Forever Midnight

by Kate Hill

  He trembled under her and suddenly she felt his body shake and pulse as his orgasm wrenched through him, and he let out a long, low, shuddering breath. Piper licked the hard, slick clit until Trey pushed her away, then, chuckling, lifted herself along Trey’s transformed body to mouth his breasts, suckling at the thick nipples, laughing as he closed his woman’s eyes and smiled in contentment.

  “Should I change back?” he asked, his woman’s voice soft and husky.

  Piper considered, then set back to work laving the soft, round breasts. It was comforting, warm.

  “Not yet.”

  He smiled, and closed his eyes.

  * * * * *

  He brought her breakfast later, a tray with poached eggs and toast, segmented oranges, a bowl of grapes. She could smell the coffee brewing in the other room, the rich odor filling the bedroom. Closing her eyes, she drew in the scent.

  He approached the bed with the food. He was Trey again, broad-shouldered and masculine. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes. I knew you’d want it.”

  “I always want coffee.”

  She adjusted the tray as he set it in her lap. He slid back into the bed beside her, smiling, then took a handful of grapes out of the bowl.

  “Two years,” he said. “It doesn’t feel like that long.”

  “But it feels like forever, too, in a way.”

  He nodded. “I can barely remember what it was like not to have you with me.”

  Tears prickled her eyes, and she found herself at a loss for words. She could remember what it had been like before. She had been broken, still mourning Billy’s death, even blaming herself for it. Then Trey had come into her life, wearing Billy’s face, and changed everything.

  She picked up a piece of orange and nibbled at it, blinking back her tears. She wasn’t sure why she was crying. Maybe just because she was happy, but something mournful seemed to have come to life in the middle of her chest. Something empty.

  Trey bent toward her, studying her face. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just…post coitum triste, maybe.”

  He smiled a little, running a hand over her hair. “I see.”

  She bit into the piece of orange and the juice ran down her chin. Laughing, Trey bent forward, just as she lifted a hand to intercept the drips. He won the race, his mouth covering her chin seconds before her hand made it there. His tongue laved her, cleaning her face, and she couldn’t help returning his soft laughter.

  “I love you,” she said, pushing back the small, sad thought that had risen in the back of her mind.

  “I love you, too,” he said, and kissed her gently.

  Chapter Two

  The next day was Sunday morning, and Piper took advantage of the fact by staying in bed, blissfully tucked under a warm blanket. Trey had gotten out of bed an hour or so earlier, and she could hear him puttering in the other room.

  Alone in the bed, she closed her eyes and let herself think. Allowed herself to dive down, into that emptiness in her chest, to discover what it was. Although she already knew. She had just hidden it, forced herself not to acknowledge it.

  She wanted a child. A baby with Trey’s blue eyes, his humor, his smile. But those things weren’t really Trey’s. He didn’t own them—they had invented them together. And even if that were not the case, he was incapable of giving her a child.

  She had known this, of course. He’d explained it to her before they had gotten married. He could not father a child with a human woman—only with another shapeshifter. She knew this and had told him it was all right, but it some ways it wasn’t, and now it had begun to weigh on her.

  Stupid, she thought. With everything they had—the love, the beauty they shared in bed and out, the small moments when they were so deeply connected it could feel like sex even when it wasn’t—with all that, why was she pining for a baby? Especially when she knew full well she couldn’t have one. Not by him, in any case.

  It would pass. Eventually, her heart, mind and body would all catch up to each other, and she would be able to put the longing aside. It was a natural thing, hormones maybe, affecting her emotions. It would pass.

  In the living room, the phone rang. Twice, three times, then she heard Trey answer it. She took a long, deep breath and sat up. She should get up and get dressed.

  She was pulling on her sweater when Trey came into the bedroom, quiet, an oddly sober expression on his face.

  “What is it?” Her first thought was that someone had died. She couldn’t imagine who—they didn’t know that many people. Unless it was someone in the shapeshifter community…

  She forced the thought away as Trey bent in to kiss her softly. “Just something we need to talk about.” He smiled a little. “Come on into the kitchen. I’ll make you breakfast.”

  * * * * *

  Trey placed a pancake on Piper’s plate, then handed her the butter tray. She was waiting, patiently, he knew, for him to talk to her, but he wanted to wait until she was at least settled over her breakfast. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea. Maybe he should have told her straight out, without delaying it.

  He’d known this day would come the moment he’d realized how thoroughly in love with her he had fallen. It had been inevitable. More so when he’d been made the leader of the shapeshifter community, because an even greater onus had been placed upon him when he had shouldered that responsibility. But it couldn’t be helped. And Piper knew—he hadn’t hidden the facts from her.

  But the look on her face right now worried him. She was quiet, a little withdrawn, and he saw sadness in her eyes. He wondered what she’d been thinking about before he’d come into the bedroom.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, her voice soft, as she spread butter over the pancakes. It melted, golden, into the smooth surface, dripped down onto the plate.

  “Yeah. It’s all right. I just have to talk to you about something.”

  She looked up, frowned, then blinked. “The phone call?”

  “Yes.”

  Her fingers curled around her fork and she lifted it, staring at it. “It was one of them, wasn’t it? They need you.”

  “Yes. There’s been a request.”

  “Do you have to honor it?”

  “The woman is of high rank, and has been through an approval process that takes a considerable amount of time. I can’t deny her, not given the rank I have now.”

  Piper smiled sadly. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  He frowned, saying nothing. She didn’t understand—there really was no way she could. He hadn’t faced this situation before, himself. So even he didn’t quite understand.

  “We knew it was coming,” Piper went on. She seemed to be trying to reassure him. Ironic, he thought. It seemed he should be taking that role with her. This was his world, after all, impinging on the peacefulness they had built here together.

  “Yes, we did. We knew it would happen eventually.”

  “It’ll be all right,” he said. “I’ll be sure you’re all right.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not sure how you can guarantee that.”

  “I can’t. I’ll do my best.”

  Reaching across the table, she laid a hand on his. “I can’t ask for anything more.”

  * * * * *

  The Binghams’ house was small, but in a nice neighborhood. Red brick, with white doors, and a small but very green lawn. It seemed homey to Piper, and that made her glad.

  She forced that thought back. She didn’t want to feel glad, or at home, or anything of the sort. She just wanted to get through the next couple of hours without falling apart.

  Trey knocked on the door. Piper slipped her hand into his as they waited, then wished she hadn’t. Somehow touching him made her misgivings even harder to bear. He squeezed her hand, undoubtedly trying to reassure her. It didn’t help.

  The woman answered the door. She was shorter than Piper, with hair a rich, burnished gold. Her face was round, her blue eyes
uptilted, elfin. Piper wanted to be able to say she could sense something about her, something that told her she wasn’t human, but it wasn’t true. She’d lived with a shapeshifter for two years now; she should be able to discern these things. But she couldn’t. Nothing about the woman indicated she was anything other than human. In her meticulously realistic construction of her appearance, she had even manufactured smile lines.

  “Trey,” she said. Her voice was light, with a little bit of smoke to it. “Piper. Thank you for seeing us.” She held her hand out to Piper. “I’m Nadia Bingham.”

  Piper took the small hand, though reluctantly. “Nice to meet you.”

  Nadia smiled a little, then turned to Trey. She seemed more hesitant to shake his hand, but still held hers out. Trey took it.

  God, could this be any more awkward? Piper wondered.

  Of course it could.

  “Come in and meet Brice,” said Nadia, and Trey nodded.

  Piper followed the others into the house. Small but homey inside, just like the outside. The smell of cinnamon filled the front room. Potpourri, she thought. It smelled too natural to be air freshener.

  Brice emerged from the kitchen with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a smile. He was about Trey’s height, but slim, leaner, with knife-edge cheekbones and startlingly blue eyes. His dark hair curled against the collar of his casual chambray shirt.

  “Hi,” he said. “I’m Brice. Nice to meet you.”

  He shook Trey’s hand, then Piper’s. Piper made herself smile at him. She couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about the situation.

  “I’m really glad you came,” he went on, and he sounded genuinely enthusiastic. “We’ve been waiting for a long time.”

  Trey nodded. “I know. Three years.”

  “Why did it take so long?”

  With a wry smile, Trey reached for a mini-bagel. “I have to blame the previous administration.”

  Nadia gave a sober nod. “Not a good situation, that.”

  “No.”

  Piper nodded. The situation had been very bad, in fact, and had nearly cost Trey his life. But, in the end, it had brought them together.

  And it had brought them here. Piper took a slow, careful breath, trying to collect herself.

  Nadia seemed to sense her mood. “Why don’t you two have a seat? Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Iced tea?” Piper felt ridiculous. She wished they would just get to the point. They could pussyfoot around it all night, and it wouldn’t change anything.

  Nadia nodded. She took a step toward the kitchen, then turned back. “I know this is difficult. It’s been difficult for us, too. We’ll work it out, I promise.”

  Piper smiled a little, watching Nadia go to the kitchen. She seemed nice enough. Piper hoped she was right.

  Brice put the tray of food down on the coffee table and took a seat in a recliner opposite Piper. “I know this probably all seems very sudden to you.”

  “I knew it would happen, at some point. Probably more than once.”

  Brice nodded. “The approval procedure is extensive and time-consuming. We were beginning to wonder if it would ever go through, especially after the…changes.”

  Piper had never thought to wonder how the events of two years ago might have affected anyone other than herself and Trey. Of course there had been the gathering of the shapeshifter community, and she’d realized there were others who would be affected, but not on this kind of personal level. To have waited so long for an approval to have a baby, then to have something change so drastically in the hierarchy…

  “It must have come as a horrible shock,” she offered.

  “Yes. We were optimistic, even though we knew things were deteriorating, but we were very much afraid we might have to start over.”

  Piper looked at Trey, remembering numerous phone calls, trips to Australia, in the earlier days of their marriage.

  “That didn’t seem fair to me,” he said. “Though it was suggested on more than one occasion, that everyone in pending approval be backed up, and the whole process started over. There was some concern that Mesharet might have skewed the process.”

  Brice frowned. “He didn’t, did he?”

  “Not that I could tell.”

  Piper wondered what criteria Mesharet might have used. His ideas of racial superiority had led to most of the troubles, so she imagined that particular train of thought had entered into considerations of procreation, as well. Then she couldn’t help but wonder what criteria Trey might have used. This was the first time a woman had been approved to have a child since Trey had come into his leadership position. Why her? Had he made judgments, himself? Picked her because she appealed to him?

  She pushed that thought back. They were shapeshifters. Physical attractiveness meant nothing—they could take on any form they chose. Still, a shapeshifter mated to a human was more likely, as she understood it, to adopt a semi-permanent form, much as Trey had. Maybe this Nadia face had sparked a spark—

  Nadia returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray of iced teas. She set the tray on the table next to the hors d’oeuvres, then picked up a glass and handed it to Piper. Piper took it.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Nadia took a seat in the chair next to her husband. “So. This is incredibly awkward.”

  Piper laughed, surprising herself. “Yes, it is.”

  “Maybe we should just cut to the chase, then,” said Brice. “Trey, sir, I’d like you to do me the honor of sleeping with my wife.”

  There was a moment of silence, then suddenly Piper laughed. The surge of relief surprised her. If they all had a sense of humor, maybe this would go more smoothly than she’d thought.

  Brice turned toward her, his mouth twitching nearly into a smile. “With your express and carefully worded permission, of course.”

  “Of course,” said Piper. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Quietly, Nadia cleared her throat. “Actually, there was one other thing we wanted to mention.”

  The silence fell again, taut and uncomfortable. Piper carefully set her iced tea back down on the table. “What’s that?”

  “Well…” Nadia began, stopped, then began again. “We know that you’re in a similar situation, Piper. I mean, in that you can’t have a child with Trey. We thought…we thought perhaps we might offer to help with that.”

  Piper’s eyes widened. The thought had never occurred to her. Of course, she’d thought often about the fact she couldn’t have Trey’s children. She’d also thought about the inevitability of his being called essentially to do stud service to another shapeshifter. But this… This hadn’t even crossed her mind.

  “You mean—” She broke off, at a loss as to how to voice the thought.

  “That’s right,” said Nadia, smiling. “I’m offering you Brice’s sperm.”

  Piper looked at Trey. Trey seemed surprised, as well.

  “We hadn’t discussed this as a possibility,” he said.

  “I thought you might not have.” Nadia set her own glass back down and rubbed her small hands together as if to warm them. “It seemed fair, though, to us.”

  Before she realized what she was doing, Piper brushed her fingers over her stomach. “I…I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” She glanced at Brice. He was an attractive man. But maybe they had something else in mind…

  “There are options,” Brice put in, almost as if he’d read her mind. “Artificial insemination—I know Nadia and Trey can’t go that route, because of what they are, but we certainly could. I don’t want you to think—” He broke off.

  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more awkward, Piper thought. She managed to smile at Brice. “I’ll definitely have to think about it. I’d gotten used to the idea that we would never have children. I was thinking about adoption, or some other options…” She trailed off. It seemed overly difficult to finish a sentence in this room, for some reason.

  Trey was regarding her sobe
rly. “Yes, we’ll definitely have to give it some thought.” He looked at Nadia. “It’s a very generous offer, and we appreciate it.”

  There was a strange edge to his voice, and Piper wondered what he was thinking. Surely he wasn’t upset by Brice’s offer. She’d lived for two years with the knowledge that he would have to, at some point, sleep with another woman to fulfill his duty as leader of the shapeshifter community. Likely this would happen more than once. Surely he wasn’t upset at the thought she might do the same thing, for basically the same reasons.

  Although, to be honest, she had to admit it was all quite odd.

  “Certainly we didn’t expect an answer right away,” said Nadia. She seemed more comfortable with the situation than any of the rest of them. “It’s a big decision, having a child.”

  “Yes, it is.” Piper looked again at Trey. Small talk, she decided. A little small talk would fix everything. “So… Nadia, what do you do for a living?”

  * * * * *

  Piper was quiet and contemplative on the drive home. There were far too many things to mull over. But her mind remained mostly blank. She almost didn’t want to think about any of it.

  Trey remained quiet, as well, but he kept looking in her direction, as if waiting for her to speak. He didn’t push, though, for which she was grateful.

  When they arrived back home, Piper took off her coat and headed to the bedroom, to remove her makeup. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a time, just looking at her own face, scrubbed clean of makeup and pretense. Her eyes were dark, she noticed, the irises a deeper gray than usual. She looked tired.

  A small sound behind her caught her attention and she turned to see Trey in the doorway behind her. He looked thoughtful, serious.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” One last look in the mirror to see the small frown lines between her brows, then she turned back to face him. “A lot to think about.”