Chapter 14
Ben practically choked the life out of me when we stepped out of the car. He flat out refused to walk, begging for a lift. He wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed his legs around my waist. By the time we reached the porch, his grip had sufficiently cut off my circulation.
I glowered at Milo, linking our minds. “How did I let you convince me to do this?”
“It’ll be good for Ben. For you. For all of us.” Milo shot me a boyish grin, hiding his eager anticipation for a night out.
Our hosts’ surface thoughts went through a frenzy of to-dos while we waited for them to answer. I did my best to contain my frustration.
“Gonna get stuck that way,” Ben said and made a face, mocking my frown.
I pressed my forehead against his. “Good. I like it this way.”
He snorted, giddy and always enjoying my attitude for some reason. Then he clammed up, burying his face into my neck the instant the door opened.
Diaz grinned, wearing a particularly flashy gold and silver corset vest which popped all the brighter against his white jeans.
Christ, he was expecting a wild night on the town.
I didn’t even need to delve into his thoughts for the eager ache of excitement to cling to me.
He and Milo shared the same exhausting wavelengths.
“You must be Sheamus.” Diaz greeted our dog first, tipping his cowboy hat to the hound. “Priscilla loves making friends.”
Sheamus kept close to me, pressed against my leg.
Not a sign of affection for me, but merely his need to express loyalty purely for Ben, whom the hound would likely keep close to all night.
Ben, in turn, would hide with Sheamus, and they’d prove even more reluctant than I was on an outing, leaving poor Milo devastated by the household introverts he’d tethered himself to.
“I heard you worked the search and rescue patrols,” Diaz said, continuing his one-sided conversation with Sheamus. “Priscilla and I did that back in Texas for a few years. I wanted her to get the right kind of training before we stepped into guild work together.”
A fleeting, faint image of his two former familiars who’d been slain in combat flashed in Diaz’s thoughts. His eyes watered ever so slightly before he chuckled and washed away the sadness.
“Bet you two will have some fantastic stories to exchange.”
A distant snarl caught Sheamus’ attention. His good ear perked up, and he cocked his head curiously. Surely, the bear must’ve said something of interest.
“Go have fun,” Ben whispered, his face still half buried in my neck.
Sheamus sniffed the doorway, then cautiously shuffled inside, leaving one less attendant to worry myself with. Now, I’d just have to convince Ben to relax and give the evening a shot.
“Hey, hey, hey,” a woman in a gold and white dress said, drifting over as she levitated herself and a small child who wriggled in her grip. “So glad to see you join us.”
Oh my god, she wore a matching outfit to her husband. They were that couple. And I meant that in possibly the nicest way. It was revolting, mostly. Their minds were synchronized, blissful, and commutative. Even without words or magic, they knew exactly how their other half felt. Gross.
“What’s going on here?” Diaz asked, grabbing hold of the child dressed in pink.
“Diego was trying to sneak the dessert tray,” Diaz’s wife said.
She was quite the opposite of him. Where he was tall and muscular, she was short and stout, barely reaching his chest. Her round, flabby stomach and thick thighs were nothing like the image Milo carried in his memories of the much younger burlesque dancer he’d met more than a decade ago.
It seemed time had caught up with her, but she carried it well and quite confidently.
So confidently, in fact, Milo’s eyes drifted to her very noticeable cleavage before he averted his gaze.
“I wasn’t trying to sneak anything,” the kid said with a frosting-faced grin. “Just my favorite flavors.”
“Oh, just your favorite flavors, huh?” Diaz asked.
“Had to check.” Diego smiled, cheeks covered in specks of chocolate.
Based on his sugar high surface thoughts, he didn’t discriminate when it came to sweets. They were all his favorites.
“None of that,” Diaz said. “Best behavior, buddy.”
“Yes, sir.” Diego huffed and prepared for the gentle landing as his dad planted him on the floor. He straightened his composure as he stood between his parents. Then, he adjusted his hot pink tie and greeted us.
“I’m Vanessa,” his mother said, extending a hand to shake.
I used my free hand to greet her and kept a secure grip on Ben, who clung to me.
“And this is—”
“Diego, pleasure of course,” the small boy said with flair, bowing dramatically before smiling. His missing front teeth made his expression all the more ridiculous, but he clearly wanted to imitate his father’s behavior. “Wow. How’d you get your hair that shade of blue?”
Ben turned just enough to look down at the mesmerized Diego.
“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 parents to 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.
Diaz and his wife clawed at my mind, pulling me from my own aggravation, and toward their desperate hunger for an outing, new friends in an area they found themselves so isolated in.
Diaz found himself buried in work, wrapping up things in Texas, prioritizing his mentoring here in Chicago, and focusing on Global Guild tasks.
It stretched him thin, leaving very little breathing room for easy nights like this.