Beka looked at him doubtfully. “Really? What’s that? Some kind of magical remedy?”
Chewie shook his head. “S’mores.” He gave her an unsubtle butt with his large head. “And if you make me some, I’ll help you with your research. I just don’t want to hear anything more about you failing. You only fail if you give up.”
He walked toward the kitchen and Beka followed, but she couldn’t help thinking that maybe giving up was the only way not to fail.
*
“HOW WAS YOUR visit?” Kesh asked. “Did it go the way you had hoped?”
“Of course it did. The poor girl is probably rehearsing her resignation speech for the High Queen as we speak.”
“Good,” he said. “I was quite put out when you sent that shark after her without speaking to me first. And the storm was simply unnecessary. I told you I had the situation under control.”
“If you had it under such good control, I wouldn’t have had to go have my little heart-to-heart with her now, would I? Still, maybe this way neither of us will have to kill her. I suppose that would be best.”
“As long as she does not interfere with my plans,” Kesh said.
“Our plans, you mean.”
“Right. Our plans. That is what I meant to say.”
“Of course you did, sweetie. Of course you did.”
*
“HEY! DO YOU hear that?” Chewie bounded back over to the door.
Beka hoped to hell it wasn’t a singing telegram or a mariachi band sent to serenade her. But unless they’d started traveling on motorcycles, she figured she was probably safe. So she was right on Chewie’s heels as he yanked the door back open with his teeth.
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.