Beth's Stable

by Amanda Milo

Prow, walking abreast of me with Ekan, is forced to walk on the grass because the sidewalk isn’t wide enough for all of us. Prow doesn't notice the crushed grass under his feet, but I do. My ex will be so ticked if his turf gets messed up. Tiernan and Oquilion are on my other side, both of them treading down the perfectly manicured lawn too, flattening everything in their wake. This place is not meant to have a horde of pirate boots descend on its tender green sprouts.

  Qolt is in front of us, his strides long, confident, and angry. This is confirmed when he reaches the door—and bangs his fist on it so hard, I stare at the wood to see if he’s dented it.

  Qolt steps back.

  All the guys meld away from me.

  My head is doing that cartoonish sweep, from one side of me to the other, when the door swings open, and here he is.

  I’m confronting my very shocked ex.

  He’s much smaller in person than he looms in my memory. He hasn’t shrunk; I’ve just been hanging out with much, much bigger men. The sight of him isn’t making me hyperventilate, and adrenaline isn’t cannonballing into my system, prepping me for a panicked flight or fight—which is good, because against him, flight was my only option, and I wasn’t always fast enough at it.

  “You dumb cunt,” he breathes.

  “This is him,” I confirm, thinking that is the last time you’ll ever call me that. “No question. Guys, meet Richard, my ex.”

  Qolt’s fist cracks him in the jaw.

  I cringe.

  Tiernan’s arms come around me, and he’s so comforting—which seems like it’d be at complete odds with his tensed muscles and the growling sounds he’s making under his breath if you didn’t know how protective he is.

  I relax against him, only noticing as I do that somewhere from the ship to here, I started full-body trembling. I stiffen my spine.

  Richard is scrambling up from where he fell down at the shock of being attacked out of nowhere. “What the FUCK?!” he rages, face turning almost purple as the vein in his forehead starts to pound. Yep, I know this level of angry. This is my ‘Run, Beth, RUN!’ stage...

  Prow strolls up to Tiernan’s and my side, looking confused. “What’s a cunt?” His eyes cut to Richard. “What did you just call her?”

  Before Richard can spit a reply at him, Prow’s eyes scrunch—then go wide. “Oop, nevermind. Translator just caught up.” His normally jovial face turns cold. “Huh. So this is what a dead man walking looks like.” He turns a disbelieving look to the other guys. “He did not just call our Beth that.”

  Richard cuts us all a killing glare, his hands fisted, his jaw already turning a darker color than the rest of his heated face. It’s clear the moment he becomes too furious to hold onto any common sense because he ignores the very dangerous males and trains his rage-filled eyes poisonously on me. “You know every type of law enforcement's been up my ass because of you? They think I had some connection to your disappearance—everybody thinks you're dead, and for months, they've been trying to pin that shit on ME.” He looks down at my baby-less stomach, and then at the guys around me. “I fucking knew it. I told them you found a dumb fuck to believe your bullshit sob stories, and he helped you run off with our kid!” He looks around at all my guys. “But what the fuck, Beth? You… You WHORE!”

  Ekan inhales slowly, his ribs expanding, and expanding—and I cringe a little, wondering when he’s going to explode.

  Sliding a knife out of a pocket on his thigh, Qolt hisses, “After we play with him a bit, we’ll hold him in case you want to do any carving of your own, Beth.”

  Ekan takes his narrowed eyes off of Richard so that he can pat himself, searching his pockets by his hips. His thighs. His belt.

  Everyone waits, even Richard, although he appears more overwhelmed than anything. Ekan finds what he’s looking for on his belt. He unclips a disk, and he squeezes it.

  An orb of yellow-colored veins flashes in the air, forming a freaky web around us, like that jungle gym thing you climbed upside down on at the playground as a kid.

  “Whoa…” I breathe just as Richard hollers a series of startled expletives.

  Ekan’s jaw is jutted. “This is a soundproofing radius. With this activated, your neighbors won’t hear you scream.”

  For the first time, Richard’s eyes collide with mine—his scared. It’s weird as heck to see.

  If this were a movie, the heroine would be like, Don’t touch him; carrying out violence will make you no better than him—blah, blah blah.

  This isn’t a movie.

  I was never strong enough to save myself, but now the five wonderful men I love are here to wreak vengeance on my behalf.

  They’re going to hurt him, and I’m not the kind of woman who will tell them it’s wrong.

  When the baby monitor chirps in my hand, I turn from Richard’s pitiful screams as he begs me to stop what’s started to happen. Tiernan follows me like a protective shadow until I reach the edge of the soundproof radius. When I walk into its yellow vein-netting, it lets me through, and I move swiftly to the stealth cruiser, taking the quickest path, right through the formerly immaculate lawn, and right to Annalise. With only slightly shaking hands, I pick her up, reassuring her with soft, untroubled words, not regretting what our crew is doing to the man who donated sperm to give her life. He’s getting a taste of what it feels like to be powerless and afraid.

  He’s not going to benefit from the lesson though. I have a feeling he’s not going to survive it.

  That’s not going to keep me up at night.

  And now, maybe memories of what he’s done to me won’t keep me up at night either.

  I hold Annalise’s gaze, so bright, so happy, so innocent. So fragile. But she’s got five wonderful fathers now, and I don’t have to be afraid for her—or for myself—again.

  ***

  When the guys get back, they file in and give me acknowledging chin tips, looking blood spattered and satisfied, like the avenging warriors they are. For me. For Annalise.

  They tromp off to shower, and when they assemble with Annalise and me, I get reassuring hugs, kisses, and an offer I don’t expect.

  Ekan plasters himself to my back, his arms squeezing around me as I cradle Annalise. “Want to visit a cinema? You can show us a live movie. You can introduce us to this popcorn you have regaled us with tales of,” he adds, his chin heavy but comforting where it rests in my hair. “And oooh!” He squeezes me, suddenly excited. “I want to sample a caffeinated beverage.”

  “NO,” the guys all thunder.

  “You want to…” I’m too shocked to even splutter; I just trail off.

  Qolt reaches past his brother to catch me by the jaw. This doesn’t dislodge Ekan because he moves with me as my head is tilted back. I feel very surrounded—in a soothing way. Qolt grouses, “Wasn’t even sporting by the end.” His gaze searches mine, his brows pinched, belying a concern his voice doesn’t betray. “Gotta do something in the spirit of carousing, even if we do it without spirits. What’s the drink you like? The one you describe as ‘foamy?’”

  “An ICEE,” I reply automatically. Is it appropriate to go to the movies after the man who was your boyfriend, your lover, your abuser, and your hunter is given a vengeful visit from your Na’rith mates and champions?

  “Yes, an ICEE! You’ve described them so skillfully I’m in dire need of tasting these. Both flavors, of course,” Ekan purrs, his rumble traveling from my scalp, down my back.

  It feels good.

  “I want the oblate spheroid candies,” Oquilion admits, rolling his shoulders. “The ones that tamed the alien.”

  He means E.T. His curiosity for this movie has only been topped by Lilo and Stitch.

  “Count me in for hitting the candy stands. I call the dark-form cocoa-bean byproduct-enrobed peppermint confections,” Prow says. “How do you mix pungent, hot-spice peppers and an aromatic culinary herb and make a sweet? I’m stymied.”

  “They don’t have real peppers…” I start. But I stop, because it real
ly is a thing that has to be experienced first hand.

  My gaze travels to Tiernan, who’s standing, arms crossed, watching me patiently. “What about you?” I ask him.

  Tiernan gives me one of his not-rare-for-me lopsided smiles. “The question, Beth, is what do you want to do?”

  Qolt’s thumb is still stroking my chin. My daughter is sleeping in my arms against my heart. And Ekan’s draped on me like an anti-anxiety blanket, all heavy and warm and strangely soothing even if he’s chaos personified. With Oquilion on one side, and Prow on the other, and Tiernan looking so settled now, I swallow. “You know what? A movie sounds great.”

  Prow snakes in and darts a kiss to my cheek above Qolt’s claiming hand.

  Ekan tightens his arms under my arms, and Oquilion smirks at him before he moves close and gives me a smooch on my other cheek.

  “And guys?” I say. My gaze travels to each of theirs, my next words heartfelt. “Thank you.”

  Oquilion ignores the way Ekan’s possessively rubbing his cheek over the top of my head like he’s a scent-marking beast, (and the way Qolt’s using my chin to reel me—and Ekan, who isn’t letting me go—closer to his lips) and whispers in my ear, “Beth.” His sharp teeth graze my lobe. “You’re precious to us. Annalise is precious to us. And never forget: we’re Na’rith. We fiercely protect our treasure.”

  CHAPTER 64—EPILOGUE 2—BETH

  BETH

  The movie is revivifying, in a sense. Everything feels so normal, even though everything is absolutely outside of normal. The guys stun other moviegoers, and the ticket sellers, and the concession workers with their imposing size, their jaw-dropping looks, and their unbridled enthusiasm for something as simple as hitting a late matinee.

  All five of my pirates line up to try the cherry and blue raspberry ICEE’s. Tiernan, tongue stained blue, gags and jerks back from his like it’s puffy, sugary poison.

  Prow’s brows scrunch, contemplative. “It’s effervescent slush. What ingredients are they combining to get it this consistency…” he wonders.

  Qolt’s sucking his back with his brows lifted like, ‘Eh, this ain’t bad.’

  And Oquilion’s holding his out to me. “Wouldn’t you like one?”

  Ekan snatches it out of his hand and pushes an empty one at Oquilion instead. “Get her a fresh one. Thanks for yours.”

  “You’re such a machaai,” sighs Oquilion, glancing around us, probably thinking it’s best not to break into a war right here in the quiet little theatre.

  Our tickets are for a comedy, and it’s a really good one. It feels super weird, because it feels like it’s both a lifetime ago and yesterday that I’d been stoked to hear production on this film had started, only to be bummed when I learned it wouldn’t be out for months and months. And suddenly, here we are, watching it.

  This world has gone on without me. I’d feel like I lost a chunk of my life, but as I find my guys in the dark, seated on either side of me (we took the whole back row to be polite to people who would otherwise have a hell of a time seeing around them)—I know I haven’t lost a chunk of anything.

  I look down at Annalise, and take stock of how… settled I feel. When I was last on Earth, I was running scared. The constant stress felt like it was going to kill me if an ambush attack didn’t do it first.

  As if my gaze on her is like a switch, Annalise’s eyes crack open. She’s been a pretty quiet girl, super, actually—but for the first time, she starts to make extremely unhappy, almost anxious little fussing noises.

  I rock her a little. I put her on my shoulder, and pat her. Burp her.

  No dice.

  Heads are starting to turn in our vicinity, and who can blame them?

  “Diaper checked?” Prow asks beside me, voice low and concerned.

  The diaper bag gets passed down the line to me, but I don’t need it. “She’s dry,” I whisper back.

  “Filled tummy?” asks Oquilion from beside him. “Perhaps she’s jealous of our treats. It’ll be awhile before she gets to try these E.T. candies and they’re delicious. My poor little narra.”

  My heart’s melting at the way he claims her, and she’s calmed a fraction, listening to him. But she’s still upset.

  “Here,” Qolt’s voice is just a growl—not because he’s angry, but because that’s just his voice.

  Annalise stops fussing.

  Without a word, I pass her to Qolt.

  About fifteen minutes of uninterrupted movie later, her little fussing sounds begin again—but this time, Tiernan takes her, and she quiets immediately.

  Two big audience-laughs later, and Annalise’s getting passed over me to Ekan on the very end, who stands and reaches for her. Then he passes her to Oquilion, who turns her over to Prow.

  Annalise shows she is appeased with this development by going back to being her quiet, happy little self.

  “Understandable that she’d get concerned. This is probably the longest she’s gone without hearing us talk,” Qolt states.

  And he’s right. Annalise was probably wondering what the heck happened to her crew.

  My heart’s turned into a S’more, all puffed up and warm and melting.

  Unfortunately, that’s the last thing I remember—I conk out, my head lolling on Prow’s strong arm. Which, when I come to, he’s got kinked up in an awkward position simply to offer me a better headrest.

  Qolt’s got Annalise again, and he suddenly makes a pronounced gasping noise that sends my heart skyrocketing. He leans forward, keeping her tight to him as he stares down at the floor. “Well that’s a goner! There’s no saving that pacifier now, look at what’s down there.”

  Annalise burbles back at him, not sounding repentant in the least.

  The lights lifting must have woken me, because they’re dim, but they’re on, and everyone ahead of us is just starting to turn their cell phones on as they rise from their seats, looking like a horde of movie-going zombies.

  I straighten off of my wonderful, sweet manpillow. “You didn’t have to do that for me. That couldn’t have been comfortable.”

  Prow brushes his lips over my forehead. “You needed a good sleep. We’d have gone back to the ship if we thought it wouldn’t have woken you—and if you wouldn't have forced yourself to stay here and stay awake for our sakes instead.”

  I would have tried to stay here and stay conscious. I really wanted them to enjoy the movie-going experience.

  I drag Prow to me, my face feeling like it’s taken on the impression of the seam on his sleeve, but I don’t let that slow me down from giving him a liptouch. “I love you,” I tell him. “Especially when you do crazy sweet things for me that you don’t have to.”

  Prow’s smile is pure wickedness. “I love you too, narra.” He rolls his shoulders, smiling at me. “And that’s why I do these things. But also, I wanted you rested. You owe me a tumble in an alley for ordering me to flirt with another wench.”

  I smirk up at him. “That’s usually not what happens when you go around flirting with other wenches, but you’re right… You did it on my orders.” I lick my lips. “What do you say we make it a bed on a ship instead of a dirty alley?”

  Prow helps me stand, and acts like he’s considering my counter offer with grave deliberation. “If we’re not going to get dirty in an alley, can we at least do dirty things in the bed?”

  “Oh yeah,” I confirm, taking his arm when he offers it to me. “That’s a given.”

  Behind him, Oquilion’s arguing with Ekan. “—not your turn. I’m giving Prow a couple clicks to get distracted; then I’m extracting her. You can tevek off. She almost made me flirt with the clerk. It was traumatizing.”

  ***

  When we exit the cinema, Tiernan stands tall and waits for me to tie the babywrap blanket around his too-wide back and chest so that Annalise can ride against his heart.

  It doesn’t take long. But it takes just long enough that Ekan’s attention wanders.

  You ever seen the way a dog gets captivated when it s
ees its first squirrel? Same thing. As soon as I’m done securing Annalise, Ekan’s catching my hand, raising it to dance us in place just because I guess this is how he deals with his happy energy, but then he goes still. “The big windows over yonder!” he breathes. “Is that establishment… shearing manes?”

  Oquilion muses, “Gryfala mane clippings go for a fortune.”

  Before any of us can stop him, looking crazy hot with his roguish smile when he should look plain, certifiably crazy—Ekan starts racing through traffic, barely taking the time to shout over his shoulder, “YES THEY DO—I’m off to go fuck up!”

  “He’s still using that word wrong,” Oquilion says.

  “Nope,” answers Prow. “I don’t think he is.”

  Cars honk, a semi truck throws its jake brakes—the hydraulic squeal nerve-wracking enough without an unimpressed policemen on a motorcycle turning on his siren—but somehow, with some serious luck—Ekan makes it to the other side of the street in one piece.

  Strapped to Tiernan’s front, Annalise is as silent as he is. I’d be worried about her lack of reaction, but she’s taking in the commotion with quiet interest. I suppose for her, seeing one of her koundreths do something dangerous and death-defying is really nothing new.

  I don’t have her poise. “He’s going to get caught by the cops!” I gasp.

  But instead of racing into the hair salon, Ekan darts into the alley beside it, and disappears.

  “I have a feeling he’ll be fine,” Tiernan says, his hand finding the small of my back. “Let’s get you and Annalise back to the ship just in case this area goes more to hells though.”

  Qolt slides a giraffe-appliqued diaper bag off of his shoulder, and hands it off to Oquilion. “I’ll follow after him, make sure he gets away with whatever the idtrek has planned.”

  To my extreme relief, Qolt doesn’t sound sulky about this. He doesn't look it either. He looks as if he’s amused and indulgent, his eyes not killing-sharp, and his features are relaxed in a way I like a lot. A whole lot.

  Impulsively, I throw my arms around him before he can turn away to follow Ekan. “Thank you.” I rain kisses on his face and throat until he’s proudly preening under my lips.