Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga, #2)(70)
Pulling up in front of the bus was a red Ducati and a black Harley. The Harley had fringed saddlebags, lots of bright silver chrome, and an engine that sounded like a roaring ogre. The giant that swung his leg over the saddle as soon as the bike had come to a halt roared almost as loudly.
“Beka!” Alexei Knight bellowed, coming over to pick her up and swing her around as if she were still a four-year-old child. He planted an enthusiastic kiss on each cheek, his beard tickling her chin, and walloped Chewie affectionately on the head. “Chewie old pal, how are t’ings?” His thick Russian accent made Beka think of borscht and potato dumplings.
“Unhand that poor woman, you hairy behemoth,” Gregori Sun said, coming up behind his friend and bowing to Beka with his hands pressed together in front of his heart. “Greetings, Baba Yaga. It is a pleasure to see you again. It has been too long.” His accent was barely discernible as a slightly musical lilt to his speech.
“It has,” Beka agreed with a smile. “The only downside to staying out of trouble is that I don’t get to see my Riders nearly often enough.”
“You have trouble now, though, yes?” Alexei said. “Or you would not have called us.”
Beka let out a huff of air. “Yes, I have trouble now.” She glanced around, looking for a third motorcycle. “Where’s Mikhail? Isn’t he with you?”
Gregori shook his head, his shining black tail of hair swinging against his back. “We finished up with Barbara’s latest crisis a few days ago and each went our own way. Alexei and I met up along the road, but I’m sure Day will be here soon.”
He glanced at her with a critical eye. “In the meanwhile, perhaps you would like to put some clothes on and tell us about this problem you are having.”
Beka blushed, tugging down on her long tee and trying to make it cover a little more of her thighs. The Riders had watched her grow up, and were sort of like slightly odd uncles to her, but still, she would like to have presented a slightly more dignified appearance when they showed up.
“Do not change on my account,” Alexei said with a leer. “I always like a Baba with good legs. There are only so many old crones one can look at in a lifetime as long as mine.”
Gregori smacked him on the back of the head as he walked by, having to reach up to do it. “Come on, you Cossack. You’ll scare the girl, and then she won’t conjure up any of those wonderful melty things for us.” He looked at Baba hopefully. “What do you call those?”
“S’mores,” Chewie said helpfully.
“Yes,” said Alexei. “I would like some more, too, whatever you call them.”
Beka’s load felt lighter already. It was good to have family. Even if they were loud, ate her out of house and home, and spent most of their time arguing with each other. When they weren’t breaking things. Or people. Yup. It was definitely good to have family.
*
A CRESCENT MOON hung over the nearly deserted beach like an enchanted lantern, casting both light and shadow over Kesh as he sat across the blanket from Beka. As usual, he’d brought a veritable feast of delicacies from the sea, as well as the requisite bottle or two of heady champagne. Beka sipped at hers and tried to stop wishing he were someone else. Like maybe a cranky ex-Marine with broad shoulders and a way of kissing that made her tingle just thinking about it. It was hard to believe that only three weeks before, she hadn’t known either one of them. Life had been much simpler then.
Farther down the beach, a boisterous group of college-age kids were drinking beer around a flaming bonfire; the sounds of their laughter and the deep rhythmic beat of their music made for a pleasant backdrop when separated by half a mile of sand and rocks. Other than that, there was only the whooshing of the waves coming in and going out and the occasional bird calling on its way back to its nest for the night.
Their own smaller fire crackled and snapped, sending embers dancing up into the sky like tiny firefly messengers. The smell of the smoke gave a pleasant tang to the sea air, and Beka inhaled deeply, trying to draw the energy of the elements into her core. She was so tired. But it meant so much to Kesh that she be there, she hadn’t had the heart not to show up.
As if echoing her thought, the Selkie prince said, “I am so pleased that you could join me tonight, Baba Yaga. You have been very busy of late.” It almost didn’t sound like scolding. He handed her a plate laden with dainty, perfectly presented bites of food that she had no desire to eat.
“Well, I am trying to save your people’s home, Kesh.” She mustered up a smile to ease the sting of her words. After a moment’s consideration, she confessed, “I should probably tell you that I spoke to your father.”
The darkness made the shadows seem to creep into Kesh’s gray eyes. “Oh?” he said cautiously. “And what did my progenitor have to say?”
“He told me that the children who’d fallen ill hadn’t gotten any better since the Selkies and Merpeople moved to their new temporary grounds,” Beka said, wishing there was some way to soften the blow. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ah,” Kesh said. “That is unfortunate.” A smile flickered over his lips; he was no doubt trying to put up a brave front for her, so she wouldn’t feel worse about it than she already did.
“I’m working as hard as I can, I promise you,” she said. “I’ve got to be close to an answer. I feel as though it is right in front of me, and I just can’t see it.” Frustration made her stomach hurt even more than usual, and she shifted the food around on her dish without eating it.