She laced her fingers through the perspiration-damp hair at his nape and rubbed his scalp. Her tender gesture nearly undid him at that moment, for some strange reason.
“I am not the miracle, Saint,” Christina whispered before she took his head in both of her hands and drew him down to her breast.
He slept more soundly for the next few hours than he ever had in his life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fardusk stood beneath the shade of a maple tree and watched the impromptu baseball game, his stony features never shifting except for once, when he’d bellowed for Aidan to “move, young-un,” after Aidan had stood staring at the high fly-ball he’d just hit off Alison’s pitch.
Aidan had been running fleetly, cheered on by Saint and Christina, by the time the ball hit the roof of the gazebo and rolled down toward a quickly approaching Isi. Aidan traveled around the bases as fast as a long-legged gazelle with a leopard on its heels, but Isi’s rapid, supernaturally precise throw to Alison, who now stood at home plate, beat Aidan by a whisper’s breath.
“You’re out!” Fardusk shouted.
After Kavya had departed earlier, the Iniskium chief had suddenly proclaimed that they would have a game of baseball. Christina suspected he thought Aidan had trained long enough learning about his wolf-self today, and thought the boy deserved a break.
But there was more to Fardusk’s seemingly casual decision, Christina realized as she blinked the dipping sun out of her eyes. Playing on the same team as Saint and Aidan was a fun, relaxing way for them to bond under the unusual circumstances of them learning about Aidan’s parentage. It was as if Fardusk somehow knew that, although Aidan, Christina and Saint often fooled around playing baseball in Whitby’s yard, they were always divided into separate teams.
But not this evening.
Fardusk moved way up in Christina’s estimation. There must have been good reason for him to have been named chief of the Iniskium so many centuries before.
Aidan groaned and kicked at the rubber home plate in frustration at being called out. He gave Saint a sheepish grin when Saint cuffed his head gently, urging him to let go of his anger.
Alison removed Aidan’s mitt and shook her right hand, her mouth hanging open in a wince. Her scowl at Isi when he approached thinly disguised a grin. “You frickin’ made my hand go numb, you spaz.”
Isi’s smile flashed white in his dark face. He flexed his biceps beneath the arms of his short-sleeved T-shirt, pointing at the bulging muscle. “That ripped piece of flesh is why your hand went numb. I’m actually impressed you didn’t drop it, tasty morsel.”
Alison rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not to mention the fact that you’re some kind of paranormal freak. And quit calling me that stupid name.”
Christina glanced at Saint before she walked out into the yard to pitch.
“Isi hasn’t bitten Alison, Stina. Even if he had, the Iniskium are very cautious in the way they take blood. They respect life. Isi’s calling Alison tasty for a much more mundane reason.” Christina blinked when she heard Saint’s dry sarcasm resounding in her brain. Saint had obviously also noticed Isi had switched tiny for tasty in his pet name for Alison.
She threw him a dark glance. When she saw the slight quirk of his handsome mouth, she hid her own smile. She left Saint to do the catching—Alison had complained that Saint’s pitches were too fast to even see, let alone hit—and joined Aidan in the yard.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about the news that the young couple had a thing for each other. Alison was here because of Christina after all. She was responsible for the young woman’s safety until something was done to ensure her security from Teslar. Surely keeping Alison out of trouble didn’t involve her getting mixed up with a wolf-shifter who possessed various supernatural powers?
You’re not only in love with a similar creature, but your son is one as well, she reminded herself as she took her position on their ad-hoc pitcher’s mound. The thought landed like a small blow on her chest. She had to force herself to inhale, slightly unsettled by the new reality of her life.
Besides, Isi was actually ancient, not young, she tried to reassure herself as she studied him while she prepared to pitch to Alison. Although he seemed precisely like a typical, good-looking young man at that moment, strutting around for an attractive female with backyard bravado.
At least, Isi seemed like that when he wasn’t glancing at Alison with a narrow-eyed gaze. It occurred rarely enough, but Christina had observed those dark glances and sensed the accompanying brooding emotions emanating from Isi enough times to know his feelings toward Alison were far from simple.
Come to thi
nk of it, she saw Saint occasionally watching Alison with that precise same expression on his face.
She became distracted by the sight of Alison picking up the bat.
“You got any heat, tasty?” Isi needled the young woman.
Alison returned Isi’s cocky grin in like measure.
“I played on a championship girl’s softball team in high school.” Alison pointed the tip of the bat toward the tall hedge of bushes that lined the east boundary of Whitby. “Right into the lake, wolf-boy.”
Isi raised his dark eyebrows, his smirk letting Alison know he’d believe it when he saw it.
“Hey, Alison!” Aidan yelled from the outfield, running toward the position where he’d just seen her point the bat. “Not in the water, okay? I just got that ball!”