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I cannot go downstairs. I cannot sit at the table across from my parents.
One of the best things about living down the street from your makeshift family was that when you sent out an urgent SOS, they usually came through.
The second Aria texted Molly that her mother was foolishly attempting to conjure pancakes, her favorite aunt came back with an instant invitation for breakfast.
One of the worst things about living down the street from your makeshift family was that they often had the same ideas...
Overly-caffeinated and overwhelmed with a sense of community, it turned out that Molly had cheerfully extended the same invitation to all the other families on the block. When the Wardells stepped off the elevator into the penthouse, they were greeted not by three people but by seven.
“Oh, good.” Aria froze in the entryway, feeling suddenly sick. “Everyone’s here.”
At a glance, it was a happy scene. Music was playing, people were clustered in animated conversations, bacon was sizzling under Julian’s careful supervision on the stove. All in all, it looked like exactly what it was supposed to be: a wholesome family breakfast.
Only a closer look revealed the cracks just underneath.
To start, only the adults were talking. The children had splintered away to sit in isolated silence—nursing secret hangovers, pretending to look at their phones. The lively Irish fiddles in the background were actually painful. The smell of bacon was making them sick. Jason was suspiciously absent and Benji had yet to make an appearance, though his room was just at the end of the hall.
“Morning!” Molly greeted them with her usual enthusiasm, pretending not to notice when Aria winced and visibly recoiled from the shrill sound of her voice. “I hope you guys are hungry! I wanted to call the usual caterers, but Julian convinced me it was too much extravagance for a weekend morning and that it was high time we learned to fend for ourselves.”
A rather ominous prospect, considering the people in the room. Only two of them had the slightest inkling how to cook, and neither was currently in the kitchen.
Devon slowly raised his eyebrows, trying to control his face. “...you and Jules?”
The psychic saluted with a spatula by the stove, whilst Molly nodded with a beaming smile.
Fantastic.
“And on that note...” Molly took Rae by the elbow and pulled her aside, lowering her voice despite the supernatural eavesdroppers. “You really shouldn’t try to conjure food anymore—not with kids in the house. I’d never say anything if it was just us, but at this point it simply isn’t safe.”
Rae nodded automatically, then looked up with a frown. “I wasn’t trying to conjure.”
The two women shared a puzzled glance as Aria speed-walked quickly to the other side of the room. Uncle Luke was placing silverware on the table whilst discreetly typing something into his phone. No doubt it was a message to the caterers after all. He knew his wife very well.
“Where’s Benji?” she asked, perching on the back of the couch.
“Not awake yet.” His blue eyes twinkled with a knowing smile. “You guys must have really overdone it last night with the pizza.”
With the pizza...right.
At that moment, the door opened and Benji stumbled into the hall. He tensed warily at the sounds of food preparation coming from the kitchen, opened the linen cupboard to retrieve the fire extinguisher, then seemed to realize there were more people in his house than usual.
“What the ...?”
He padded shakily down the hallway, lifting a hand to block out the light.
“Morning, sunshine.” Gabriel clapped his shoulders with a grin, recognizing the signs of a hangover when they wandered blindly into the room. “Nice hair.”
Even Aria couldn’t help but smile.
The poor guy was clearly on his last legs. His shirt was on backwards, he was wearing just the one sock, and his hair looked like a bird had been nesting. He took one look at the sunlight pouring through the windows and decided to skip the gathering altogether and go back to bed. There was a chance he would have done it if he hadn’t spotted something he wanted even more.
“Aunt Rae...?”
She blurred to his side with a maternal smile, unwilling to allow the suffering to continue a second longer than it must. Before he could even ask the question she placed both hands on his cheeks and planted a kiss on his forehead, healing the vicious hangover at the same time.
“Thank you.” He tilted back his head in relief, suddenly ravenous for the bacon wafting in from the kitchen. “Seriously...you have no idea.”
She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head with a chiding smile. “I have a better idea than you might think.” Her own daughter had made the same pleading request earlier that morning. “You need to pace yourself, Benny. It’s a marathon, not a race.”
Luke looked up incredulously from the table.
“Or you could always discourage this,” he said accusingly, unable to hold back a grin. “You could always refuse to heal them, let them learn from their mistakes.”
Benji leaned down, whispering loudly in her ear. “Don’t listen to him. The man’s a monster.”
At any rate, his father was too late. Rae had already healed Lily as well—though the girl hardly looked recovered. She was sitting on a cushion by the window, staring out with a rather mournful expression. Aria extracted herself from the conversation and settled down beside her.
“You look like crap, Decker. Didn’t my mom work her magic?”
The psychic opened her mouth with a scathing reply, then sighed and looked out the window instead. Aria instantly softened, scooting closer on the cushion.
“What’s wrong—tell me.”
Lily sighed again, glancing miserably down at her phone. “...that picture you sent wasn’t the worst text message Henry got last night.”
Oh...crap.
Aria bit her lip, bracing for the worst. She’d been in similar situations before. She was sure they could handle it. Even if it was Lily. Even if it was the crown prince.
“All right—lay it on me. And don’t hold back,” she advised. “I need to know the worst of it before devising a strategy to minimize the damage.”
Lily bowed her head, spilling ivory hair on either side of her face. “I said...” She shuddered and took a deep breath. “I said...I’d been thinking about him.”
Aria stared without blinking, waiting for the rest. When nothing happened, she tried to fill in the blanks herself. “...naked?”
“Ew—no, Arie. Come on.”
A wave of confusion crashed over her, paired with the instinctual urge to laugh.
“I’m just trying to...that’s all you said?” she asked in disbelief, trying to understand the look of utter misery on the girl’s face. “That you’d been thinking about him?”
Lily dropped her head into her hands. “I also sent him a picture of the licorice.”
There was a beat of silence. Aria pursed her lips.
“We’ll leave it to the palace code breakers to decipher that...”
Fortunately, at that moment—
“Breakfast is ready!”
...thank the maker.
Aria gave Lily’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then helped her up as the two of them headed over to the table. Halfway there the psychic glanced suddenly at their parents, then pulled her closer to whisper in her ear.
“What about you? Did you get in a lot of trouble for last night?”
Aria flashed a quick grin, trying to avoid confronting the memory head-on.
“Are you kidding?” she deflected. “My mom’s just thrilled to be dealing with normal teenage problems for once. Drinking and boys.”
My dad...is a different story.
“Help yourselves!” Molly announced grandly, gesturing to the steaming dishes she and Julian had just laid on the table. “I’m sure it’ll taste better hot.”
The rest of them stared in fearful silence before remembering they were supposed to speak.
“Looks great!”
“Thanks for making it!”
“What a treat!”
“Glad we showed up!”
Angel took a single look and stepped purposely towards the door, scowling when her brother caught her by the collar and dragged her back. Other than that the rest of them accepted their fate in silence, perching on the edge of their chairs and praying the caterers turned up fast.
“So where did you guys go yesterday?” Benji asked curiously, looking at any of the adults to clue him in. “I didn’t even get a chance to ask.”
“...because you were blacked out on the coffee table,” Luke muttered under his breath.
Devon shrugged with a mysterious smile. “Official Privy Council business. Nothing that concerns the likes of you.”
Benji stabbed at a sausage, startling slightly when his fork bounced off. “Uncle Dev, when are you going to understand that all your top secret spy stuff concerns me? I’m an integral part of the system. I have a right to know.”
Rae cast a secret look at their hostess. “I wonder where he gets that confidence...”
Julian flashed a grin, but Molly was in a world all her own. She watched with rapt attention as Gabriel lifted a forkful to his mouth before grabbing his arm in delight.
“How is it?” she demanded with a beaming smile. “How are the eggs?”
Only three decades of training enabled him to swallow.
“Very...textured.”
The others were in a similar state—pretending to eat, while taking great care not to eat at the same time. Nonetheless, the room was in fine spirits. Now that the hangovers had been cured, the lively music had a welcome effect. A box of wafers was opened in secret and passed discreetly under the table. Things were actually starting to sync into their normal rhythm when the elevator dinged once again and a familiar face stepped through the door.
“Jason!”
He froze in surprise as the table let out a chorus of welcome. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting anyone. Odds were, he’s been hoping to commiserate with Benji whilst avoiding his father at the same time. The last thing he wanted was to find them all seated around the same table. Much less with plates of food that looked suspiciously home-cooked.
“Uh...hey.” He lifted his hand in an awkward wave, taking great care to avoid certain people’s eyes. “I was just looking for Ben. Didn’t know everyone was going to be here...”
Natasha lifted her head with a bright smile, pulling out an empty chair. She alone was immune to the culinary catastrophes of others—blame it on her time spent in Brooklyn.
“Your dad and I didn’t want to wake you this morning, but we left a note.” She patted the chair beside her. “Waffles?”
Okay, she clearly doesn’t know...
Aria’s eyes flashed swiftly around the table, wondering who had been made privy to their late-night indiscretion and who had not. It was difficult to say. They might have been a tight-knit group, but a table of covert intelligence agents was notoriously hard to read.
She figured there was no way Uncle Julian didn’t know. The man saw things happening whether he wanted to or not. That being said, he was a pillar of discretion and would never breathe a word...unless a little peace-making was required.
There were never assigned seats at these sorts of gatherings, but the line-up on the other side of the table seemed a little too deliberate not to be planned.
Gabriel was on one side. Devon was on the other.
Julian was sitting carefully in between them.
Late last night (and against his wife’s strong advisement), Devon had walked across the street to the Aldens’ house. It was impossible to know what had passed between him and Gabriel but, judging by their body-language, the two men had been unable to come to terms.
Gabriel was trying hard not to smile. Devon looked as though someone had set him on fire.
“Come on—sit down,” Natasha urged, not understanding her son’s hesitation. “Your aunt and uncle made breakfast, it’s going to get cold.”
Hardly an incentive.
Jason stood there for another moment, looking absolutely stricken, then seemed to decide simply jumping down the elevator shaft wasn’t the most graceful exit and he’d have to stay. With a carefully concealed sigh he swept towards them, avoiding the ‘danger side’ of the table altogether and settling himself carefully between his mother and his friends.
“Dude, you look like crap,” Benji said cheerfully. “You should get Aunt Rae to heal you.”
It was a testament to how far things had fallen, that Jason took one look at his beloved aunt and decided to tough it out instead.
“No, it’s cool.” He flashed a tight smile, prodding the edges of the plate his mother set in front of him. The waffles smoked, then emitted a frighteningly lifelike hiss. “So, how was this allowed to happen? I thought your mom had been officially banned by the home owner’s association...”
Aria stared at him with great trepidation, then lowered her eyes quickly to her plate. The two hadn’t spoken since the previous night. For hours she’d lain awake, staring at her phone just in case he texted, but there was nothing. He hadn’t so much as looked at her since he’d stepped inside.
Her eyes tightened suddenly as she glanced up again.
Wait...he hasn’t even looked at me?
At a glance, the reason was obvious. Her father.
Devon was sitting just a few feet away, and while Julian had discreetly removed anything that might possibly be used as a weapon, leaving him only a miniature spoon to stir sugar into his tea, the children had read enough of his case files to know he’d done more with less.
That being said, Devon seemed just as determined to ignore Jason as Jason was determined to ignore her. No, there was something more than fear or even caution. After thinking it over a few moments, she had a sneaking suspicion what it might be.
...you’re angry with me?
Jason startled slightly when her voice rang out in his head, but he still didn’t make eye-contact. He did, however, stab a biscuit with a little more strength than was required.
She grimaced apologetically, remembering her escape into the closet.
...because I turned invisible?
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as Benji continued chattering away obliviously.
In hindsight, he might have had a point. Invisibility was a luxury that wasn’t available to everyone, and as if that wasn’t enough she’d literally left him standing by the bed.
But he was forgetting one very important detail.
...at least your dad didn’t walk in on YOU half-naked.
He considered this for a lengthy moment, then he turned abruptly and offered her a piece of toast. She accepted it with a grin as their eyes met across the table.
No one else was watching. They were lost in their own world.
“...really don’t understand what happened,” Molly was saying in despair, peering down at the tiny bog in front of her. “It said to use no more than a teaspoon of salt, but I know those things are more like guidelines...”
I had a lot of fun last night.
His eyes twinkled as he held her gaze.
Enough fun that I might be willing to try it again sometime. You know, if you’re amenable.
One shoulder lifted ever so slightly as he glanced down at his plate.
Oh I get it—you’ll have to be wooed?
He bit his lip, trying to hold back a smile.
Well maybe if I—
“No powers at the table.”
Their heads snapped up to see Devon watching a few chairs down. The others turned to him curiously as well. An awkward silence fell over the table, and judging by the secret flinch Aria could have sworn Julian kicked him. A second later, he shrugged and returned to his meal.
“It’s a family rule.”
Uh-huh.
Rae was glaring daggers. There was another flinch as she launched a telepathic attack of her own. Jason paled the color of bleach bone, wishing he’d leapt down the elevator shaft after all, as Lily and Benji looked curiously between them, waiting to get clued in. Only Gabriel was staring calmly out the window, eyes twinkling every time he raised a cup of coffee to his lips.
Fortunately, one person remained predictably oblivious to the tension.
“So I overheard something in the faculty lounge the other day,” James said conversationally, smearing his toast with a generous helping of jam. “Professor Fernsby was talking to that janitor with the glass eye—and he said the lower levels of the Oratory were haunted. Cause of the fire.”
He stared around impressively, waiting for some kind of response. All he got was a table of blank faces, followed by his sister’s accusatory, “What were you doing in the faculty lounge?”
“Absolutely none of your business,” he said stiffly, lifting his chin. “So how about it? I mean, the place has seen its fair share of death. If ever a place was going to be haunted...”
This time, the table broke with a spattering of laughter. James might have grown up the baby of the family, but he’d somehow managed to collect more neuroses than all the others combined.
“That’s a brilliant question,” Benji said indulgently. “One that requires a great deal of scientific study, but I see no reason why we can’t simply answer it now. Uncle Gabriel,” he turned expectantly to the person at the end of the table, as if his opinion would settle the matter once and for all, “do you believe in ghosts?”
Before Gabriel could answer, Natasha threw back her head with a tinkling laugh.
“Gabriel spent the first half of his life killing people, then going back to sleep underneath a church. He’d better hope there’re no such things as ghosts.”
The assassin turned to her with a rather chilling expression.
“...too soon?”
“What about you?” Aria said curiously, forgetting for a moment that she and her father were on thin ice. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
Devon shrugged, forgetting the same thing. “I would if Julian told me to.”
The psychic shook his head.
“Then I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Aria flashed a reconciliatory grin as the breakfast continued once more. The tense moment in the middle was all but forgotten as the table splintered off into a series of odd conversations. A few minutes later, the caterers came to the rescue and the old plates were replaced with something new. Things had finally started winding down when James picked up his chair and plopped it right beside Gabriel. The kid was never finished asking questions. And something was on his mind...
“That’s not the only thing I overheard in the faculty lounge,” he whispered conspiratorially.
As half a dozen conversations carried on around them Aria switched into her fox tatù to eavesdrop, watching as Gabriel turned to his nephew with an indulgent smile.
“Let’s hear it.”
James pulled in a deep breath, his blue eyes seeming to taking up half his face. “That mission in Bulgaria—”
“True.”
“That time with the spider—”
“True.”
“The Horshescky scandal—”
“They weren’t identical...but true.”
There was a slight pause.
“...did you used to like my mom?”
Gabriel pulled back in surprise as the real question suddenly came to light. It took quite a bit to throw him off course, but that had clearly done the trick. A sudden lull came over the table as he lifted his eyes, only to find Rae staring right back. The two exchanged a secret smile—the kind of smile that said there was a lot more to the story that the children would never know.
Gabriel’s eyes were still twinkling when he turned back to James. “Yeah...I used to like your mom.”
Devon dropped his head into his hands. “And the greater London area barely survived it.”
“I never liked your mom,” Julian declared, sweeping in for a rescue. “I still don’t like her. Now let’s get these dishes cleared and grab your things. You kids are going to be late.”
“Late?” Benji repeated blankly. “For what?”
Luke pushed back his chair, lifting his son by the back of the shirt and shoving some empty plates into his hands. “You’re going to school.”
School?
Aria’s heart quickened in surprise as she shared a quick look with the others. While they knew they couldn’t stay at home indefinitely, it was kind of assumed that they’d be the ones to say when they were ready to go back. They had witnessed a violent murder, after all. Not long after being accused of committing another themselves. Didn’t that warrant a little down-time?
Aria opened her mouth with a thousand reasons why they shouldn’t go before remembering they were at a family breakfast, and picking the least offensive one. “But it’s a Saturday.”
Her mother twitched her fingers and she found herself floating right out of her chair. It slid back to the table before she could catch it, then a conjured messenger bag appeared in her hands.
“Trust me...you’ll want to go.”
No powers at the table.
