Page 41 of Gemini Christmas
I give Ronin the world’s most miniscule head shake.I don’t know. But for fuck’s sake, don’t say anything.
While Vasili watches my every move, I lean over casually to scratch the silky warm fur behind Gem’s tufted ears.
A deep-throated purr rumbles from the kitten’s chest.
By now, Lucius has gotten everyone outta their parkas. Maxim and Mordred scramble up from the floor and follow Dez into the kitchen to start another batch of buckwheat pancakes and brew a fresh pot of coffee.
“Let’s have a look at our patient.” This firm declaration of intent comes from one of Racetrack’s moms, the one who’s a doctor. A petite woman with a sleek blond pageboy and RT’s same no-nonsense demeanor, she beelines straight for Neo, bearing a first aid kit and a purposeful expression.
Racetrack’s other mom, who heads a construction crew in her day job, has already ducked back outside to help Theo Mercury’s handyman tow our SUV out of the ditch.
“I’m feeling totally fine, Dr. Prynne, really,” Neo insists. “I heal shifty-swifty, you know, thanks to all my mating bites.”
“Your healing process does seem to be enhanced,” the doc murmurs, peering closely at the dwindling lump on his noggin. “I’m not seeing much swelling or bruising.”
I hope Lucius is hearing that, with his sharp shifter senses, as he shovels snow off the porch steps to make it easier for all of us to leave. Lucius used to be so worried about the effects of biting Neo (who doesn’t have a shifter chromosome in his whole DNA, which makes the whole process a little less studied).
But those bites we all gave him turn out now to be a totally good thing for Neo.
“We all took really good care of Neo last night—in ways he seemed to be fine with,” I say helpfully, just to see our bookworm blush to his hairline.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dr. Prynne says briskly, but remembers to add, “Your Majesty.”
“You just do your thing, doc. We definitely wanna know for sure he’s okay. And no need to kowtow,” I add.
That’s actually my cue to take off my crown and prop it on the end table, between an empty Christmas glass filmed with eggnog residue and the set of shiny new throwing knives that Max had commissioned for Ronin as his Secret Santa and sparring partner.
RT’s mom spares me a thoughtful look, then turns back to her patient without argument. I figure she gets it. She gets that I don’t need any “Your Majesties” when I’m just spending time here with my family, sharing our first Christmas.
Unexpectedly, my throat thickens and my eyes water.
I mean, honestly. I spent last Christmas totally alone in Singapore. As the one-woman advance team for the high stakes heist I was planning to pull, with my conniving ex-bestie and our sneaky shared boyfriend, on New Year’s Eve.
No Christmas tree.
No presents.
And, as it turned out, no love.
Definitely no warlocks.
Let’s just say we’ve all come a really long way in a year.
I wrap my arms around the swell of my belly and kinda get lost dreaming about how next Christmas is gonna be even more amazing, with a clutch of dragonets, a wolf pup, and a baby witch or warlock playing under the Christmas tree.
We’re gonna need a bigger tree,I muse, fingers sneaking under Gemini’s furry chin to administer more scratching. Under my fingertips, her tiny throat vibrates with pleasure.
Meanwhile, Dr. Prynne probes that lump on Neo’s head, asks him a series of quiet questions, and shines her tiny beam into his patient eyes. As our resident healer, Ash moseys over to hunker down beside her and offer a second opinion.
But since our Seelie healer ultimately gave Neo the all-clear to get some shuteye last night, it’s pretty obvi our bookworm’s gonna be fine.
At last, even Dr. Prynne seems satisfied with Neo’s prognosis.
After the doc reassures him about his son’s solid health, Theo Mercury gravitates right to Zephyr. V gives me the lifted Romanov eyebrow, because I totally called that one. As independent ruler of Avalon, the Dark Fae King is the most politically significant of all my kings.
And Theo Mercury loves politics like a shark loves blood.
“We’re plannin’ to open gifts after dinner up at the chalet,” the senator says cheerfully to Zephyr. “But looks like y’all got a head start here, Your Radiance.”
