Stars of Fortune (The Guardians Trilogy 1)

“There’s no whining in Tai Chi. Feet slightly apart, knees loose. Breathe from here.” She slapped a hand on Sasha’s aching abs.

“Oh, God.”

“You wanted a unit, Sash. Looks like you’ve got one.”

“It hurts.”

“No pain, no gain,” Riley shot back with merciless cheer. “I’ll go over philosophy later, because I damn well want coffee, too, but for now, breathe in from your center, and do what I do.”

At least the movements were slow, and she had to admire Riley’s fluidity as she tried to mimic them. But that didn’t stop her quads from aching like rotted teeth.

By the time she sat down she could have wept and whimpered for coffee, but she damn well knew where her center was as it quivered from exhaustion and begged for food. Sawyer produced a platter with a golden mountain of pancakes. Where she’d usually have eaten one, she ate three, actually contemplated a fourth before she decided it might make her sick.

Doyle looked across the table at her. “You’re up.”

“I don’t want to be up. Maybe not ever again.”

“I believe he means your clever and creative chart.” Bran gestured to where Annika had propped it on a chair, like another team member.

“Oh. Well. I’ve got me and Bran on cleanup, Riley on Apollo and chickens.”

“Wolf in the henhouse.”

Riley sent Sawyer a sharp, sweet smile. “You’re a barrel of monkeys.”

“Annika and I hit the garden to weed and harvest,” Sasha continued.

“I’m on the pool, Bran’s on the lawn mower. Annika’s on laundry.” Sawyer grinned at the chart. “Leaves Riley and Doyle on the supply run. I think I like the pictures of the bag of groceries and boxes of ammo best.”

“Give me ten for the cluckers, another ten to grab a shower.” Riley downed the rest of her coffee. “Another five to make a call, see where we’ll find the best place for the ammo.”

“The household supply list is on the dresser in my room.”

Nodding at Sasha, Riley pushed away from the table. “Got it. Fifteen tops,” she said and jogged off. How could she jog, Sasha wondered bitterly, to deal with the chickens?

“Might as well grab a swim before I play pool boy.”

Doyle rose as Sawyer did. “Fifteen minutes to add anything to the supply list, otherwise, you get what you get.”

Annika sat a moment after the others left, then looked apologetically at Sasha. “I don’t know how to laundry. Can you teach me?”

“Go ahead.” Bran waved them away. “I’ve got this.”

* * *

By the time she’d finished giving Annika a lesson on separating clothes, water temperatures, cycles, he’d nearly finished the dishes.

So she and her partner for the morning went out to the garden with hoes, rakes, shears, and a plastic tub from the shed.

They worked with Annika happily humming. She could hear the rumble of the lawn mower, the drone of bees, and the swish of the sea at the base of the cliff.

All so normal, Sasha thought, so everyday. Anyone looking at the picture would see a group of people tending to household chores. But they were far more.

She bided her time, noting that Annika caught on quickly to hoeing out the weeds, just as she’d caught on quickly to the basics of doing laundry.

But she’d clearly done neither before.

“So you have six sisters,” Sasha began.