Night Creatures: Book 2

by Ebony Brightman

  Arlo made a left on Veteran. The doctor’s office was in Westwood near the UCLA Medical Center, but his house was in the neighborhood adjacent to the Vet’s Cemetery. That’s where they were headed. The physician’s name was Dr. Patterson. He saw his private clients at home, where a visit from someone trying to keep a secret would draw less attention.

  Arlo turned, making a right onto a small, residential street. They’d been instructed to park in his driveway and then walk around the side of the house to the guest cottage in the back.

  Arlo turned off the engine.

  “You ready for this?”

  “Not really,” Nisa said. “Does knowing for sure it’s not Shane’s really matter?”

  “It will matter in court.”

  Nisa grimaced. Those were the kinds of thoughts that made her stomach churn.

  “If I’m the biological dad, then we’re one step closer to getting rid of Shane. If I’m not the biological dad, then we’re no worse off than we already are, and it will help us come up with a better plan. Shane doesn’t know you’re here right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then the more information we have, the more we’ll be able to get the jump on him. And if needed, offer him a different deal.”

  Arlo’s logic was sound. It was better to have the facts. But Nisa also knew that once they went in, there was no turning back. There was no more living in blissful ignorance.

  Metal groaned as Nisa climbed out of the truck.

  “You know, you’re really annoying when you’re being smart and rational. It’s a good thing I love you.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  #

  Dr. Patterson’s backyard was a hidden gem.

  The house was quaint from the front—a white Cape Cod with black shutters and a bright red door—but the backyard was truly delightful.

  Once they’d passed through the gate, there was a flagstone path down the side of the house that opened to reveal a lush, green space. It had a pool that sparkled in the morning sun and a guest cottage covered in ivy. But the real magic was in the nearly wild foliage.

  Citrus trees laden with fruit lined the edges of the yard while honeybees danced between dozens of rosebushes. A patch of tilled land grew tomatoes, cabbage, and cucumber, while lavender and honeysuckle filled the spaces around it.

  She’d expected Willa to send them somewhere clinical and cold. Instead, they’d found an enchanted garden with a huge stone fire pit and a built-in barbecue.

  Arlo reached back and took Nisa’s hand. “Wow.”

  Nisa nodded her agreement. “Uh-huh.”

  “Hi!” A tiny redhead was walking toward them from the direction of the guest cottage. She was spritely and round with a face full of freckles. The closer she got the smaller she appeared, but by Nisa’s guess she was around fifteen.

  She looked up at them, smiling as she shaded her eyes from the sun. “You’re Nisa, right? And that would make you . . .”

  “Arlo.”

  He politely stuck out his hand.

  The girl shook it and giggled. “The maybe baby daddy, right? I’m Shereen. The doc is my dad.” Her face fell serious as she spotted Nisa’s bump, which to be fair, was at Shereen’s eye level. “Ohhhhh.” Her eyes fluttered closed, and she touched Nisa’s belly. “You’re having a girl, right?” Nisa looked at Arlo, not sure what was happening. Shereen’s eyes popped back open. “Sweet! Shereen’s a good name. Just sayin’,” she shrugged. Then she turned back toward the cottage. “Follow me, the doctor’s in!”

  The cottage was much bigger than it had looked in the yard. The front was like a sitting room, with a TV, comfortable leather couches, and a kitchen along the wall. There was a desk and office chairs, and toward the back the examination area.

  Dr. Patterson was also a redhead, but unlike his daughter he had a much quieter demeanor. “Hi,” he said, approaching with his hand out, “I’m Dr. Patterson.”

  “So nice to meet you. I’m Nisa Lennox.”

  “And I’m Arlo Silva.”

  For Arlo, the doctor shook with both hands—one grasping Arlo’s palm and the other covering his knuckles.

  Dr. Patterson smiled. “You’re the Lycan.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, but Arlo responded anyway.

  “I am.”

  “Your energy is very strong. Very virile.” He let go of Arlo’s hand. “So is yours, Nisa, but this one”—he wagged his finger at Arlo—“let’s just say it takes a special kind of woman to keep up.” A fact which Nisa knew all too well. “Please, both of you have a seat.”

  “Want a Snapple?” Shereen called over from the refrigerator. “We’ve got iced-tea, peach-mango, and lemonade. Oh wait—” Shereen snapped her fingers like she’d gotten a good idea. “No iced-tea for the pregnant lady. Too much caffeine. But how about the lemonade? My mom craved lemons like crazy when she was pregnant.”

  “Maybe just some water.” Nisa laughed.

  “Water it is,” Shereen chirped. “How ‘bout you Arlo?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Two waters, coming up.”

  Dr. Patterson tapped a key on his laptop. “She’s exuberant, that one. But she is a great assistant. That is, if you don’t mind that she’s here for the procedure. She’s somewhat of a savant, and as much as she likes to talk, she will maintain your privacy.”

  It was strange having a teenager in the room. Especially one as excitable as Shereen, but it was also somehow comforting. She had a generous spirit, and she made it all feel less serious. “Actually, I would love it if she stayed.” Then Nisa looked at Arlo for confirmation.

  “I’m fine with it if you are.”

  “Awesome,” Shereen said. Then she plopped their bottles of water on the table.

  Dr. Patterson gave her a look. “Shereen, why don’t you go set up the ultrasound and get the amnio kit ready.”

  Shereen clapped her hands together. “Gladly!”

  The doctor slid his laptop closer. “Okay, so Nisa I have your medical records . . .”

  “You do?” Nisa said in surprise.

  “Willa’s retainer is generous, which allows me to access systems that are more . . . comprehensive than your average data retention programs. That said, whatever happens here is confidential, even from Willa. Unless you tell me otherwise, the only person that will have access to this information will be you, Arlo, myself, and Shereen. That’s not always so, but Willa has stipulated that the results are to be kept private.”

  “Thank you,” Nisa said.

  “I do however, have a few questions for you, Arlo.”

  “Ask away,” Arlo said.

  “At what age did you first express your Lycanthropy?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Dr. Patterson raised his eyebrows. “Wow. A late bloomer. And which instinct surfaced first. Knowing can help me look for specific genetic markers.”

  “Prurience.”

  “Not amativity?” the doctor questioned.

  “No.” Arlo shifted in his seat. “My intimate and carnal instincts have only recently aligned.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dr. Patterson began typing. “That’s what I thought.”

  Shereen caught Nisa’s eye. She wasn’t sure what all this meant but it must have been good as Shereen was grinning and wagging her eyebrows. Nisa looked away and took a sip of her water.

  The doctor continued. “And you’re of Mexican descent, correct.”

  “Correct.”

  “But Willa is your aunt by blood?”

  “Yes, my mother was half-Hungarian. She and Willa share a father but had different mothers.”

  “And you’re thirty-two?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any history of genetic defects in your family or chromosomal abnormalities?”

  “Not that I know of. And both of my parents were Lycan as well.”

  “Interesting.” Dr. Patterson nodded. Then he brightened and pushed back from his desk. “Okay, I think were ready to get star
ted.”

  “All set over here!” Shereen chimed in. “Nisa, there are gowns in the bathroom right there. You can leave your bra and undies on. Dad just doesn’t want to get gunk on your clothes. Cute jeans. Citizens of Humanity?”

  “Umm, Universal Standard, I think.”

  “Cool! Arlo, while Nisa is changing, dad will take your blood.”

  Arlo gave Nisa’s arm a squeeze as she headed for the bathroom, and he headed for the exam table. Once inside, she pulled off her clothes, folded them neatly, and swapped them for a pale blue shift.

  When she stepped back out of the bathroom they were filling a vial with Arlo’s blood. Nisa watched as they removed the needle, and the needle mark healed and disappeared.

  Dr. Patterson and Shereen were quick and professional, the lively girl’s demeanor dialing down to calm once they started the procedure.

  The ultrasound was first—Arlo’s eyes becoming transfixed when the baby’s heartbeat came through the speaker. They then gave Nisa a local anesthetic, and she squeezed Arlo’s hand as they inserted the amniotic needle. Nisa watched as fluid swirled into the barrel of the syringe. Those few milliliters were about to change her future.

  The doctor handed the syringe to Shereen, then monitored the baby for a little while longer. Arlo kissed Nisa’s hand as the baby’s heartbeat continued going strong. Then he helped her sit up as Dr. Patterson perched on a nearby stool.

  “So far everything looks good. The results of the more intense genetic testing will take about a week or so, but we should have the results of the Lycanthropy and paternity tests by tomorrow.”

  “Wow,” Nisa said, “that soon?”

  “Yup!” Shereen said. She was back to her bubbly self. “This is part of dad’s specialty. He does the testing here, and those are the first two things he’ll look for.”

  “How are you feeling?” Dr. Patterson asked.

  “Fine,” Nisa said.

  “No cramping or discomfort?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Good. Just take it easy for the next couple of days. Don’t do anything too strenuous.” He’d looked pointedly at Arlo, then back to Nisa. “And drink lots of fluids.”

  Nisa walked back toward the bathroom to get changed. “Thank you, doctor. I will.”

  #

  They’d barely made it out of Dr. Patterson’s neighborhood before they’d pulled over to make out. Being done with the amnio was a relief. Now they were by the side of the road, necking like teenagers.

  Arlo’s hand was up Nisa’s shirt, pushing up her bra, while Nisa was rubbing his crotch through his jeans. They couldn’t have sex but she could definitely put his cock in her mouth. With that she wouldn’t even break a sweat.

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  Nisa and Arlo jolted apart to find three college-age students banging on the windows of the truck. “Get a room!” they yelled. Then they walked away laughing and patting each other on the back.

  Arlo rested his head against the rear window as Nisa straightened her clothes and slid back to her side of the seat. They couldn’t help but smile. Keeping their hands to themselves was going to be hard.

  Nisa turned to the side and pulled her knee underneath her chin. “I don’t want to go back to the house.”

  Arlo rolled his head in her direction. “Neither do I.”

  “Want to go have lunch and see a movie?”

  Arlo’s smile broadened until she could see both rows of his teeth. She loved it when he smiled like that. “Ya, I do.”

  She leaned in and kissed his lips. “Head east on Wilshire.”

  #

  Nisa and Arlo had a leisurely lunch on Fairfax, then walked to an old-timey movie theatre to catch an afternoon show. They’d started the movie with the best of intentions. But then Arlo began whispering to her in Spanish and things had quickly escalated. They’d stuck to kissing and touching—but a theatre employee had to ask them to leave before they noticed the movie was over.

  By then, it was after four. There was no point going back to Studio City when they had to be at Willa’s house at seven, so they went to Century City to do some shopping.

  Westfield Century City was an upscale, outdoor mall. While it had always been high-end, recent renovations had made it a destination. They strolled through the crowd with interlaced hands, occasionally stopping to make a purchase or look at baby furniture. Their nebulous cloud of hope was starting to solidify, and from it they would carve out the rest of their lives.

  Nisa pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “So, if Lycanthropy is a recessive gene, and our baby becomes a full-blown Lycan . . .”

  “As opposed to a half-blown Lycan?”

  Nisa punch Arlo’s arm. “As opposed to just a carrier, dork.”

  “Go on.” He laughed.

  “That would mean I have the gene too, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Actually, a lot of people have it. Or at least, enough to sustain our numbers. We have scientists that study this stuff. But from what I understand, as many as one in ten people could be carriers.”

  He hung his arm around Nisa’s neck, and they strolled to the next window. There was a stuffed giraffe inside taller than Arlo. A perfect fit for an animal-themed nursery.

  “Can’t you guys just . . . mate with each other and sustain your numbers that way?”

  Her awkwardness made Arlo smile. “You’re right. I should find someone furrier.”

  “If that’s what you’re into I can stop with the waxing.”

  “Awesome. The thicker the better.”

  “My bush too?”

  “Especially your bush.”

  They laughed and then walked to the next store in silence.

  “Seriously though, why not just have Lycan marry Lycan?”

  “Well, two Lycans mating is no guarantee that they’ll have Lycan offspring. Some Lycan children never express. And genetic diversity makes our gene pool stronger. Or so I’ve been told.”

  “But the kids who never express would still carry the gene from both parents. Can’t they just get bitten?”

  “They could.” Arlo looked thoughtful. “But again, it’s not a guarantee. Those transformations are rare and when they do happen they’re violent. The person who’s been turned is usually pretty volatile. At least for a while.”

  “They ‘wolf out’ right?”

  “Right.”

  “Is Leola . . . Lycan?”

  “She is.”

  It was a hard question for Nisa to ask but she’d wanted to know. She imagined Leola being like Willa—beautiful and strong and refusing to take any shit. That’s who Nisa wanted to be. Not just for herself, but for Arlo and their baby.

  “Leola’s no threat to you, you know?”

  “Do you still love her?”

  “Not like that. Not like I love you.”

  “So the answer is yes.”

  “Does part of you still love Shane?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I think you’re not being honest with yourself.”

  “I think you’re deflecting.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Nisa elbowed him in the rib cage. “Be serious.”

  “If you’re asking me if I still think about her sometimes and how she made me feel, then yes. She helped me discover parts of myself I didn’t know were there and, for a little while, she showed me that sex could be more than just getting off. But am I in love with her? No.”

  It was petty, but part of Nisa hated that woman. Maybe she’d feel differently if Arlo wasn’t still married to her, but he was. And as long as Leola was his wife, Nisa could only be his lover.

  “What do you say I buy you a dress for dinner?”

  “Are you gracefully changing the subject?” Nisa said.

  “That I am.”

  “Smart man.”

  CHAPTER Thirteen

  Willa and Callum lived in a large house in the heart of Beverly H
ills just minutes from the office. Unlike their Mill Valley and Malibu homes, this estate, though set back from the street, was on a main thoroughfare.

  Arlo’s truck looked out of place—an American relic rumbling up their driveway. Brakes squeaked, then he put it in park.

  “Let’s agree that we’ll leave if things get heated.”

  Nisa raised her eyebrows. “Is there something I need to know?”

  “It’s just . . . Lycans can be an interesting bunch. You’re supposed to be taking it easy today.”

  “Okay,” Nisa agreed. “If things get tense, we’ll bounce.”

  He turned off the engine, but made no move for the door.

  “Have I told you how amazing you look?”

  Nisa smiled and smoothed fabric. “Maybe twenty or so times.”

  He slid closer on the seat, his fingers tracing her inner thigh. His lips skimmed her ear.

  “I want to pull off your panties so I can taste you.”

  Nisa looked toward the front door to see if they’d been spotted, then her knees drifted apart until his fingers were brushing lace.

  “HEY!”

  Nisa jumped as Blake banged on the window. That was the second time today they’d been startled by voyeurs.

  “Those superior Lycan senses can’t keep people from sneaking up on us?”

  “Being with you makes it hard to focus.”

  “Come on you guys! I’m starving,” Blake said.

  She was wearing one of Nisa’s dresses—a strapless black number dotted with white skulls and crossbones. The marks on her shoulder now looked like grazes. Maybe in truth that’s all they’d ever been.

  Nisa opened the door and her feet slipped to the ground. “Kamusta, Blakey.”

  Blake kissed her on the cheek. “Kamusta, Nees. You guys look awesome. Like you should be in a magazine.”

  Arlo had bought Nisa a bias-cut wrap dress in seafoam green. It tied at the waist, which let her show off her baby bump. He’d also purchased gold hoops and gold sandals to go with it. And at Arlo’s request, she let her hair form a lion’s mane.

  For Arlo, they’d chosen dark grey slacks and a light denim shirt that on him looked tailor-made. He’d shaved that morning. But now, at well past six, his five o’clock shadow was making him look rugged.