Chapter Seventeen

Sarah

B right. Everything was so bright.

Groaning unhappily, I rolled over, yanking the covers with me in passive-aggressive anger at the sheer arrogance of the world in waking me up before I was good and rested. Why couldn't the sun understand I needed a minimum of sixty straight hours of sleep every night?

It was just plain rude of the giant ball of fire to run on such a precise twenty-four-hour cycle, day after day after day.

Give me some of that energy! Maybe then I could easily handle a four-year-old every morning.

A smile tugged at the muscles of my mouth. The caffeine-less response would have looked more like a drooling droopy-face to anyone else. But I knew what it meant.

Yanking down the covers, I got up, knowing I likely had minutes to consume coffee in peaceful solitude. Then the other ball of energy, the one that was much smaller and not two billion years old, would come soaring into the roam, demanding we start the day.

Wrapping myself up in a giant robe, courtesy of Levi, I shuffled out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen, blinking sleep out of my eye. Why was I so exhausted? The sun was up and glowing, the day was in full swing, and—

A jolt went up my spine as I stopped in my tracks. The day was in full swing?

The day was in full swing!

"Jakub?" I called, swinging around as I came to full alertness, instinct, training, and motherhood all kicking in at once to provide far more energy than coffee ever could.

There was no sign of him. My ears were returning silence as well. He wasn't in the condo, or if he was, he was being quiet. Too quiet to not be up to no good. Silence is a mother's best—and worst—friend.

Where the hell was he?

For that matter, where was Levi? A double-edged question, for sure.

I padded down the hallway to Jakub's room. He wasn't there. But the bed was made. Very, very unusual for him. My suspicion grew, but my worry calmed. It had the signs of being a two-person operation. That worry skyrocketed right back up as I truly thought about the only option for the second person.

After the condo was searched, I made my way to the stairs to the roof.

As my hand reached for the door, I heard the muffled sounds of laughter, followed by clapping and unintelligible words. But I would recognize my son's laughter anywhere.

Cautiously, moving very slowly, I opened the door and slipped outside, closing it as softly as I could behind me. The door itself stood in a depression on one corner of the flat roof, with the stairs then leading up to the top.

I stayed there for a moment, doing little more than listening. Whatever was going on up there, nobody sounded in danger. In fact, judging from the deep, rumbling laughter like that of a landslide, combined with the higher-pitched giggling, it seemed both parties were having a good time.

Creeping up one stair at a time, until I could just peer over the lip, I watched, hidden, as Levi crouched in front of Levi, one hand held up at my son's chest height.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Jakub nodded exuberantly, his hands at his shoulders, ready.

"Okay …. Go! "

Levi snapped his fingers, and a flame appeared from his palm. Jakub's hands rushed together, trying to grab it.

But he was too slow. I gasped as the flame darted up and then to the side, curling around Levi's wrist and then back up into his palm. The entire time, Jakub was trying to grab it, to clap both hands overtop it and trap the flame.

"Too slow!" Levi teased, waving his index finger back and forth. As he did, the flame leaped up next to him and moved back and forth as well.

Jakub's left hand darted out and wrapped itself around the flame. I stifled another gasp, worried he would be burned, but when he crowed victory and opened his hand, the flame was gone!

"Good job, you got it!" Levi said.

"I want to do it now."

"Maybe one day," Levi said with all the solemnity the demand required. "But for now, it's time to fly!"

He snatched my son up and hurled him into the air.

I had to bite back on my instinct to scream and ask him what the hell he was doing. With his strength, Jakub soared five, ten feet above Levi's head, kicking and screaming in delight the entire time.

Levi caught him effortlessly, chortling loudly as he tickled under the arms of the squirming four-year-old before suddenly flicking him high into the air once more.

"Again, again!" Jakub shouted.

"Okay, but remember, you asked for it! " Levi chuckled and sent Jakub screaming upward at impossible velocity.

I reached out a hand to stop him, but something stayed the action. Instantly, I began to question that decision as I saw the heights to which my only son reached. My firstborn. The most important thing to me in the world. Watching him go up and up and up , I feared for his safety and well-being with every fiber of my body.

Then I saw it, the thing that made me refrain from stopping them. It wasn't the absolute trust in Levi. That was a childish naivety, something all children did innately. No, it wasn't Jakub that drew my eye. It was Levi.

His body language looked casual. Like he wasn't aware of just how high Jakub was or how close to the ledge they were. Yet his eyes tracked my son with near feverish intensity.

No, not my son, in this case. His son.

Jakub was still in the dark for now, but Levi wasn't. And the more I studied him as he tossed Jakub around, the more I saw the care he put into what he was actually doing.

I sat back into the stairs, watching their interaction closely, trying to decipher my internal feelings on the matter.

"Again!" Jakub clapped as he came down, giggling with his full belly.

And just like that, off he went, sailing way above anyone's reach, screaming his delight.

My stomach churned. Why was I so uncomfortable watching that bonding moment? It was what I wanted between the two of them, what I'd always dreamed of in my deepest, most secretive of fantasies. Wasn't it? So, now that it was coming true, why was I so uncomfortable?

A spike of something hot buried itself in my belly. My eyes went wide, and I sank deeper into the shelter of the stairwell as I realized what it was.

Jealousy.

For almost five years, Jakub had been my son. My world. I'd raised him. Countless sleepless nights, tantrums, and horrible days. But I'd been there, been through it.

Levi hadn't, and now, there he was, swooping in, partaking in all the fun.

Glancing up at the sun, noting its height, I stifled a yawn, reminded of just how late I'd slept in.

Then again, having someone else around to help might not be all that bad? More mornings like this would be quite welcome. I haven't slept in like this since …

I couldn't remember.

My gaze returned to the pair just in time to see Levi call a trio of fist-sized fireballs into existence in front of him. One by one, he sent them into the air, juggling them from side to side as Jakub clapped.

Then a fourth ball appeared. And a fifth. They began to whirl so fast it formed a ring of fire.

Levi reared back and abruptly belched fire from his mouth, a stream of orange-yellow flame that burst through the middle. It shot over Jakub's head before he could react, then looped up into the sky and raced back for the swirling circle. As it did, it morphed, taking the shape of a stooping hawk, claws outstretched.

The spinning ring of fire abruptly collapsed in on itself and exploded outward in a giant dragon maw that swallowed up the attacking bird with ease, much to Jakub's screaming delight. Even I watched in awe at the control he exerted over the fire. I'd never seen or heard of anything like it. Could all dragons do such a thing?

I must have crept too far forward because Levi's eyes darted over Jakub's head, focusing on me suddenly. A flash of unease crossed his face, and hesitation slowed his motions.

He expected me to put a stop to their fun. For a long moment, I considered doing just that.

Then, I took that feeling, crumpled it up into a tiny ball, and squashed it under my mental foot. Whatever I was feeling, Jakub was having fun. Not only that, he was learning about the other side of his heritage. A side he'd not known about for the first years of his live. Now, at five, he was finally getting to experience it.

Smiling, I shook my head at Levi, motioning with my chin for him to continue. A brief wave of relief flashed over his head.

The fire dancing returned, and Jakub was once more engaged. He hurried all over the roof as fire sprang up like fountains, trying to grab it all before it disappeared.

At one point, he noticed me.

"Mommy!" he shouted, the fire forgotten as he charged across the roof, arms outstretched.

"Hey, little buddy," I said, scooping him up onto my hip as grubby little hands clung to my neck.

"Mommy, Mommy, did you see? I was so high!"

"I did see, baby. You went way, way up! So far up!"

"Yeah, I went up! Into the sky! Vrooom!"

I laughed. His enthusiasm at experiencing the world was one of the things I loved the most. Seeing him do new things and always enjoying it. He just loved to explore, to learn . I tried my hardest to foster that sense of awe. Mostly it worked. Kids, right?

"Your hands are gross, man!"

"No bacon for you if you don't wash up, little dude," Levi said as he came over, flashing me a smile.

My stomach growled. "Bacon?" I asked just a little greedily.

"Heaps of it, coming right up," Levi promised just as Jakub squirmed out of my grip to run down the stairs.

"He's going to need help," I said, moving to go after my son. "He can't reach."

A hand on my shoulder stilled me. "Yes, he can."

I frowned. "I've seen your sinks. He's too short. I don't want him climbing up onto the counter. He'll break something."

"He won't," Levi said.

"Yes, he will. You don't know four-year-olds. I do."

Levi sighed. "I wish you'd trust me."

"And I wish you would trust me !" I snapped just a bit hotly, some of my jealousy sneaking out. "He's my son. I know him far better than you do."

"No shit," Levi said. "But you don't know that the first thing he and I did this morning was build a stepstool for him after he couldn't brush his teeth."

I stared, my jaw dropping slightly. "What?"

"Kids gotta brush their teeth, right? Well, I tried to get him to, but then I discovered his, ahem, shortcomings. So, we went to work and built him a stepstool so he can reach. He'll use that."

"You … you built him a stepstool? Just like that, this morning?"

"You were asleep. I didn't know what to do." Levi looked a little uncomfortable. "Is that okay? I thought it would be a good way for him to build stuff and make sure he could brush his teeth and wash his hands. Did I screw up? I didn't let him use any real tools. Just a screwdriver."

"No," I said, reaching out to pat him on the upper chest. "No, you did fine, Levi. More than fine, actually. That was very … very …"

The words "fatherlike of you" wouldn't quite come out.

"Thank you," I said softly instead, looking up and meeting his eyes.

It was a mistake.