Liam raised an eyebrow at Baba. She hadn’t mentioned anything about impossible tasks to him. Of course, getting information out of her was something of an impossible task in and of itself. He was still trying to get a straight answer on whether or not there was something between them. Well, clearly there was something. But what, he still didn’t know.
Baba looked around her at the joyful crowd, at Liam restored to his rightful place, and then down at the small child holding resolutely on to her hand. She winked at Belinda and said. “I think between us we’ve managed to achieve even more than three impossible things. I suspect that tradition has been more than satisfied.”
Seeing the Ivanovs and Belinda so happy, and Mary Elizabeth safely home where she belonged, Liam could feel his own face breaking into what was no doubt the first genuine smile he’d let out in days.
Then Ivan said in a calm tone, dropping the words into the conversation like tiny, Russian-accented bombs, “I suppose now that you’ve gotten your daughter back, and all the children have been returned to their parents, you’ll be leaving us.”
And Liam felt the smile slide away, to the place where things go when dreams die.
THIRTY-THREE
THAT EVENING, LIAM and Baba sat together on the couch in the Airstream, careful not to look at each other. Baba stared out the window at the plume of dust that floated through the calm summer air, barely visible in the vanishing red taillights of three motorcycles on their way to somewhere else. She supposed she’d soon be on her way too. For the first time in her long life, that thought lacked its usual appeal. Perhaps because something else appealed to her more.
What the hell was she going to do now?
She stole a glance at Liam. Like her, his eyes followed the sight of the Riders disappearing down the road. Unlike her, he was clearly pleased to see them go. Not that they hadn’t all gotten on well enough, she thought—just too many alpha males in one room for anyone’s comfort. It was like having a cage full of lions . . . and only one steak.
Even Chudo-Yudo had finally said he was going to take a walk and not to expect him back until morning. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to pay a visit to a female German shepherd that lived up the road. She didn’t begrudge him a little fun after the last couple of weeks, and she could easily watch the Water of Life and Death for him. It wasn’t as though she was going anywhere. Yet.
Little Babs had gone home with Mary Elizabeth for the night, because Belinda had suggested quietly to Baba that the best way for the child to adjust back to human life was to spend some time with another little girl. Belinda had an evening of Disney movies and popcorn planned, and Babs had begged to go. She’d never seen a movie either. Baba couldn’t say no.
So now she and Liam were alone together. No Riders. No dragons. No Otherworldly threats to fight or battles to win. Just one ridiculously attractive sheriff with broad shoulders, dimples, and shaggy hair, and her. She could feel her heart beating like a caged bird, its wings fluttering against her ribcage like jungle drums in the night. Fear and desire danced a tango in the pit of her stomach, and she took another sip of wine to try to quiet their tapping feet.
A gentle hand pried the goblet out of her fingers and placed it on the table with a quiet but decisive click, then lifted to stroke her cheek.
“Barbara,” he said. Then corrected himself. “Baba. Don’t be sad.”
Baba blinked, surprised. “I’m not sad,” she said. “What would I be sad about? Everything worked out perfectly.”
Liam raised an eyebrow. “You seem upset. I thought maybe you were sad to see the Riders go. I know they’re old friends.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I love the boys, but they are always a little intense. Not to mention rough on the furnishings. I’m fine with them leaving.”
He slid a little closer, dropping his hand to her shoulder to knead muscles she hadn’t even realized were clenched. She tried to ignore the feelings that rose in her like heat from a summer road, but his nearness made it hard to think.
“If it’s not the Riders, are you worried about trying to raise Babs? I think you’ll be a great mentor.” He turned her slightly so her back was toward him and he could rub both shoulders at once. His breath tickled the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “She’s lucky to have you.”