Sphinx.” Ivy crawled into the empty bed and flipped the covers over her lap.

“Like…the Sphinx in Egypt?” Lex said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Oh.” He pretended to be nonchalant. “How was that?”

“Unseasonably warm,” I said. “But you know, nothing like ripping through time and space in the middle of the night.”

“Fucking hell.” Lex pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“It’s why they’re fighting over her,” Ivy explained.

“Ashley told us our magic, the magic Siobhan gifted us, it’s elemental.” I ran a finger over Poppy’s hair, brushing it back from her face. “But hers is from time and space. That’s what she meant.”

Lex glanced back and forth between us. “She needs us…doesn’t she?”

“If the queen is harmed, and the king is hunting her,” I started. “Yeah, she needs us a lot.”

He took a deep breath, glancing over his shoulder to where Miri was still passed out. “You think she’s going to be okay?”

I nodded. “Our Juliet is strong.”

“And stubborn.” Ivy let out a little laugh.

“Let’s talk in the morning,” Lex said. “Once we’ve had a chance to sleep.”

Ivy took him up on that, turning out the light next to her bed and hunkering down under the covers. Her soft breathing evened out in seconds, leaving me alone with our husband. This time, something different lurked behind his hazel gaze. Now, some sick version of adoration hit me low in the gut, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Lex was regarding me—sitting here, holding a child in my arms.

It could almost be his child.

It could almost be his vision.

“Why are you looking at me like that, DC?” I murmured, readjusting Poppy on my chest so her head hit my sternum instead of my pec.

“You look entirely too fuckable,” he said, shaking his head. “It isn’t fair.”

I snorted a laugh.

“I’m telling you this now.” Lex shifted his hips in his seat, perhaps readjusting a hardening cock. “If you grow that”—he gestured to all of me—“into a dad bod, I’ll never let you out of my bed. You understand me? Chicago, I’ll fuck you every morning until you can’t walk.”

I chuckled harder. “Such things you say.”

“You think I don’t mean it? Bet me.”

I shook my head at his audacity.

“Go on. Bet me.”

“No, because then you’ll do it out of spite.”

He nodded and stood, gesturing to the bed. “Enough. Get some sleep. I’ll stand guard for a bit.”

“Poppy and I can take the couch.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said. “Take the child and get in bed with our wife.”

“Which one?” I teased.

“I don’t care,” he said, nudging me along. “Pick one.”

Figuring Poppy might feel the most comfortable with Ivy if she woke up before I did, I put her down in the middle of the mattress and scooted in on the other side, tucking the covers around the three of us. Maybe Poppy’s presence reached some instinctual maternal part of Ivy because she rolled toward us, wrapped an arm over the girl’s tiny torso, and tucked her in close. Poppy let out a contented sigh and relaxed into the touch.

The sight of Ivy cuddling a child to her, the thought of sleeping next to the two of them all night, protecting them with my body and my presence and my warmth, it woke every alpha male caveman instinct I’d ever had. I tried not to melt. I tried not to be a stupid fucking sap. But I was still a sentimental shit, even after everything I’d been through.

They said I’d been protective over Lizzie?

Shit, that hadn’t come close to this.

I thought about the picture Lex painted earlier—the cottage in the woods with our children, growing old together.

Come home to us, he’d made me promise. In the end, it’s us.

I wanted that more than I’d ever wanted anything in the world, including acting, including Hollywood. When I wrapped an arm over both of them and pulled them into me, I swore I’d give it all up to keep this.

Lex’s vision had become my vision.

Now, Poppy was a part of that, too.