by Grey, Aspen
It was faint but it was there.
I glanced down at my mates as they lay peacefully on the bed, and for a moment I thought I wouldn’t wake them—I’d just go downstairs and handle the bastard once and for all—but then I realized that if somehow, something happened to me, they’d be completely off guard if the killer managed to make his way upstairs. So I woke them.
“Sasha!” I hissed. “Jace!”
Sasha stirred but Jace woke and moved quickly into a seated position.
“What is it?” he asked, but then his nose twitched and his eyes lit up with fear. “The killer!”
“Sasha!” I repeated, finally stirring the sleepy omega from whatever dreams he was having.
“Huh?” he muttered, but then he too smelled the horrible scent and immediately leapt to his feet and put his back to a wall. They were both on the verge of shifting, but I signaled to them to remain calm.
“Take my phone and dial Chief Marques,” I told them. “Tell him to get his ass over here now. Tell him we’ve got the killer here and I’m going to do what I can to subdue him.”
“Don’t go out there, Arnold!” Sasha squealed.
“I’m going to do my best to avoid a confrontation,” I told him. “But I’ve been after this guy and I’m not going to let him get away.”
I looked to Jace who already had my phone and was dialing.
“You two don’t come outside, you hear me? No matter what you hear.”
“But what if—”
“No matter what, Sasha!” I growled angrily, hoping to scare him enough to make sure he listened. I could make it up to him later, but if they got themselves hurt, I’d never be able to fix that—or forgive myself.
“Yes, Chief Marques, please,” Jace said as I exited the bedroom. I took the stairs two at a time to the ground floor. The lights were off, and I kept to the shadows, avoiding the moonlight beams bathing the kitchen floor in a silver glow. It was difficult to pinpoint the direction of the scent from inside. There was only one way to find out.
I moved to the front door and peered through the peephole. It looked clear, so I unlocked the deadbolt, slowly pulled it open and stepped out into the night.
The scent was stronger, and came from around the side of the house by the cul-de-sac. It didn’t appear that there were any neighbors outside, but I remained in human form as I stalked around the side yard towards the smell. I was the only shifter in the neighborhood. If I could avoid taking panther form I would, but it was difficult with my fangs already extended and my instincts heightened as I readied myself for a potential battle.
Then, as I rounded the corner, I saw him.
The killer, already shifted, stood at the center of the cul-de-sac, his tattered, speckled coat still hideous beneath the moonlight as he sniffed the air, obviously still tracking Sasha’s scent. An anger rose within me as I debated what to do.
He hadn’t picked up on my presence yet, which meant he was open to a surprise attack, but he was out in the open with a good deal of ground between us. He’d see me coming from any angle, which would give him time to prepare himself.
Wait for the chief. Jace got him on the phone and he’ll be here soon. You can both take him, subdue him and it will all be over.
That was what I was going to do, but then something happened that made my decision impossible.
The killer sniffed the air and his head whipped to the French doors of my bedroom that led out onto the small balcony overlooking the backyard. I knew what he was about to do, and I shifted immediately and ran towards him, but before I reached him, he leapt forward with tremendous speed.
His paws found the top of the backyard fence and he vaulted high into the air, easily landing on the balcony. I heard Jace shout from inside, followed by glass shattering.
No! My angels!
I sprang forward and vaulted over the fence in one bound. I heard another cry from inside as I hurled myself onto the veranda and then sprang onto the balcony. A piece of glass tore my paw as I landed, but I blocked out the pain as I leapt through the shattered door and into the bedroom.
Sasha had yet to shift, and the killer had his leg between his teeth. Blood was pouring out onto the carpet. I dove straight at the bastard and sank my teeth into his back. He cried out in pain and whirled around, trying to throw me off. But my grip was too strong. Every bit of my anger and tenacity flowed through my jaws as I clamped down with an inescapable grip.
Sasha cried out in pain and pushed himself away from the killer, who thrashed his jaws back and forth, snapping wildly for anything he could get his teeth into. I braced my feet against the floor and tugged backwards, pulling the killer back and away from my mate. With this grip, I could hold him until the chief arrived, but Jace had other plans.
He was already shifted, and leapt over me and sank his teeth into the killer’s neck and tore. Flesh peeled away and blood fountained out onto the floor. I felt the muscles in his body tense as he began to shake. He squealed and I looked up at Jace as he stepped back, blood dripping from his mouth.
“Arnold,” Sasha said from the doorway where he was lying, clutching his ankle as blood continued to fountain out. “Help…”
And as the killer died in my jaws, I watched as Sasha’s eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed backwards. I shifted back to human form as the sound of an engine roared up outside.
“Sasha!” I cried out, snatching a t-shirt from the floor of my closet. I raced to his side as Jace shifted beside me. “Put pressure on it!”
“Okay!”
Jace clamped down on the wound as I tore the t-shirt into shreds.
“Irons!?” It was Chief Marques from downstairs. I’d left the front door unlocked.
“Up here!” I shouted as I began wrapping my mate’s ankle, tying my makeshift bandage as tightly as possible. “Stay with me, Sasha. Stay with me!”
Chapter Thirty
Jace
Four Months later…
It was amazing how quickly shifters went through their pregnancies compared to humans. If I was “normal,” I’d have another five months to get to the point that I was at now, with a nice big baby bump and a chest ready to provide for my son that was on the way.
Yes, it was going to be a son. I’d just finished what had to be the world’s strangest ultrasound, given to me by a strange hippie doctor named Wendell in Pacific Beach who ran a small clinic for shifters out of his apartment. Sasha was doing his now.
“So, what are you hoping for?” Wendell asked him as he lubed up his bump and prepared the wand. “Boy or girl?”
“I’d like another boy,” Sasha admitted, squeezing Arnold’s hand who sat beside him on a small stool. “So they can do boy things together.”
I smiled as I wiped off the ultrasound residue with a wet paper towel. When I looked back at my two mates, seated beside the doctor, who looked like someone who belonged on Pacific Beach selling the countless necklaces and bracelets that adorned his body, I was filled with a warm sensation of love that had been steadily growing over the last four months since the attack at the house.
Chief Marques had arrived just in time to help us get Sasha’s bleeding under control and get him to the hospital—the same one we’d taken him to before to get his shoulder looked at. It pained me to see him lying there again on a gurney, but once he was fully patched up, one of the nurses who had been there the last time we brought him in, cracked a joke to lighten the mood.
“You know, the three of you better start donating blood to keep up with how much we have to keep putting back into him!”
We all laughed at that one, but I think we were really just more relieved that he was alive than anything. It had been a trying night to say the least, but Sasha was breathing and together, we’d put the killer away for good.
I knew that Arnold had wanted to catch him and bring him in, but when I saw what he’d done to Sasha, all of my old instincts kicked in. All I could think about was that dickhead in the Lamborghini, the countless
other assholes who’d tried to take advantage of him while we were working the streets and I did what I do best; I protected Sasha.
Of course, it was Arnold’s job to protect us both now, and he’d done the heavy lifting. I wouldn’t have been able to do what I’d done if not for him. We were all a little annoyed that we’d never know what the bastard’s motivation had been for stalking the street boys, but there was a rumor going around San Diego now that he’d been a working boy once himself and his hatred for himself and that life had turned outwards and made him into the maniac he’d become. I don’t know if that was true, but I chose to believe it.
Living on the streets was something no one should ever have to do, and it wouldn’t surprise me that doing so for too long could turn a man into a monster.
“Ooooh, it’s cold!” Sasha squealed as Wendell squirted the ultrasound goop onto his baby bump.
“Power through,” Wendell joked as he began to rub the wand across Sasha’s belly. Arnold squeezed his hand, looked back at me and smiled, indicating that I should come over to them. I didn’t need any encouragement.
I walked in between them and looked at the monitor as the fuzzy image began to take shape. I could hardly see anything. It was like one of those Rorschach tests where your mind tells you what to see. I tried to pick out the lines of a little baby, but all I saw was a grainy squid…or maybe a turnip.
“There it is!” Wendell cried out, pointing to the monitor. “A heartbeat!”
“Oh, well, thank God it’s not dead,” I joked. Sasha slapped my hand and scolded me with his eyes.
“Jerk.”
“And….you have a boy!” Wendell continued, pointing lower. “See that right there? That is a penis.”
“Yay!” I cried out. “Two boys!”
“Just like you’d hoped for,” Arnold smiled, kissing both of us on our cheeks.
“Are you happy?” I asked him.
“Of course I am,” Arnold replied. “How could I not be? I have everything I ever wanted.”
“And photo number two…” Wendell muttered as he pressed a button on the machine. A printer clicked and whirred in the corner of the room and began spitting out a photo of Sasha’s baby. I already had mine.
“My very own squid picture!” he joked as Wendell handed him a paper towel to wipe his belly off while he put away the machine.
“Are you guys going next door now?” Wendell asked. His place was right next door to Jedrik’s furniture business and Sasha, who’d managed to fully reconcile things with his ex after everything that had happened, had recommended we have him make us a crib. Other alphas may have felt threatened by buying something from his mate’s ex-boyfriend, but not Arnold. Little things like that didn’t bother him. He was secure.
“Sure are,” he replied. “Hopefully he can make us something nice.”
“You kidding? Jedrik over there’s one of San Diego’s top custom furniture makers,” Wendell told us. “You’re like…upper class with one of his pieces in your house.”
“Well, I don’t care about being upper class,” Arnold replied. “As long as my family is happy and my boys have somewhere to sleep.”
“Priorities,” Wendell nodded in agreement. “Listen, give me a call when your waters break. You still want to do a home delivery?”
“Yes,” I said quickly.
“We do,” Sasha added.
“Well, I’m just a phone call away,” Wendell smiled.
Chapter Thirty-One
Arnold
Some alphas might feel strange going to meet their mate’s ex-boyfriend, but I’m not some alphas.
It didn’t bother me. In fact, I was happy that Sasha had managed to make up with Jedrik after everything they’d gone through. The wound between them, as a result of the things Sasha had done, was one I thought might never heal. We’d all gone through the storm and come out wet on the other side, but the sun was shining bright and warm now and we were all dry. Nothing lay in front of us but clear skies and a gorgeous future.
The door opened and I found myself staring at two children, a girl and a boy.
“Hello!” the girl said with a smile. She had a head of blonde curls that had been managed slightly with a set of double braids that ran down the back of her head. “How are you?”
“I’m good, little lady,” I said with a smile, turning to the boy. “And how are you?”
“Good!” he smiled. “I’m Rodrigo and this is Perla! Are you looking for my daddy?”
“I sure am,” I said.
“Who’s that?” Jedrik’s voice called from behind the children. “That Arnold and Sasha?”
“Sure is!” I called back.
“Come here, kids!” Jedrik called. His little ones both waved before scampering away. I heard one of their fathers, probably Perry, chuckle as he took them out of the shop and up to their apartment.
Jedrik appeared in the doorway, his shoulders covered in sawdust. He extended a hand, which I took and shook firmly. He had the calluses of a man who worked with his hands for a living.
“Arnold,” he smiled.
“Jedrik.”
“Hey, Jedrik,” Jace said.
Arnold shook both of my mates’ hands, giving Sasha an extra smile to let him know they were still cool.
“Come to talk about the crib?” he asked, opening the door wide and heading into the shop. We followed after him.
“What’d you have in mind?” I asked him, surveying all the various projects he’d started that sat at various stations across the spacious shop. I saw rockers for a rocking chair, a table top and legs that looked like it was close to being assembled, and something else that was either a piece to a bed or a boat—I couldn’t be sure which.
“Hey, you’re the woodworker,” Sasha replied.
“Not the only one here who’s good with wood though,” Jace joked, rousing a laugh from the group.
“Well, I was thinking something relatively traditional,” Arnold replied, reaching over to a workbench and lifting a cylindrical slat that lay beside several rectangular pieces of stock. “This is cherry. I love cherry. It’s a hardwood, which means it won’t dent easily, and when I finish it with shellac, it looks like this…”
He lifted a small piece of scrap that he’d applied a finish to and showed it to us. It shone bright amber, reflecting the light beautifully.
“That’s beautiful,” I replied. “Real classy.”
“Do we want classy for our babies, though?” Sasha asked. “I mean—why not a nice bright red painted crib? Something less sophisticated? We can have Jedrik do fancy beds for them when they’re older.”
“He’s got a point,” Jace chimed in. “A fancy crib like this feels like something you’d put the Queen of England in or something.”
“Yeah, the Prince of France or whatever,” Sasha added.
“The Prince of France?” I laughed.
“I dunno!” Sasha laughed.
“I get that,” Jedrik smiled. “A painted crib is less labor intensive and I could charge you less as well.”
We were already getting a great deal from Jedrik, but who didn’t mind saving a little more money?
“And I’ll decorate the rest of the room to match!” Sasha said, clapping his hands with excitement. Sasha had completely domesticated himself since becoming pregnant and deemed himself the interior designer/decorator of the house, agreeing to share cooking duties with Jace as I was a typical hopeless cop who’d lived on take-out for the majority of his life.
“That sounds perfect,” Jace replied. “What color? You want red?”
“Yes!” Sasha replied quickly. “Red or red and white. What do you think, Jedrik?”
“I think a nice fire engine red would be just perfect for your two little boys,” he smiled. “I’ve already got some legs milled out. I can have it ready for you in two to three days. Does that work?”
“That fast?” I asked skeptically. “You sure, Jedrik? I don’t want you putting aside any of your big commissions for us
. The boys can sleep with us for a few days once they come.”
“Not a problem. I’ve got a break in my schedule soon anyways. Just delivered a massage wardrobe to a client in Carlsbad and I’m still going back and forth on design with a bed I’ve got to do, so this will be a great little project to get my mind off those things.”
“Hey, if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me,” I said, shaking his hand. “We’ll be looking forward to it!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sasha
We spent the next few days doing what I guess is called “nesting.”
Jace and I were both ready to pop and our instincts to make the home into a den were overpowering. I couldn’t help but start rearranging all the furniture, moving things around and then moving them back, checking the Feng Shui and then moving everything around once more. I knew it was driving Arnold slightly nuts, but he never said anything. He just sipped his coffee and smiled. I think he actually enjoyed the chaos.
Meanwhile, Jace was stocking up on things he knew (or thought) we would need after the boys came.
Diapers, of course, all kinds of baby soaps he’d read about on the internet, swaddling blankets, ice packs for the daddies, a baby comb and brush set which I thought was funny, as babies came out with basically no hair at all, but then again we were shifters, and they might turn into little furballs in no time! I really didn’t know.
Then, on top of that, was the food.
“I’m having cravings already,” he told me. “Are you?”
“I could kill for some buttered pecan ice cream,” I said. “I don’t even remember the last time I had it, but for some reason it seems like it would really hit the spot right now.”
“Okay, I’ll get some of that,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Oh, some dark chocolate,” I smiled. “And mac n cheese.”