He saw, with a child's eyes, and a child's wonder.

A pretty face, Rose's face, leaning over the crib. A smile, soft words, soft hands. Great love. Then another, a man's face, young, simple. Hesitant fingers, rough and callused. Here, too, was love. Slightly different from the mother love, but just as deep. This was tinted with a kind of dazed awe. And… Sebastian's lips curved. And a wish to play catch in a nice backyard.

The images slid, one into the other. Fussy crying at night. Formless fears, soon soothed by strong, caring hands. Nagging hungers sated by warm mother's milk from a willing breast. And pleasures, such delight in colors, in sounds, in the warmth of sunlight.

Health, robust health, in a body straining to grow as a babe's did in that first dazzling year of life.

Then heat, and a surprising, baffling pain. Aching, throbbing in the gums. The comfort of being walked, rocked, sung to.

And another face, soft with a different kind of love. Mary Ellen, making the yellow bear dance in front of his eyes. Laughing, her hands tender and hesitant as she gathered him up, holding him high in the air and pressing tickling kisses to his belly.

From her, a longing, too unformed in her own mind to be seen clearly. All emotion and confusion.

What is it you want? Sebastian wanted to ask her. What is it you're afraid you can't have?

Then she faded away from him like a chalk portrait washed away in a shower of rain.

Sleeping. Dreaming easy dreams, with a slash of sunlight just beyond your fisted hand and the shade cool and soft as a kiss. Peace, utter peace.

When it was broken, there was sleepy irritation. Small, healthy lungs filled to cry, but the sound was cut off by a hand. Unfamiliar hands, unfamiliar smell, and then irritation turned to fear. The face—There was only a glimpse, and Sebastian struggled to freeze that image in his mind for later.

Being carried, held too tightly, and bundled in a car. The car smells of old food and spilled coffee and the sweat of the man.

Sebastian saw it, felt it, as one image stuttered into the next. He lost whole patches as the child's terror and tears exhausted him into sleep.

But he saw. And he knew where to begin.

Morgana opened the shop promptly at ten. Luna, her big white cat, slinked in between her feet, then settled down in the center of the room to groom her tail. Knowing the summer trade, Morgana went directly behind the counter to check the cash register. Her belly bumped gently against the glass, and she chuckled.

She was getting as big as a house. And she loved it. Loved the full, weighted sensation of carrying life. The life she and Nash had created between them.

She remembered how just that morning her husband had pressed kisses to that growing mound, then jerked back, eyes wide, as whoever was sleeping inside kicked.

"Jeez, Morgana, a foot." He'd cupped a hand over the lump, grinning. "I can practically count the toes."

As long as there's five to each foot, she thought now, and she was smiling when her door jingled open.

"Sebastian." Fresh pleasure filled her face as she held out both arms to him. "You're back."

"A couple of days ago." He took her hands, kissed them soundly, then drew back, wiggling his brows as he studied her. "My, my, aren't we huge!"

"Aren't we just?" She patted her belly as she skirted around the counter toward him.

Pregnancy hadn't dimmed her sexuality. If anything, it had enhanced it. She—as they say about brides and expectant mothers—glowed. Her fall of black, curling hair rained down the back of an unapologetically red dress that showed off excellent legs.

"I don't have to ask if you're well," he commented. "I can see that for myself."

"Then I'll ask you. I've already heard you helped clean up Chicago." She said it with a smile, but there was quiet concern in her eyes. "Was it difficult?"

"Yes. But it's done." Before he could say more, before he was certain he wanted to, a trio of customers strolled in to explore the crystals and herbs and statuary. "You're not working here alone?"

"No, Mindy will be here any minute."

"Mindy is here," her assistant announced, bounding into the shop wearing a white catsuit and a flirtatious smile for Sebastian. "Hello, handsome."

"Hi, gorgeous."

Instead of heading out of the shop, or ducking into the back room as was his habit when customers filed in, Sebastian prowled around, fiddling restlessly with crystals, sniffing at candles. Morgana took advantage of the first lull to join him again.

"Looking for some magic?"

He frowned, a smooth, obsidian ball in his hand. "I don't need visual aids."

Morgana tucked her tongue in her cheek. "Having trouble with another spell, darling?"

Though he was very taken with it, Sebastian set the ball down. He'd be damned if he'd give her the satisfaction. "I leave the casting to you."

"Oh, if only you would." She picked up the ball and handed it to him. Morgan knew her cousin too well. "Here, a gift. There's nothing like obsidian for blocking out those bad vibrations."

He let the globe run from palm to fingertips and back. "I suppose, being a shop owner, you'd be up on who's who in town at the moment."

"More or less. Why?"

"What do you know about Sutherland Investigations?"

"Sutherland?" Her brow creased in thought. "It's familiar. What is it, a detective agency?"

"Apparently."

"I think I… Mindy, didn't your boyfriend have some business with Sutherland Investigations?''

Mindy barely glanced up from ringing a sale. "Which boyfriend?"

"The intellectual-looking one, with the hair. Insurance."

"Oh, you mean Gary." Mindy beamed at her customer. "I hope you enjoy it. Please come back. Gary's an ex-boyfriend," she added. "Much too possessive. Sutherland does a lot of stuff for the insurance company he works for. Gary says she's as good as they get."

"She?" Morgana glanced back at Sebastian with a cool smile. "Ah."

"There's no 'ah.'" He tweaked her nose. "I've agreed to help someone, and Sutherland is involved."

"Hmm. Is she pretty?"

"No," he said with perfect sincerity.

"Ugly, then."

"No. She's… unusual."