by EE Silver
“Please, Trey. Save us!”
“Trey.” Scott’s voice was distant, and Trey shook it off. “Trey, I need you to take a deep breath and come back to me and tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re my mate, you’re supposed to protect us.”
Daisy whined, paws on his knees as she licked his face, but all Trey could think about was the desperation, the betrayal in Hunter’s voice. His mate, and their baby, burning to death because he couldn’t see them.
“It hurts, Trey! Save us!”
Couldn’t save them.
The dream memory faded, leaving Trey sitting on the floor of Scott’s office with a lapful of anxious assistance dog and tears streaming down his face. For long minutes, Trey just curled around Daisy, breathing deeply of her doggie scent, letting her thick fur dry his tears as he slowed his breathing. The whole while, Scott sat there in silence, letting Trey collect himself.
“Sorry,” Trey rasped, his voice ragged. Had he been screaming?
“Nothing you need to apologize about,” Scott said kindly. “Your trauma, and your mind’s response to it, are not failures. They’re signposts to the issues we need address, which is why you’re in therapy.”
Trey grunted, but relaxed in increments. As the shakes subsided, he gave Daisy one last gratefully pat before getting up and back in his chair. “I can’t save the baby, and it dies,” he said finally, glad he wasn’t able to make eye contact.
“Do you know this child?” It sounded like Scott knew the answer, but Trey wasn’t going to give it to him if he didn’t.
He shrugged. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell in the dream. Really, all that matters is I get to listen to someone else die because of my failure.”
“Does this have anything to do with Hunter being pregnant?” Scott asked, instead of latching on to his usual tack of reminding Trey it wasn’t his fault.
“You knew?” Trey asked, a pit opening up in his stomach. He’d been such an idiot. Of course Scott knew. He’d probably expected Hunter to tell him right away like a reasonable adult.
“The whole town figured it out when he went from a flat stomach to second trimester in a matter of days,” Scott said, seemingly oblivious for once. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pregnancy move this fast before, but Hunter’s family is pretty different, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“How different can a bunch of raven shifters be?” Trey didn’t bother keeping the bitterness out of his voice. At this point, he didn’t care if it pissed off the only shrink he’d ever clicked with; he was owed a little sulking, for fuck’s sake.
But instead of being offended on his friend’s behalf, Scott just laughed. “I take it he didn’t get a chance to tell you himself, did he?”
Trey shook his head. “There are a lot of things Hunter didn’t bother with telling me when he had the chance,” he said, although now he thought about it, Trey did remember Hunter trying to tell him something while Trey was kicking his ass out of the house.
Scott snorted. “Typical.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trey asked, interested despite himself.
“It means that I’m not surprised that one of the Norn brothers screwed up their own life. They’re great with everyone else’s, but have always been a disaster on their own.” Scott sighed. “Our hour is just about up. Look, I know you’ve got to be feeling like shit right now, and that’s to be expected. The change in your dream is interesting, and I want to talk about it more when you’re standing a little steadier. We’re definitely looking at a new anxiety that ties into what we’ve been working on all along, and I feel good that if we can untangle this, we might be able to improve your overall emotional health.”
“Dare to dream, Doc,” Trey said. “What’s my homework this time?”
“It’s an easy one,” Scott said. He moved, and then shuffled his feet to let Trey know he was approaching. A cool, strong hand squeezed Trey’s shoulder. “Your homework this week is to consider hearing Hunter out of you run into him. I can only guess at what really happened between you two, but knowing him, there actually is a good explanation. It’s just up to you whether or not you’re able to believe him or forgive him once he’s said his piece.”
Trey shook his head. “Not going to tell me I have to forgive your buddy in order to move on?”
“No. If Hunter wronged you, then it’s entirely up to you to decide if you’re going to forgive him. You’re an adult, and more than capable of making decisions in the best interest of your own happiness. Anyone who tries to tell you that you’re obligated to forgive someone else is full of it.”
“What about if they’re a psychiatrist telling me I have to forgive myself?” Trey teased.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Scott said, lightly steering Trey and Daisy to the door.
Trey snorted, but let Scott have the last word. When the door opened, he felt the change come over Scott, his body language opening up in a way that only meant one thing. Quintus.
“Kitty, what are you doing here?” With one last squeeze to Trey’s elbow, Scott let him go to greet his mate with what sounded like one hell of a kiss. “I thought you were seeing Morgan today. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Quintus said. “Just bored out of my mind and hoping you were free to go with me to the Christmas market. I want to get the last of my shopping done before the crowds hit.”
“I’m booked solid for the rest of the day,” Scott said. “If you want to give me your list, I can do your shopping after, though. That way you can go home and rest.”
“I said I’m fine,” Quintus said, voice tight like he was gritting his teeth. “And I’m sick of doing nothing all day. Hopefully a little exercise will get these cubs moving on out of me.”
“That’s pretty much what I’m worried about,” Scott said.
Trey’s scalp prickled when Quintus growled softly, and he decided to step in before Scott got brained with one of the waiting room chairs. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. “I won’t be much help in picking out colors, but if there are any problems, we’ll have Daisy with us.”
Scott hesitated, and Trey knew he was weighing Quintus’s obvious need to do things against Trey’s episode a few minutes earlier. Panic attacks often wiped him out and let Trey irritable and easily triggered, so it made sense for Scott to worry. But right then, the last thing Trey wanted was to go home and be alone with his thoughts.
“I’ve got this, Doc,” Trey said, hoping Scott would take the hint instead of trying to force the issue. “You’re the one who keeps saying I need to work on being in crowds so I don’t become a hermit with no one but my dog and my computer for company.”
“That settles it,” Quintus said before Scott could say anything. “I have you and Morgan on speed dial, Donald too. Don’t force me to kick your ass, Scotland.”
“I would dream of it, Kitty,” Scott said. “Have fun. Be safe. Please don’t have the cubs in front of the bandstand.”
“No promises,” Quintus said, and Trey could feel his small frame pressing against his side. “Let’s go, Trey. I have a lot of shopping to do.”
Chapter Eleven
Trey
Christmas shopping had always been a chore, and Trey hadn’t had any hope that it would get any better now that he couldn’t see the tinsel and sale signs. But Quintus made a point of taking him to places with interesting smells and lots of textiles for Trey to touch, helping build an image of the winter wonderland he’d always envisioned the Christmas market to be. They listened to carolers and drank cocoa, and thanks to Quintus’s exceptionally pregnant bulk and Daisy’s vigilance, Trey hardly had to worry at all about being jostled by strangers.
Trey was pleasantly surprised to find he was enjoying himself, and was more than a little disappointed when Quintus tired after a little more than an hour. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he could navigate the crowds by himself, though, so he was resigned to calling a taxi and heading home once he made sure Quintus was
safely headed back to his and Scott’s.
“A friend of mine just texted, if you want to stay,” Quintus said, as if he could read Trey’s mind. It would figure, considering who his mate was. “He’s a few stalls away doing his own shopping and I’m sure he’d be happy to do whatever you need.”
“I don’t know if I’m up for hanging out with a stranger,” Trey said carefully. Quintus had been so good to him, but a lot of well-meaning people just didn’t understand that not everyone knew how to actually provide help without being obnoxious.
“Don’t worry, you’ve met him,” Quintus said, then shouted, “We’re over here!”
“I see you just fine,” Hunter said, and Trey tensed up. “No need to shout.”
“I didn’t want you to miss us,” Quintus said, his voice sly. “But my ride is here, so I have to waddle away. You remember Trey, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah,” Hunter said, suspicion clear in his voice. “Of course I—”
“Good. I’ll see you guys later.” And with that, Quintus left.
There was a long, awkward pause while the noises of the crowd washed over them and Trey debated calling Scott to get him out of there. Finally, Hunter laughed.
“That little fucker set us up,” he said. “Gave me a whole hour’s notice and insisted I come. Even told me to bring food for him since he hadn’t eaten all day.”
Trey shook his head. “I wish I could be surprised. Look, I hate to ask, but can you get me a cab so I can get home? I’m turned around and not a hundred percent sure where I am right now.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” Hunter paused. “And I will, no arguments. But I have two meat pies I just bought. Maybe we could eat and talk about a few things first?”
“Do I have much of a choice?”
“Of course you do,” Hunter said. “Besides, if I tried to do something stupid like force you to stay here, I know damn well you and Daisy would just leave. It might take you a while to get that cab without help, but I wouldn’t put it past you to do it to make a point.”
Trey drew his shoulders back. Damn straight he would. And he probably should, too. But he couldn’t ignore what Scott had said about considering listening to what Hunter had to say. Besides, with the initial anger faded down to a low simmer, Trey found he wanted those answers. They might not make a bit of difference, but he was owed it.
“Meat pies?” he asked. “Sounds like something we’d need to sit down for. Are there tables nearby?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said, the word coming out on a rush of air. “Yeah. There’s an empty table about ten feet to your six.”
Trey nodded and turned around, finding his way to the table exactly as described. He sat waiting, hands on the rough wood of the table and Daisy under his seat, until the warm edges of a paper bowl brushed his fingers.
“There’s a set of utensils on your right,” Hunter said from just across the table.
“Thank you.” Despite his resolve to get answers, Trey wasn’t sure he was ready for the heavy stuff just yet. He unwrapped the paper napkin from around the plastic fork and knife, and stabbed at his food, releasing a savory cloud of steam. “I never asked, but you’re very good at helping without…”
“Without being an overbearing dickhead?” Hunter chuckled. “When you’ve been around as long as I have, you meet a lot of different people. You’re far from the first blind person I’ve known. Back in the day, the blind people I knew didn’t last long unless they were badasses supported by people who knew when to get out of the way. The lesson stuck.”
“You make it sound like you’re ancient.” He stirred his food to cool it, the warm steam still hitting his face letting Trey know eating now would be a big mistake unless he wanted to sear his taste buds off. “How old are you, really?”
“That’s a very simple question without a simple answer,” Hunter said after a beat. “Time moves differently where I’m from, but in your years, I’m somewhere between two and three thousand.”
Trey threw his fork down in disgust. “If you don’t want to tell me, there’s no need to lie,” he snapped.
“It’s not a lie.” Hunter touched the back of Trey’s hand, his fingers warm in the cold air. “I’m not mortal. I never have been. Come on, Trey. You’re a werewolf and your therapist is a vampire. Is it really so out of the realm of possibility that there might be immortal beings out there? Divine ones?”
Trey scoffed. “I’m pretty sure God is older than a few thousand years,” he said.”
“Depends on which god you’re talking about. And which family. My father created time as mortals know it, starting with my sisters. My brothers and I came along later. Much later, and around the time Scott’s grandfather was building the Great Hall in his realm between realms. That’s when it was decided that humans and other mortals needed a little more direct involvement from agents of fate.”
He sounded so matter of fact. So certain that what he was saying wasn’t absolutely bonkers. “To be honest,” Trey said slowly. “I’m trying to decide if I should play along, or call the men in the white coats.”
“Yeah, mortals these days have trouble accepting that your view of reality is a lot more narrow than it should be,” Hunter said. “The truth is, Morgan, Rowan and I are gods. Among other things, I have power over the present.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes. If it doesn’t have anything to do with me directly, I can see all possible avenues in a given moment. Very useful in war time, but unfortunately completely useless for my own personal needs.” Hugo sighed. “But I can also control a single moment for extended periods of time – which is how I’ve been ten weeks pregnant for the past five years.”
“Uh-huh.” Trey dropped his hands in his lap. Around them, people went on with their shopping, carolers sang, a heated argument about cocoa versus hot cider was raging nearby, and all of Vale Valley kept right on bustling on despite the fact that the omega Trey had been convinced was his mate was nuttier than one of Rosemary Vale’s fruitcakes.
“You don’t understand, do you?” Hunter sighed. “Or, rather, you don’t believe me.”
“Oh, I get it just fine.” Trey stabbed his fork into the pie, heard it flatter to the table. “You’re saying you’re a god.” He said each word slowly, as if tasting them would help. It only made him more aware of how absurd the whole situation was.
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been pregnant since the first time we slept together,” Trey went on, anger building like a fire in his gut and burning away any attempt at maintaining his calm. “Which is the only proof of your supposed powers you’ve offered, so you’re expecting me to believe it’s more likely that you’ve been carrying my child for five years than you lied about whether or not you’ve been seeing anyone else. Which I would be able to accept, by the way, a lot easier than this great, steaming mountain of bullshit you insist on shoveling!”
He was shouting by the end, and judging by the sudden, awkward silence around them, a lot of Vale Valley’s finest busybodies had noticed.
“Do you all mind?” Hunter snarled. “We didn’t sell tickets to this show.”
Trey bit back the urge to apologize for his outburst as the crowd noises resumed. He wasn’t actually sorry in the slightest, and if Hunter was uncomfortable with people witnessing him getting a dressing down, then he should stop being such a damn liar.
“Don’t tell me you’re surprised I caused a scene when you’re trying to feed me nonsense,” was all he said.
“You don’t believe me,” Hunter said, not sounding surprised in the slightest. “Look. Listen. I can prove it.”
“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t accept your word as proof,” Trey sniped over a passing band of carolers and someone barking for hot roasted chestnuts. A breeze kicked up, and he adjusted his scarf to keep the chill out. “And as fun as story time is, I think it’s time to go. Thanks for the closure. Daisy, up.”
“Wait. Please.” Hunter gripped Trey’s wrist, holding him in p
lace. Before Trey could pull free and give Hunter the dressing down that deserved, though, the strangest thing happened.
Silence.
Absolute, still silence. The carolers stopped mid-wassail, the chestnut vendor ceased his call, even the couple bickering about their favorite beverages shut up. The breeze cut off at the same time, and under his scarf, Trey’s neck prickled. He stumbled against an unexpected bulk at his feet, and would have fallen if Hunter hadn’t caught him and eased him back to the bench.
“What?” Focusing on the last detail, Trey reached down and buried his fingers in Daisy’s familiar ruff. But she didn’t lean into him like usual, or nose at him to make sure he didn’t need her. She didn’t move at all. She was just crouched there, still as a statue. “Daisy? Girl?”
“Sorry, that’s my fault,” Hunter said. “Let me just…there.”
Even as Hunter spoke, Trey felt Daisy stirring again. She stood and shook her whole body, then growled softly as she took in whatever was going on around them. “What is it, girl?” Trey asked, not sure he’d have wanted an answer even if she could give one.
“I’m the god of the present,” Hunter said. “That means I can hold on to a single moment. For a while, at least. So when I found out I was pregnant after our night together, I decided to hold on to that moment until I could share it with you.”
The noises of the Christmas market started back up again, along with the wind that had nothing on the creeping chill down Trey’s spine.
“I didn’t think it would take so long to find you,” Hunter went on. “But from the moment we ran into each other at the hospital, the baby’s been growing faster and faster. Instead of months, it’ll be here in a matter of weeks.”
“Jesus. This is actually real.” Unbidden, Trey remembered running his hands over the smooth, flat surface of Hunter’s stomach only a week and a half ago. “Scott said something about you being noticeably pregnant already,” he said.