"Yeah."
"Peach, I think. Mallory Peach."
"Well, I hope she comes back soon," Jordan said, adamantly. "Otherwise we'll have to take her to the nursery just so she'll have something to do."
"No!" Darla screamed, suddenly on her feet. She raced to Jordan and wrapped around his leg like a monkey. "You. Don't. Leave. Me." she said, fiercely.
"I'd stay with you, sweetie," he told her. "I don't ever have to leave you alone again."
"Promise!"
"I promise."
"Okay." She released his leg and flopped backward on the floor, suddenly remembering to be bored.
A knock at the door made her shoot to her feet once more and race to it, flinging it open with a grin.
"Oh," she said, disappointed. "No Peaches."
"Sorry to bother you, sirs," the guard said. "But Alpha Prime has requested your presence in his quarters. All three of you."
Jeffery and Jordan shared a look, but they followed. Darla had already skipped out the door, singing a made-up song about Grandpa Prime. Jordan worried that she'd grown too attached to the old man. He didn't want her to mourn his inevitable and imminent death. The guard brought them down to the royal floor and through several doors, into the Alpha's bedchamber. He looked strong, even on the brink of death, Jordan thought. It could have been a mirage, an effect of his frozen half-form, but Jordan didn't believe it. The Alpha's strength came from his character.
"Grandpa Prime!" Darla sang, jumping onto his bed without reservation.
He smiled and curled an arm around her as she snuggled into his shoulder.
"Thank you for coming," the Alpha said, his voice raspy. "At the end of everything, you need your family. Jeffery. I wanted to tell you... you've always made me proud. I knew that Alex wasn't a natural Alpha. I knew it, just as Jordan knew you weren't a natural Upsilon. I wanted to believe it, but he found his way in spite of me. I'm sorry for the pain it caused you. He always loved you, you know. You frightened him, I think. Your strength, your passion... bits of himself that he hadn't yet found. I like to believe that, in the end, he found his place." Steel nuzzled Darla's hair and sighed. "I have always been proud of the good you do. Your tenacity. Your dedication to our people. I couldn't have asked for a more suitable Omega Prime for my people, and I am proud to call you family."
"Thank you, Steel," Jeffery said, in a voice just above a whisper.
"Jordan. You have proved yourself to be capable in every way that matters. Your priorities. Your wisdom. Your willingness to put your life on the line to save your people. The world is changing; of that, you were right. I believe you will be far more able than I ever would be to navigate the new wave of human evolution. Thank you, for loving my son at the end of his life. You've done a right decent job of raising this little girl." Steel collapsed into a coughing fit, and Jordan offered him a glass of water. He waved it away, forcing his spasm under control through sheer force of will. "I have no doubt," he continued, once he'd recovered. "That you will do an equally admirable job of leading our people. It is my pleasure, and my honor, to pass their care on to you. I've left the council with instructions on how I was intending to proceed with all open projects. They are not set in stone. If you feel my judgement is faulty, pass your own, with my blessing."
"Thank you, Steel," Jordan said, his own voice trembling.
"Now Darla," Steel said. "I want you to know that you are loved. You are precious. You will always be protected, until the time comes for you to protect those who are weaker than you. You understand?"
"Yes, Grandpa Prime. Love you too!"
"Good," Steel said, with a weak smile. "How 'bout telling your old Grandpa Prime a bedtime story? It's about time for me to take that rest we talked about."
"Okay, Grandpa," she said, happily. "Once upon a time, there is a girl who a princess. Name Darla Steel-Hacker. She like pink, and princesses, and swords. She keeped Wolfie safe from bad guys and scary hel... hel... scary sky flippers. She sleeped with her Wolfie every night. Then, one day, Grandpa Prime made her go to the nurs'ry place with the babies. The babies smelled yuck, but they was cute, so was okay. She missded her daddy, but daddy couldn't come. So Grandpa Prime came instead. He readed the stories the right way, and even made stories with his mouf the way daddy do. He was soft like a wolf and tall like my daddy, and he knowed all the bestest stories. Darla loved her Grandpa Prime. One day, Grandpa Prime telled her that he had to go sleep. That he sleeped for ever and ever. But it would be fine, because when he sleeped, he would dream of Princess Darla. And they all lived happily ever after. The end. Did you like that story, Grandpa Prime?"
Steel didn't answer. Jordan rushed to his side and placed his hand on his chest. Ice formed in his throat and then melted, spilling out of his eyes. He scooped Darla up and held her close.
"Oh," Darla whispered. "Grandpa Prime sleeping. He not wake up. He happily ever aftering."
"Yes he is," Jordan said, kissing her head as tears slid down his cheeks. "Yes, he most certainly is."
They left the room, and Jordan carried Darla to the elevator. Jeffery whispered the news to the guard, who immediately fell to his knees and began to sob. Jeffery didn't know quite what to do, but he was rescued moments later when the other guards came to investigate the cries. Jeffery hurried after Jordan and Darla, slipping in the elevator just before it closed. The ride back up to the room was subdued. Grief settled over the two men slowly, like a soft, heavy snowfall. Darla seemed lost in thought, and uncharacteristically calm. They found their way back to their new apartment with very little trouble (it was the only one around with a pink door), and were surprised to see Mallory Peach and a team of Taus unloading crates.
"Heavens, dears, you look simply dreadful. Come on, squeeze on past. Oh I was hoping to be finished before you came back up, but I suppose... anyway, it doesn't matter, just sit yourselves right down and I'll fix you a plate of something."
Numb and overwhelmed, the three of them sat, cuddled up on the couch. They watched as their new home slowly filled with toys and books, food, dishes, flatware, sheets and towels, soaps and bubble bath and everything they could possibly need. The Taus worked efficiently and satisfactorily, organizing immaculately as they unloaded. Jordan sighed with relief when they brought in a little Wi-Fi-enabled television. Darla could have her cartoons back after all. They were finished in under an hour and, when they were done, Mallory plopped three plates heaped with food on the table.
"Soup's on, boys," she chortled. "Eat up! Gonna need your strength over the next few months. Years, maybe. I've never seen an Alpha succession before, this is so exciting!"
She clapped her hands and blew them kisses as she backed out of the door. Jordan looked at the delicious food, but found he had no appetite. She was right. The next few months were going to be absolute hell.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Jordan was right. The next few months were chaos, but he quickly discovered that it was the sort of chaos in which he thrived. Problems needed solving, and between him, Jeffery, and the council members, they were able to get a great many of them solved. Three months after Steel's death, the groundwork had been laid for Jordan to make a statement to the press. They had already had meetings with mayors, governors, and senators, and they had met with the higher branches of human government. Jordan was expecting a visit from the President of the United States as well as Canada's Prime Minister and the President of Mexico over the next six months. Those meetings didn't bother him much. What did bother him was the idea of standing up in public and addressing a crowd.
Jeffery, whose belly had begun to grow round, was more supportive than he could have hoped for. If there was one thing Jeffery understood, it was anxiety. He helped Jordan choose a blue suit that set off his green eyes, and was brushing it free of lint while Jordan stood looking at himself in the hotel mirror.
"The speech isn't good enough," Jordan said.
"Yes it is," Jeffery told him. "The speech is fine. It would have to be, after
spending three months working on it. The council approves, I approve, and most importantly, you were completely happy with it last night. This is your nerves talking."
"Well, they need to stop it," Jordan grumbled. "If this adrenaline keeps up, I'm going to wind up accidentally demonstrating my point."
"Yeah, don't do that," Jeffery said. "These are American humans. They have guns."
"We haven't told anyone about the silver thing, have we?"
Jeffery shook his head. "Most of them know the lore, but unless we confirm they won't know whether or not it's true."
Jordan nodded. "Good. I don't feel like getting assassinated my first day out."
"It's going to be fine," Jeffery said. "Trust yourself."
"I do trust myself," Jordan said. "It's people I don't trust."
"Then trust your Deltas," Jeffery said, firmly. "They're out there guarding the stage, and I've got a bunch in street clothes in the audience. You're going to be fine."
That knowledge did comfort him. His Deltas had proved themselves to be formidable the day they raided Montague's territory. The influx of new shifters had strained the colony to its breaking point, but they had quickly adjusted. Most of Montague's people were just like Shania; scared and running to whatever made the most sense. Some of the Deltas had been loyal to the end, but they had received no training. The Oregon police had been the worst of the bunch. They'd shot up the Deltas, wounding them severely before they were put down. Jordan's Deltas survived. Montague's didn't. They had stayed in the infirmary for weeks, shifting back and forth as often as they were able, while the nurses kept them on low doses of pain meds. Just enough to take the edge off, not enough to interfere with the natural healing abilities. Jordan was proud to have these brave shifters as his allies.
"Time to go," Jeffery said, kissing him firmly. "Good luck."
Jordan touched his forehead to Jeffery's; a gesture which had naturally developed into the fiber of their relationship. Then he squeezed his hands, and stepped out the door. He was flanked by Deltas in the hall and down to the stage, where they took a step back and to the side. Just far enough to show trust without having to actually trust anyone in the audience. Jordan took a deep breath and shuffled his papers, then looked out over the sea of faces. They were nervous, curious, resentful faces. Jordan didn't know if there was anything he could say to alleviate that, but he was going to try.
"My human neighbors," he began. "Over the last several months, you have heard rumors about Werewolves. Terrifying rumors. I'm here today to give you the straight, honest truth. Yes, Shifters... Werewolves... exist. Some live alongside humans; many of us keep to ourselves. The little girl in the viral video is in no danger. She is happy, healthy, and home with her family.
"Shifters are big on family," he continued. "And as far as I'm concerned, our family extends to our human cousins. Which is why we are doing everything in our power to keep you safe. Yes, humans can be turned by Werewolves. That rumor was accurate. However!" He raised his voice and one hand, trying to stop the sudden explosion of anxious chatter. The crowd quieted. "However. Shifter law states that a Werewolf who desires to turn a human must first gain the human's permission; introduce that human to the high council; and then that human is put through a battery of tests, and fully educated about what it means to become a Werewolf. Breaking this law is punishable by death, in some cases. Specifically cases involving children. We thoroughly police our own.
"Recently, we had a situation with a rogue Werewolf. He came from outside and tried to change the way we work. The way we live. He tried to start a free-for-all human hunt." Gasps rose through the crowd and he held up his hand again. "He didn't succeed. I put him down myself, with my own hands. He is no longer a threat to your people or mine. However," Jordan indicated to one of the Deltas, and an image popped up on the wall behind him. "These twenty-eight men and women were, and remain, loyal to Montague and his poisonous ideology. The Shifter community as a whole is asking for your help. If you see any of these people, do not engage. There is a phone number you can call to have the Shifter taken care of. All we need is a location, and our people will handle it swiftly and efficiently.
"If you are uncomfortable calling the Shifters, you may also contact the police. They will then contact us. Either way, if you see any of these people, remove yourself from the situation as quickly and completely as you can; make the call; and do not go back until you have received the all-clear.
"My sworn duty as Alpha Prime is to protect my people and yours. From each other; and, more importantly, from ourselves. Thank you for receiving me here today. Any questions will go through Omicron Prime, Mr. Bates. Thank you."
The chatter exploded again as he bowed and left the stage, escorted by his guards. He was trembling and sweating, but he felt accomplished. Jeffery met him in the hallway and held him tight, kissing him firmly.
"You did good," Jeffery said, his eyes twinkling. "You did real good."
"Now we wait," Jordan said, nervously. "Think they'll accept it?"
"You saw the analysis same as I did," Jeffery reminded him. "Taking action now sets the wheels in motion for full Shifter acceptance by 2083. That's nothing; it's a long weekend. We're gonna make it, babe."
Jordan squeezed his hand. Yes, he thought. They were going to make it.
Jeffery had taken to his Omega duties like a fish to water. Every skill he'd ever acquired, every experience he'd ever had, had prepared him for this. He still worked with the Outreach once a week to oversee the implementation of new policies regarding humans, but most of his time was spent taking care of his household and acting as a sounding board for Jordan. He usually enjoyed it. One morning though, eight months after they had come to the colony, he was aggravated from the moment he woke up. He snapped at Jordan for asking him questions before breakfast, and didn't seem to have the patience to read Darla more than one story. He didn't know what was wrong. He just knew that he was tired and his back hurt and he couldn't seem to get enough to eat.
"I'm taking you to the doctor," Jordan said, when Jeffery had snapped at him for a third time. "I recognize this."
"Taking me to the doctor for a crappy mood? What the hell, Jordan?"
"Watch your mouth," Jordan said firmly, nodding at Darla. "Yeah, I am. Because a drastic mood shift at eight or nine months means more than a bad night's sleep. Come on, I'll grab your things."
Jeffery grumbled, but he went along. Darla held his hand, chattering at Wolfie as they made their way through the labyrinthine colony. He'd only taken five steps before a flash of pain dropped him to his knees.
"Jordan," he gasped.
"Caddie!" Darla screamed. "Caddie, okay?"
He wanted to answer, but his breath was gone. Sweat dripped from his forehead, pocking the dirt floor. Jordan was beside him in a flash, lifting him to his feet. He called the guards over, and one of them took Jeffery's other side while one scooped Darla up, and a third raced for the elevator. He held it open as the group shuffled inside. Pain struck again, and Jeffery cried out. It was like turning, he thought. It was like turning all over again. Fear mingled with the pain, and he was gasping for breath by the time they made it to the doctor. As they struggled through the door, Jordan shouted for assistance.
"Oh goodness!" the bubbly receptionist said. She pulled a wheelchair out of an adjacent room, and helped Jeffery get settled into it. Sitting was exactly the wrong thing to do. Pain sliced him from sternum to anus, and he cried out.
"Daddy? Prince Jeffy dying?" Darla asked, her eyes wide.
"No, baby," Jordan said.
Bullshit, Jeffery thought. "Jeffery is about to have a baby. Can you go wait in the nursery for me?"
Darla nodded, but ran over to Jeffery before she went with the guard. She put her little hands on his face, turning it up to meet her strong brown eyes.
"Don't. Die." She told him firmly. "Promise."
"I promise," Jeffery gasped, forcing a smile. "I promise, princess."
She nodded and
kissed his forehead, then trotted off with the guard. The doctor had arrived, and was leading them to the very back room. It was large and cool and dim, and Jeffery was happy to see it. There was a wide hospital bed, but also a hot tub and an oversized, saucer-shaped bean bag. He hoisted himself out of the wheelchair and crawled toward the bean bag.
"Looks like you're progressing pretty rapidly," the doctor said, after a brief examination. "When did this start?"
"Twenty minutes ago?" Jeffery asked.
The doctor looked up at Jordan for confirmation, and he shook his head.
"Groaning in his sleep since three a.m.; irritable all morning," he said.
She nodded briskly and peeled Jeffery out of his clothes. He wanted to shift. He wanted to shift so badly, but he was afraid.
"Will it hurt the baby?" he gasped between contractions. "If I... oh, God..."
He was rendered mute by a contraction, but the doctor answered his unspoken question.
"Shifting will not hurt the baby," she told him, firmly. "Do exactly what your body is telling you to do."
Relieved, Jeffery rippled into his wolf form. After that, everything picked up speed. The contractions lessened in intensity, and his new form made it easy to curl into them without messing with the birth canal. Several pushes later, the doctor caught a bloody, squalling nine-pound ball of angry shifter. The nurses stepped in then, cleaning him up, massaging his belly, lifting him up to strip the waterproof barrier off of the bean bag and replace it, then set him back down. A wondrous feeling washed over him, swirled through him like magic. When the baby was placed at his seeping breast, all memory of pain was washed away by an overwhelming love.
"It's a boy," the doctor said, quietly. "We'll leave you alone to get to know each other."
The doctor and nurses left the room, and Jordan curled up on the bean bag beside his astonishing Omega and their fuzzy, pointy-eared newborn. His eyes were closed, and he kneaded with his tiny, clawed hands against Jeffery's breast. A few moments later the door opened, and Darla crept in, her eyes wide as saucers.
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