by Brenna Lyons
“We would pay you to design a whole range of options for us, and we would employ our own staff to produce them—to your standards of course. You would have complete creative control. Every time one sells, you would get a commission from it.”
“Just your own products?” It was always best to know the scope of a new project.
“Not at all. There are human mates and human business partners our customers might want to purchase for. We would keep a store room of any products you add to the baskets, so they’ll be on hand when we need to make a basket.”
“Free reign? All the suppliers I usually work with?”
“Plus Spice Industries,” Joy reminded her. “Ideally, we would like to start with a minimum of about a hundred designs and add more seasonally.”
“That’s a huge undertaking,” Abby breathed.
“You could still run your own designs as well, but the anticipated earnings from this venture would more than make up for it, if you moved your existing client base over to the new system.”
“No. I do personal designs for them.”
Joy tipped her head.
Abby considered it. “It’s definitely close to what I’ve always wanted,” she conceded. “Staff to assemble the bulk designs and freedom to create personalized ones.”
“And a discount on all Spice products you want to use in your personalized designs,” Joy reminded her.
“Better than I’d anticipated then.”
“Is that an agreement?” Joy asked, seemingly excited at the prospect.
Bring out your businesswoman face. Abby smiled widely. “Send me a contract. I’d love to see the proposal.” Something told her it would be more than fair.
Epilogue
Seven months later
Abby led Michael off the shuttle, the toddler hopping on two feet at the end of his mother’s arm.
Doctor Rayn’s rich laughter lit his crinkled eyes. “Let me guess. He wasn’t doing that yesterday.”
One particularly hearty bounce nearly pulled Abby over on top of him, and she sighed. “I swear he went from cruising to walking to running nearly overnight.”
“Most Xxanian children do. Especially Dominants like your son.”
The young Dominant in question stopped short. Abby tipped her head down, intent on asking what was wrong.
Michael stood, one tiny foot raised, swiveling it back and forth. His blond head was bowed in serious consideration.
The first hop on his left foot was tentative. The next several were increasingly robust. He looked up at Abby and smiled widely, showing both his human incisors and canines and his Xxanian hunting teeth.
Abby offered a weary smile. “That’s good, Michael.”
Rayn’s Xxan was slow and smooth. “Come, young Dominant.”
Michael stopped hopping and stared at the doctor. He cocked his head to one side, hesitated a long moment, and released Abby’s hand. Hopping on his left foot, Michael reached Rayn’s side. He grasped the doctor’s hand, switched feet, and started testing his prowess on the right foot.
“Hauaa comes,” her son pronounced in Xxan. He’d quickly become bilingual and had started using both English and Xxan words within days of each other.
Abby sighed and trudged after them. Exhaustion weighed her down. Even with Gabe’s family running herd, keeping up with a Xxanian toddler was a full time job. Plus some. More than once in the last few months, she’d kicked herself that she’d ever believed she could do this alone.
Michael vaulted up on the far examination bed with the agility of a gymnast. Then he crumpled in that careless way children had.
Abby stopped beside the closer bed. It was tempting to climb up on it and take a nap while Michael had his appointment.
“Hauaa, watch!” Michael commanded, switching back to English again.
He jumped hard on the bed, two corpsmen bracketing their arms to catch him in case his fledgling muscle prowess failed him or he misjudged his position. Rayn stepped back and let Michael play, a smile curving his lips.
“That’s good, Michael,” she repeated. Encouraging children is necessary. Isn’t it?
Just watching him landing and rebounding made Abby’s head spin. She closed her hand around the safety bar on the edge of the bed.
“Abby?” Doctor Rayn inquired.
She looked up and met his gaze. The deep blue of his eyes was clear and crisp, but everything else was swimming and indistinct.
The pounding of Michael’s feet slowed, lengthened...and Abby’s heart rate seemed to slow to match it. Colors muted and then faded to sepia tones.
Michael went still, coiled in a crouch, his eye slits narrowing and his ridge plates extending. Movement came from every direction, and a fierce growl followed her into darkness.
****
Gabe rushed through changing his clothing. It had been a long shift, and he was more anxious than ever to see Abby and Michael.
They might not be home yet. Abby had said the check-up at SLAL would be “quick,” but there was still travel time to consider. Travel time and the overprotective SLAL doctors. Given the chance, Rayn could turn even a routine physical examination into a two-day event.
The fact that they might not be within the nest couldn’t dampen his spirits. His mate was happy, settled in the nest with the rest of his family. Her business had blossomed into a thriving endeavor. His son was flourishing, both physically and emotionally.
The s’sanuea left behind, Gabe padded through the nest, savoring the plants caressing his bare feet and the wind brushing against his face.
He’d made it nearly to the center nest when the taint of battle pheromones hit him solidly. His heart pumping the same into his own body, Gabe sprinted the rest of the way.
His seir and gran-seir snapped looks at him. Neither held weapons, but their scents said there was danger to the nest.
He scanned his gaze over the women lounging near the bathing pool. The fact that they were here said there was no imminent danger.
But Abby and Michael aren’t here. What if they are in danger? Visions of space pirates or anti-Xxan guerrillas raised his ridge plates. “What is it?” Gabe demanded in Xxan.
“Come,” his gran-seir ordered. He turned toward the tunnel that led to the elder’s shuttle.
“What has happened to my mate and son?”
His seir answered. “Abby is ill, and Michael will not allow the SLAL doctors to render aid to her. They prefer not to drug him to accomplish the task, and there is no reasoning with the child, so they called for us to remove the young Dominant before he injures more of their people.”
A series of human curses escaped Gabe’s mouth. Under normal circumstances, he might be concerned about his gran-seir’s reaction to the slip. The dual grunts of agreement attested that no one begrudged Gabe his reaction.
Aboard the shuttle, there were no wasted words. One moment, they were Earthbound, and the next, they were winging toward space at a reckless rate of speed.
Gabe winced, then reminded himself that Rayn would have warned the rangers on duty that a Xxanian medical emergency had been declared. Far short of stopping them, the military would give the incoming Xxanian vessel a wide berth and even clear traffic lanes for them.
That meant they made the usual forty-minute journey in less than half that time. The shuttle bay doors opened for them without the usual radio chatter, and Zhaahvan set the family shuttle down neatly on the pad next to a military model, most likely the same shuttle that had transferred Abby and Michel on board.
Gabe was out the door and halfway across the bay before one of the younger scientists appeared.
“This way,” he shouted. He turned and ran, knowing full well the Xxanian warriors behind him would more than keep pace.
They breached the doorway to a large exam room, Zhaahvan and Gabe abreast and his seir a few steps behind.
The scene stole Gabe’s breath. Abby lay on the floor, sprawled in a prone position, her head turned toward the doorway, a trickle o
f blood drying on her lower lip. Michael was squatted next to her, blood on the talons of his right hand and his chin.
Gabe and his gran-seir moved together, both advancing on the young Dominant. He turned toward them with a hiss. Only a heartbeat later, he straightened and reached for Gabe.
Zhaahvan scooped him up instead, and Gabe eased down next to Abby. At the first movement of the doctors, Michael growled and reached two handfuls of talons toward them. They stopped short, and Zhaahvan hummed soothing sounds to the toddler warrior.
“Abby?” Gabe called softly.
She didn’t move. He reached for her, stopped just shy of touching her, and looked up at Rayn. Having not witnessed what happened, he wasn’t certain it was safe to move her.
The doctor nodded. “Lift her onto the bed, please.” His gaze darted toward Zhaahvan. “Take Michael out, if you would.” Rows of liquid stitches on the doctor’s hand and arm explained Rayn’s hesitation at having Michael in the room.
It was typical of Rayn. He’d been the first one to Abby’s side. That meant he’d been the first to taste Michael’s fighting skills.
Gabe lifted Abby and turned her, wincing at the bruising on her face. The ruckus from behind him was impossible to mistake. Michael was intent on staying and was fighting to make that a reality.
“Hauaa!”
A grunt of pain said the toddler was in Brien’s hands and not in Zhaahvan’s.
“Seir! Hauaa!”
Gabe settled Abby on the examination bed. “Go with Gran-Seir, Michael,” he ordered.
It was a lost cause, of course. Michael was having none of it.
The growling from Zhaahvan brought the fight to an abrupt halt. Gabe glanced back, slightly surprised to see his seir bleeding from deep furrows in his arm.
Michael had given up the fight and clung to Brien, his eyes wide, wild, and locked on the elder.
Zhaahvan offered sharp sounds of correction, then switched to speech. “Your Hauaa needs doctors now. You will sit on that bed.” He motioned to the empty but rumpled bed across the room. “You will allow the doctors to aid your Hauaa. I will sit with you. If Hauaa needs protection, your seir and I will attend to it. Understood?”
A meek nod was Michael’s only reply. Zhaahvan scooped Michael from his son’s arms and jerked his head toward the far corridor.
Doctors for his injuries. As always, the elder protected his entire family, young and old, male and female.
That thought shot Gabe’s attention back to Abby.
Rayn and his staff were already hard at work around her. They spaced themselves around Gabe. None of them asked him to move; they knew that wouldn’t happen. With his mate at risk, Gabe wasn’t about to leave her side.
One of the younger males worked at the bruising on her face, healing the damage with the wand locked between trembling fingers. Another operated the scan plate and read off the status of every area of her body to Rayn, as it glided downward.
Though he wanted to know what had happened, Gabe didn’t interrupt them. It was more important that Abby be cared for than his desire to know be slaked.
The running litany stopped abruptly. Everyone around the table looked up, including Gabe.
“What is it?” Gabe demanded before Rayn could.
“She’s...uh... She’s carrying. That’s why she...” He motioned up and down at Abby.
He didn’t need to be more specific. Abby had collapsed. The unexpected event and the doctors’ reactions to it would have confused and unnerved Michael.
I did tell him to protect his mother. Seir-God help me, I never thought that would backfire on us.
Rayn didn’t waste time. “You all know the procedures. Tim, you were here for Abby’s last pregnancy. We have a head start this time. Let’s not waste it.”
The medical team scattered, unnerving Gabe. They knew the procedures. He, on the other hand, had no clue what would be involved in his mate’s care.
Rayn stopped short in the process of strapping a band to Abby’s wrist. He stared at Gabe for a moment, then went back to work and started speaking.
“She has to stop nursing Michael. We’ll give her an injection to dry her milk quickly and painlessly.” He nodded toward the head of the bed.
Gabe turned, gaping at the sight of a female medic expressing Abby’s milk. What in the Seir-God’s name is this?
Rayn continued. “We don’t dare do this for long. It’s a damned miracle that expressing for Michael hasn’t sent her into a premature labor already, considering Abby’s condition.
“Jude will take just enough to allow us to synthesize milk for Michael. Over the next few months, we’ll start cutting Spice Industries formula into the milk, so he’ll wean from the synthesized milk before he has to change formulations.” He shot a look at Jude. “Try...formula three, for a start. That should be about right for him.”
Gabe’s head spun at the complexity of the situation. “Can Abby come home, or must she stay here?” She’d stayed at SLAL for most of Michael’s pregnancy, he knew.
Tim returned with a tray of medications. “Using Michael’s pregnancy as a guide? I’d say she’ll probably be safe at your nest for the next month and a half, since she’ll have family members to watch over her. After that, a nest here would be best.”
Gran-Seir cut in with his opinion. “I will order scentless plants to be delivered tonight. The sooner we infuse them with our nest scent and transport them here, the better.”
Gabe nodded his agreement and continued. “What can she do? Or not? Can she...?” He stopped short of asking something as crass and selfish as whether or not she could have sex with him while she carried. If expressing milk was too strenuous an activity for her, surely sex was.
Tim and Rayn locked gazes, twin smiles on their faces. Tim chuckled and went back to filling a hypo.
Rayn answered for them. “Moderate sexual relations may actually help.”
Gabe sighed, shooting a glance at his gran-seir. The old buck wasn’t going to like a further delay in their plans to mate, but if Gabe’s young and Abby depended on such a delay, it couldn’t be avoided.
Rayn’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”
Better to say it than leave it unsaid. “We’d planned to mate when Abby was done nursing, but I guess that will have to—”
“Oh, no,” Tim interrupted him. “In fact, the biological changes that binding will cause in Abby may make carrying this time easier. As long as it is accomplished gently, and she’s monitored while you bind...” He tapped the band on Abby’s arm. “That may be the single best thing you can do to help her deliver a healthy young one.”
Inappropriate as it might be, Gabe’s body reacted to the news and hardened. If the doctors noticed it, they hid it well.
“As for the rest...” Rayn intoned. “There will be some things Abby cannot do, but those are concerns for a month from now.”
****
Abby came to consciousness slowly, confused by conflicting sensations. She was in a bed, but it clearly wasn’t her bed in Zhaahvan’s nest. She was wearing something made of silk, which further indicated she wasn’t in her own bed. While she wore a S’suuhhea in the center nest and satellite nests, even for sleep, she and Gabe slept nude in the human-style bedroom on the level above.
A roll of her head from side to side on the pillow was enough to convince her she was in a bed at SLAL...but not a hospital bed. It was probably the bedroom she’d used when she was pregnant with Michael.
I’m at SLAL. Still at SLAL. The last coherent memory she had was bringing Michael up for his one-year physical. But what happened to land her in a bed, hooked up to monitoring, was a mystery to her.
Michael. She opened her eyes and shot to sitting, scanning the room for her son.
A soothing rumble reached her a moment before Gabe’s arms wrapped around her. She relaxed into his hold. If Gabe was here, Michael was most likely with his family. That meant he was safe, and she could certainly use the rest.
Obviously. The
re was little doubt that she’d passed out. Time to build more sleep into the schedule. Of course, that would be easier if Michael slept more.
“Better?” Gabe asked.
Abby snuggled into his shoulder and turned on the bed to wrap herself around him. “It is now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were fatigued?”
She yawned. “Keeping up with our son makes that SOP. I can’t imagine how people manage with more than one, especially Xxanian families.”
There was a tense moment of silence. Abby opened her eyes and looked up into Gabe’s stony face.
“What is it?” Had something happened to Michael? Her heart pounded in outright fear.
“You did say you’d always dreamed of a big family, right?”
“Well, yes. But I always knew that was—”
His raised eyebrow stopped her short.
“Isn’t...it?” Oh. Shit. One of the reasons Rayn hadn’t let her stay at home alone when she was pregnant with Michael was that there was no one to watch over her and get her help if she collapsed. Keeping up with a Xxanian child isn’t the only thing that causes this level of fatigue. Carrying one does, too.
She’d been due for another pregnancy block shot today. Had it worn off early? She would have to ask Rayn that question.
Gabe’s voice dragged her back to the present.
“You know how I feel about this, but if you feel you can’t—”
Abby smacked him on the chest hard enough to make the sound reverberate through the room. “Never suggest such a thing.”
His smile was slow coming but wide enough to show his hunting teeth. It was a rare indulgence for a Xxanian male, she’d found. “Well then...There are some things we should attend to.”
She let her head drop to his chest. “Let me guess...Doctors Rayn and Carew are already putting the brakes on everything I do.”
Gabe eased down to the mattress with her nestled to his shoulder. “Only a few things. They’ve moved Michael to synthesized breast milk and Spice formula.”