by Eve Langlais
The cleaners no sooner left, their van ironically labeled Pest Removal, than Jett arrived, with Becky in tow. The smart man at least knew to come bearing breakfast from Tim Horton’s: a tray of coffees hot enough to still steam in the air and, in his wife’s hands, a box of treats.
“Where is she?” his former nursing assistant asked. Becky looked good this morning, her skin fresh and her eyes bright. Better than a few weeks ago when they’d had to start her on some supplements—in the tub. Apparently pregnant mermaids needed water nutrients as much as human vitamins.
“Jane is still scalding herself in the tub.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder indicating the inside of the house.
“I can’t believe you doped her again.” Becky huffed, having obviously gotten the latest details from Jett.
“She didn’t give me a choice.” When she’d kissed him, all he’d wanted was to kiss her back. And not just on her mouth. He panicked. Rather than push her away and explain how inappropriate it was, he’d drugged her.
Pathetic.
“Pathetic!” Becky more or less read his mind as she slapped his arm. “Just like a guy to dart first and talk later. I thought you said she could be reasoned with.”
“She thinks what’s happening is a dream.” He didn’t mention the part where he was pretty sure he’d convinced her otherwise.
Becky exclaimed, “More like a nightmare.”
“Gee thanks,” was Jett’s sarcastic retort.
“I wasn’t talking about our situation,” Becky huffed at her husband with a roll of her eyes, stepping into the house and peeling off her outer layer. “Think of it from Jane’s point of view. She’s been asleep for two decades. She wakes up and finds out that not only did she OD, and lose out on half her life, but her parents are dead and you experimented on her.”
“What do you mean experimented?” screeched by a Jane who overheard. “I thought you gave me a cure.”
Meeting her accusing stare, he didn’t cower. “I did give you a cure. It’s just not exactly approved by any agencies yet.”
“And what of my parents?” she snapped. “Where are they?”
“I thought you understood they died when I took over your care.”
Judging by her angry expression? No, she hadn’t.
“Asshole!” A growled insult followed by the slam of a door.
Becky gave him an incredulous look. “I thought you told her everything.”
“Not quite. There was a lot to cover.” Adrian rubbed at the knot on his forehead, the throb becoming familiar.
“You are such a man!” Becky declared before stomping off in Jane’s direction, only to have Jett snare her arm.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To talk to her, of course.”
Adrian cleared his throat. “Um, that might not be a safe idea.”
“What he said,” Jett added.
“You saying I can’t handle myself?” Becky pulled free of her husband and crossed her arms, her expression daring them to challenge her. Gone was the broken nurse he’d hired, in her place a feisty woman who, when riled, bristled with scales.
“I’m saying you’re a lover not a fighter. That woman could kill you before you even said hello.” Jett doubled down.
“If she was going to kill someone, she’d have killed him.” Becky jabbed a finger in Adrian’s direction. While they’d come to a truce after the unfortunate incident where he was going to sell Becky for quick cash, she still didn’t like him. As for Jett, he grasped business. And his business was keeping his wife happy.
“She probably doesn’t want to twist off his head yet just in case she still needs him for something. But she might not feel the same about you,” Jett retorted.
“Guess I’m not getting boss of the year again,” Adrian muttered.
“If you want a trophy for biggest asshole, I’m pretty sure you’ll win hands down,” Becky shouted as she headed for the kitchen.
Left alone with Jett, Adrian sighed. “Go ahead. Tell me how I’m doing everything wrong.”
A snort met his statement. “I’d have said that was obvious. But, at the same time, while you did a lot of questionable shit, without you acting out your god complex, I wouldn’t have met my wife. So…” Jett shrugged.
“There are days I ask myself if it was worth it.” In a rare moment of truth, Adrian admitted, “I could have stopped once I cured myself.” Could have stopped any step of the way.
“If you had, Becky would have died of her cancer by now.”
He cast a glance at Jett. “I didn’t so much cure her as change her.”
“Yep. You did. But I’d rather Red be able to harangue us both, even if sometimes she has to resort to spitting water at me from the tub.”
Adrian’s lips quirked. “She’s a firecracker.”
“Most redheads are. Keep that in mind.” Jett didn’t need to say anything more.
Adrian’s gaze flicked down the hall. “Jane’s doing extremely well given circumstances.”
“Don’t really give a rat’s ass about Jane. How are you doing?” Jett asked.
The very act of asking startled Adrian. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Jett headed for the patio doors and looked outside, his gaze keen and searching. “You killed again.”
“Jealous?” Because it used to be Jett that dealt with his messes.
“No, but I am wondering why you’ve chosen to kill so much of late.”
Wasn’t it obvious? “They’re not giving me much of a choice,” spoken a touch defensively.
“Not judging,” Jett remarked, glancing at him briefly over his shoulder. “But the old Adrian I knew was about helping and healing. He would have armed himself with tranquilizers. Whereas new Adrian has been eliminating his patients.”
“I didn’t kill Jane.”
“The exception. Everyone else is getting a quick bullet to the head.”
“Because that’s the quickest way to deal with someone intent on murder.”
“Jane came here to murder your ass, and yet you doped her instead of sending her on to her final destination.”
“Jane’s different.” For so many reasons.
“No, she’s not. You’re different. With her, you have compassion. A willingness to help. But not so much with anyone else that shows up at your door—or window.” He turned from the sliding pane to face Adrian.
“Jane responded to my words.”
“Because you gave her words. The thing you just dispatched got a quick bullet to the head.”
How did Jett know? He’d taken away his security camera access. Apparently, not as well as he’d thought.
Adrian pressed his lips. “You’ve been spying on me.”
“Yep.” No attempt at denial. Jett’s hard, flat gaze fixed him. “And don’t expect an apology for it. I need you alive for my wife and the babies she’s carrying. Yet, you seem determined to do stupid thing after stupid thing. If you’re suicidal, it might be quicker to jump off something high. Or run into my fist a few times.” Jett held it up.
“You are insubordinate for an employee.”
“Good thing we’re past that.”
“Don’t tell me we’re friends,” Adrian said with disdain to hide the clenching in his chest.
“Fuck no.”
The expected answer, so why did Adrian not like it? He changed the subject. “When is Luke bringing Margaret back? I received all the supplies we should need.”
“Soon. He says Margaret wants to get some stuff ready before the birth of the baby.”
“She’s nesting,” Adrian stated, having spent his down time doing research on pregnancy and birth—for humans and wolves. He believed it best to cover all his bases.
“Sounds like something birds do.” Jett grimaced.
“It’s a need many expectant mothers feel that leads them to preparing the home for the arrival of an infant.”
“Is that why Becky keeps harassing me to get more shit for the nursery?”
>
“Are you talking smack about the babies?” Becky appeared suddenly, rounded tummy leading the way. She held a stack of small plates with the donut box perched on top.
She wasn’t alone. At her back stood Jane, her expression angry, especially when she glared at Adrian, but she’d not fled.
A step in the right direction.
“Donuts anyone?” Becky asked, dumping the dishes and treats on the living room table. She didn’t wait for takers, loading a plate with a pair of pastries and snaring a cup from the tray.
Adrian frowned. “Caffeine might not be a good idea given the pregnancy.”
Eyeing him over the steaming rim, Becky smiled, and managed to give him a middle finger. “This is not the Middle Ages. One cup a day won’t hurt.”
“Is there sugar?” Jane asked, coming close enough to grab a cup of her own.
“You want the one labeled diabetes in a cup,” Jett jested, pointing to the large one labeled ten S. As in ten sugars. He really had been watching.
As for Adrian…he was left with the one dangling a string. He held it up and glared at his employee. “Tea?”
“Coffee makes you irritable.”
For some reason this made Jane giggle.
There was silence for several minutes as they munched on donuts and sipped warm drinks.
Meddling Becky was the one to first shatter that peace. “Sorry Adrian is such a dick.”
He choked on his mouthful of tea. Jane outright laughed and Jett—that fucker—tried hard not to grin.
“Is the name-calling necessary?” Adrian sputtered.
Becky’s hands lifted in surrender. “Hey, I’m not the one who kept secrets.”
“It wasn’t a secret. I just hadn’t had time yet to broach those things,” he mumbled.
Jane jumped to his defense. “It wasn’t his fault. Things have been a touch”—she paused, searching for a word—“complicated since I woke.”
“Woke and came looking for the boss man.” Jett leaned against the fireplace, coffee in hand. “Thought for sure you were gonna kill him that first night. When you lifted him by the throat and his eyes were bulging, thought he was a goner for sure.” Jett mimed choking then laughed. “I might get that put on a card for the holidays.”
Adrian’s sharp glare did nothing to stop his guard from speaking with impudence. But it was hard to stay mad when Jane reacted with a mischievous smile.
“You never know, I might still choke him like a chicken,” Jane joked. “But before I do that, I need to know more about what happened. Everything this time.” The suspicious statement was aimed at him.
Becky, having polished off her donuts, jumped in. “In a nutshell? You were in a coma. He healed you. And like everyone else that got his treatment, there are side effects.” Becky was matter-of-fact.
“What kind of side effects?” Jane asked.
Here came the part that made Adrian almost squirm in his seat. While living rather than dying was obviously the biggest benefit, sometimes the genetic melds took a little too well and the person became…less than a person.
Like you, boyo. What are you now? Man? Monster?
Shut up.
“The side effects vary.” Becky shrugged. “But there is always something. Fur. Fangs. Wings. A tail, sometimes two. Fins. Got any of that?”
“Not exactly.” The hesitance showed as Jane hedged.
Adrian cleared his throat. “Many of the patients show no outwards signs, as you well know.” Look at him, perfect on the outside.
But you’re a mess inside, boyo.
“Yeah, some look normal, but many more turn into complete monsters.” Becky addressed Adrian with a stern glare. “Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
“That depends on your definition of monster.”
Jett lowered his coffee long enough to mutter, “Thing that kills people and eats them.”
“Meat is meat.”
Adrian almost choked on his coffee as Jane replied. Not exactly a human answer, but the expression on Jett’s face? Now that was worthy of a Christmas card.
Becky diverted attention. “Jeezus, someone is doing back flips in there.” She put a hand to her stomach, drawing attention to the growing size of her belly. Not unusual given she did carry twins; however, he’d have to watch her even more closely given the quick gestation and the size of the baby seen in Margaret.
Jane eyed the pregnant hump with interest. Which gave Adrian an idea.
He clapped his hands and said, “Who wants to see the babies in Becky’s tummy?”
With a squeal, Becky heaved herself off the couch. “You got the ultrasound machine?”
“I did. It’s downstairs.”
“In the bad place,” Jane muttered. “He makes me sleep down there.”
“Because it’s the only place with a bed,” was his retort. Most of the main floor comprised of his living area and master bedroom.
Jett led the way, his hand guiding Becky in the middle of her back, which left Adrian with Jane, who sidled close and said, “Your bed is big enough for two.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Idiot. What do you think it means?
She wanted to share his bed. For sleep only? Something else? How confusing.
He stumbled after them, mind spinning, and almost missed her next statement.
“My parents are really dead.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
She paused in the stairs, forcing him to pause, too. “Why? You didn’t know them.”
“Because you’re probably sad.”
She cocked her head as if in thought. “Yes and no. In many ways, they’re like a dream. A pleasant one that’s faded into the background.”
“They loved you very much. When the doctors wanted to take you off the respirator, they refused. They kept you alive.” A good thing, because at eighteen he didn’t have the means or ability to do anything to help her.
“My mom visited me a lot.” Her eyes took on a dreamy cast. “She read to me. And then she was gone. But the weird thing is…” She focused on him. “Other people started reading, too.”
The revelation startled. “That would be the audio books I had the nursing staff play for you. Podcasts, too. Since I wasn’t sure how much you could hear or feel, I covered all the bases.” He kept her to what would have been a normal wake and sleep cycle. Feedings at breakfast, noon, and dinnertime. A massage four times a day to keep her muscles supple. A blend of music, books, and current news played to her daily. Lights off at night with the curtains opened in the day to bathe her in sunlight. Temperature control ensuring she didn’t get too hot. Which, in retrospect, might have delayed her recovery.
“Did Trump truly become the president?” she asked.
“Yes, and this is a phone.” He held up his smartphone and watched her eyes widen in wonder. She grabbed it and turned it over in her hands, gasping when the screen lit.
“It’s so small.” But her amazement was huge.
There was so much he wanted to show her. If she’d let him.
“Hello, impatient pregnant woman threating bodily harm if you don’t get down here,” Jett shouted.
“We’d better go,” he said, wanting to throttle Jett. For just a second, he and Jane had shared a real moment. A connection.
He would have liked to savor it longer, because he had a feeling it wouldn’t last once she truly grasped the extent of his experiments.
Chapter Thirteen
Adrian went ahead of Jane, giving her his back. His trust.
It would be so easy to kill him.
Kill him for what? Saving her? If not for him, she’d be six feet underground. He’d cared for her even though he didn’t have to. Watched over her. Why?
Entering the basement, which in his defense was nothing like a cell with its big windows and ample light, she glared at her bed. Freshly made with new sheets. The body on the floor gone, along with the mess it made.
She still recalled that stunning moment when Adrian sh
ot the creature.
Pop. No hesitation nor any hint of regret on his face. She’d heard him arguing with that man. Jett. Saying he had no real choice. The thing attacked him. But Jett raised a good point. She’d also tried to kill him.
He could have shot me. Instead, he invited her into his home. Bought her gifts. She glanced down at the light gray tracksuit, the material soft and supple, the shoes almost like slippers with their flexibility. He made her food. Provided bath salts that she might have a luxurious soak. No cold water in the tub, just pure hot. Hot enough to scald a person, which meant her ability to withstand and luxuriate in it must be a side effect of the cure he’d given her. Less a side effect and more a superpower. But given he was the doctor who’d created it, did that make him the villain?
Jane almost barked at the woman who clambered onto her bed. Hadn’t she just bitched a few minutes ago that she didn’t want it? Yet already she considered it hers. As to Adrian’s blithe reply that it was the only other bed available? She’d certainly not seen another upstairs other than his.
A gentleman would have offered it. And she would have said no. Which meant…nothing in the grand scheme of things. Her world had suddenly erupted, and she was straggling to catch up, looking for ways to vent at the unfairness of it all.
In that maelstrom of confusion, there was only one thing that provided a stable point.
As Jett tended his wife, she sidled close to Adrian’s side and murmured, “From now on, I think I should get the bed, and you get the one on wheels.”
He barely cast her a glance, intent on getting his machine going. “I’ll have you know, the mattress I use down here is of the highest quality. The sheets an expensive Egyptian cotton blend.”
“I’m glad you like it so much, because you’ll be sleeping on it.”
“What happened to sharing the big one in my room?” Said with a devilish tilt of his brow.
Before she could reply, he was moving away from her, the machine rolling with him.
Rather than ogle Becky’s gigantic belly, Jane prowled the room, a little miffed when he didn’t pay her any mind. Nope, Adrian was intent on dumping goop on another woman and rubbing her flesh with it.