Chapter Three #2
Picking up her cup, Gigi took a sip. Watching as her aunt selected a caramel choc square from the tray, breaking off a corner and feeding it to Canary.
Five seconds passed, the bunny remaining a solid dark purple colour.
Lucy promptly popped the rest of the treat into her mouth, making hmmm noises of appreciation as she chewed.
Lucy pushed the tray towards Nico. “You should try one. They’re delicious. ”
Grumpy expression unchanging, Nico reached out, snagging a caramel choc square as well. Freezing with it inches from his mouth, as Aunt Lucy suddenly waved her hands in protest.
“No. No. You have to feed a bit of it to Canary first.” Lucy determinedly ignoring a loud thump from overhead and the sound of something breaking.
Biting back a sigh, Gigi fought to keep her smile in place. There was no need to make a production out of this. The squares all came from the same batch. If Canary hadn’t reacted when Lucy fed it some, then Nico was in no danger.
Still, Nico appeared resigned to placating his potential client, breaking off a piece and shoving it into Canary’s tiny mouth, all but bopping the rabbit on the nose in his haste, already tossing the rest of the square into his own mouth before Canary had finished swallowing.
There was absolutely no reason for Gigi to double-check Canary’s reaction. Yet out of habit she glanced his way, her insides clenching in sudden dread as Canary’s cotton-ball tail for a nanosecond glowed fire-engine red. If you had blinked, you would have missed it.
No one else seeming to notice the brief anomaly. No, no. NO! Not just any colour but bold crimson red. Why did it have to be crimson? And so bright? But it had only been for a brief nano-second, right? A barely there blip.
Her gaze shifting to Nico, watching as he swallowed down the treat.
His grumpy expression remained locked and loaded; no change there.
Huh. Red meant love, lust, passion. All her customers adored her charged-up Valentine’s adults-only offerings.
Canary turning a faint red when he tried those treats.
Any deeper shade, he had a tendency to hump himself to death.
To be honest, it wasn’t pretty when that happened.
Yet, Nico Yanez appeared entirely unaffected. Still grumpy and businesslike. In his all black ensemble, jeans, shirt, and boots, with his dark short hair, five o’clock shadow dusting his chin and grim expression, he reminded Gigi of a wild west gunslinger. “You mentioned a party?” His tone clipped.
Didn’t he know you were supposed to make small talk first? Put the client at ease. Only then did you broach the opportunity and begin getting an outline and scope?
Lucy opened her mouth, pausing as three more loud thumps sounded from overhead. Clearly her husband was confusing nap time with roughhousing time. Shaking her head in exasperation, Lucy continued talking. “Asher’s first birthday.”
Seriously? Aunt Lucy thought they needed six months to begin planning a birthday party for a one-year-old? Some streamers and several cupcakes would surely pass muster.
“There will probably be about six hundred of us.”
Oh.
“The Valhalla side of the family makes a big fuss of milestones. Especially turning one. There’s a whole ceremonial passing over of a flaming sword to the infant. And Odin will insist upon giving a speech.”
OH!
“The halls of Valhalla are humongous, not to mention dark and drafty. It’s going to take a lot of decorations to make it party-ready.
I’ve already booked a couple of relatives who specialise in illusions, so that just leaves the food and beverages.
Honestly, that child is never going to get any sleep.
” Lucy muttered the last part as a few more thumps sounded overhead.
Gigi had turned on her tablet and was already busy making notes and outlining a few potential ideas, biting back a smug smile as Nico pulled out a crumpled bit of paper, jotting down a few notes of his own with a chewed up pencil.
“Nico. I thought barbeques would be easiest. And the Valhalla lot are notorious carnivores.”
Thump. Thump. Thump. Someone heavy was making their way downstairs.
“Meat. Meat and more meat. And when it comes to the salads. Perhaps they could contain meat? No one will touch them otherwise. I… Oh, Gunther.” Lucy’s gaze was fixed upon her husband as he entered the kitchen, blood streaming from a raised hand now missing a digit. “Not again.”
Again? Again! Gunther Valhalla often roughhoused with his six-month-old grandson and lost a finger? Yikes.
“I found it this time.” Gunther was beaming. The man was a demi-god. His father, Odin. Seven feet in height, his muscles burdened by even more muscles. Capable of shooting lightning bolts out of his eyes. And yet somehow he’d lost a tussle with his baby grandson.
“Thank the Merciful Lady.” Lucy grabbed a nearby clean container, holding it out to her meld mate.
Gigi wincing as Gunther dropped his finger into it. Ick. Um, yes, she should go. When there was blood, it was clearly time to make a hasty exit. Problem was, Aunt Lucy was currently bustling Gunther towards the Portal just off the kitchen and blocking the way.
“I don’t know why you have to fuss; it’ll grow back on its own.” Gunther rumbled.
“And you’ll do nothing but moan and groan the entire time.
No, we’re going to the hospital, and Nell will reattach it for you.
” Lucy opened the Portal door, shooing her reluctant husband inside with an impatient hard glare.
Seeming to remember at the last moment that she had visitors.
“Oh. We’re going to have to re-schedule. I’m so sorry about this.”
A thump sounded from the second floor. In no way ominous at all, given there was only a six-month-old baby up there.
“Hadleigh and Vaughn are due back within the hour. Poor Asher must be completely exhausted. No doubt you’ll just be able to scoop him up and tuck him in for his nap without any trouble.”
“Au—”
“Must dash, Gunther’s finger isn’t going to reattach itself.” On that note the Transportal door closed.
Well, that consult had gone to hell rather quickly. A record, even for her family and their eccentric ways. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Okay, watching Nico Yanez saunter towards the Portal was no hardship. The man had a way of filling out black jeans that should come with a warning.
“Meeting’s over, and I have a business to run.”
And she didn’t?
“Besides, that kid is your sister’s aunt’s three times removed cousin’s nephew. Which makes him your blood relative and not mine.”
Was Mr Grumpypants cracking a joke? Who knew he had it in him?
“He’s my second cousin. And Aunt Lucy didn’t actually specify which one of us was supposed to scoop up his exhausted personage and tuck him in for his nap.
” Another heavy, ominous thump sounded. What in the blazes was the baby doing up there?
Moving furniture? “I’m thinking if we team up, perhaps we can herd Asher towards the nursery. ”
“Sorry. Too much to do. My butcher is going to weep with joy when I tell him about the meat order I intend to place. He’ll probably be able to put his Great-Grandkids through college thanks to this Valhalla gig.”
“You know the party is six months away, right?”
That news didn’t stop Nico from trying to leave. If anything, the news made him move a little faster. Except despite his best efforts, the Portal door wouldn’t open. “What’s up with this thing? I think it’s jammed.”
“Asher has a tendency to roam.” That was perhaps downplaying his skills. Gigi had seen the complicated locking system her cousin utilised just to keep Asher in his car seat for story time at the library. “I’m betting Lucy put us on lockdown when she left, as a precaution.”
“To keep the baby in, or to ensure we didn’t make a run for it?” Nico’s eyes shifting from a light toffee shade to a darker amber.
“A bit of both, I suspect.” Forcing a smile, because being all dark and gloomy wasn’t going to go far in coaxing her six-month-old second cousin down for his nap.
Mentally, Gigi ran through her options. What did she have that would soothe and calm a baby?
“What are you doing?” Watching perplexed as Nico stalked over to the oven and commandeered two bright tangerine oven mitts.
“The kid is a biter, correct? With a taste for fingers.” Nico held up his now mitt-encased hands.
“He doesn’t bite. He reshapes metal objects into other objects, mainly weapons.”
“And he was able to get the drop on his Grandfather, the demi-god, with centuries of warring under his belt? I think we should rethink our strategy. How about we barricade ourselves in here, find some booze and hunker down until his parents show up?”
Seriously? Was it just her that brought out the worst in this man?
All her cousins, both male and female who had interacted with Nico over the past few years, claimed he was wry, and funny.
Personally, Gigi had kept her distance. For the first year because Darcy had put a moratorium on the newly refurbished Bar, claiming the Yanez brothers were nothing but meld mate catnip candy, lured to the Sanctuary by their matchmaking Great-Aunt Alma.
Despite the ban though, Quinn, friend and cousin, had still managed to meld with Matias Yanez.
Subsequently the ban on the Bar had been lifted.
But other than a few weddings and birthday celebrations that Gigi couldn’t get out of, she hadn’t spent a lot of time there admiring the last remaining available Yanez brother, like so many of her single relatives.
Good luck to them. They could have his tightly sculpted grumpy ass.
Gigi was way too busy ensuring her business was a roaring success and now it seems trying to save the planet from being destroyed by a bunch of power-hungry deities.
Reaching down, Gigi scooped up Canary, placing him on her shoulder. Time to ride bunny buddy.
“You don’t want a weapon of any kind?”
She shot Nico a hard glare. A weapon? Against a six-month-old?
Noting he was now awkwardly carrying a pair of large wooden tongs in his gloved hands.
Wood? Smart idea. They actually might prove useful.
Further pleased to note as she headed out of the kitchen that Nico was bringing up the rear.
As a very last resort she’d use Nico’s body as a shield and throw Canary at Asher.
Hopefully the large floppy ears and big innocent bunny eyes would provide enough of a distraction so that Gigi could disarm him, and get Asher down for his nap.
Keeping all her digits intact whilst doing so.
Goddess. Disarm him. A six-month-old. What was she thinking?
What she needed was a lure. Bait. Come on, think. Six-month-old babies, what did they like? Milk. Sharp deadly edged weapons. And… oh, she was overthinking this, chocolate!
Heading up to the second storey, climbing the stairs, Gigi didn’t even try to hide her approach.
There was no use, not in these high heels and with Nico stomping up behind her.
“Asher?” Her tone was calm, but firm. “It’s Cousin Gigi.
Nana and Pa had to pop out on a quick errand. It’s nap time. Playtime is over.”
A soft scurrying echoed down the wide upstairs foyer. It was impossible to pinpoint the origin of the sound. It could have come from any of the rooms up here. Gigi tamping down on the urge to start flinging open closed doors and leaping into rooms saying ‘a-hah’ until she found the baby.
Nope, she was the one setting the agenda here. Striding down the corridor until she came to a door painted a soft yellow with a white dragon decorating it, a fierce expression on its face as flames roared out its mouth. Ah, the nursery.
Inside the room, more painted dragons flew across three of the walls; all of them varying colours, engaged in a fierce but bloodless aerial battle.
This was a nursery mural after all. No doubt when Asher got a little older her cousin, Frazer, who’d painted it, would be re-engaged to add blood and gore.
The silence up here suddenly was a little chilling.
Luckily, she had Nico’s dark glare of annoyance to keep her focused.
The look he sent her way pretty much translated to I hope you know what the hell you’re doing as he guarded the door.
At least he had her back in this crazy plan.
A lot of men, several local Enforcers included, would have actually barricaded themselves in the kitchen.
“Where the hell did you get freshly baked chocolate chip cookies from?” Nico backed further into the room, probably wanting to confirm what he was smelling.
Gigi couldn’t resist a smug smile. “I’m a professional. I always travel packing treats.” Giving Canary a discreet pat of thanks. There had been nothing wrong with batch number fourteen she’d made five years ago. Except they’d been a little too heavy on the chocolate chips.
“Now what?”
Gigi arranged a cookie on the pillow, turning down the sheet and blanket, before beckoning Nico to take three steps back with her, away from the cot. “We wait.” She whispered.
“You expect a finger-detaching infant to fall for the old choc chip cookie in the cot snare?”
Gigi didn’t have to respond; the sound of approving yummy noises coming from the cot were answer enough.
Crumbs be damned, Asher had gummed that cookie down quick smart.
“There’s plenty more where that one came from, but first you need to lie down.
Right, then, no more cookies for you. Ah, that’s more like it.
Here, Sweetie-Pie.” She handed over another cookie.
And another. Half-way through the third one, Asher’s eyelids closed, and he began breathing heavily.
Okay, the cot was full of crumbs, but also one sleeping baby boy.
Take that Enforcer team, it was Gigi DeWitt and her chocolate treats for the win. Defeating a bunch of power-crazed deity assholes should be child’s play in comparison. Right. Right?