by Layla Silver
“Love you, Aunt Mai!” Eden hugged me tightly after the kiss.
“Love you, too, Sweetie.” I squeezed her back, then shut the door and turned to Lea.
“We’ll see you in a couple of days,” Lea said, hugging me. “Unless there’s a family meeting first.”
“Family meeting?” I frowned, pulling back. “Who did what, now?”
“Stone told me they’re really close to figuring out who the dragons that killed Aunt Lorna and Uncle Joe are,” Lea said, shrugging one shoulder. “You know they’ll call an announcement meeting the instant they’re sure.”
“Stone’s been saying that for years,” I reminded her, waving it off as I walked her around to the driver’s side. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Standing back, I waved as they backed out of the driveway. Heading back inside to pick up the mess on the back porch, I thought of Cedar’s warm sleepy body tucked against my shoulder and Brant and Eden’s hugs. For the first time, I let myself imagine a little dark-haired baby of my own. One with Will’s handsome features and an earthy coyote scent tucked against my chest.
My heart ached. Could I really have that without losing Will?
I was sweeping sand off the porch when my phone buzzed. Fishing it out of my pocket, I found a message from Will.
Agency says no problem to everything we discussed. Come check it out with me?
Beneath it was a link to First Class Surrogacy and a list of possible appointment times. With the picture of our baby in my arms still fresh and aching in my mind, I picked the first available time and sent back two words.
Book it.
Chapter 6 – Will
“Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done.” Casting a glance at Maia, I wiggled my eyebrows. I cocked my head and kept singing along with the radio, pitching my voice a little louder and making a dramatic expression. “Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more.”
Maia laughed, the beading and feathers on her long earrings brushing her cheeks as she shook her head. “What did you have for breakfast?” she demanded, playfully. “Lucky Charms? You’re as bad as my nieces and nephews.”
“It is a law,” I informed her mock-gravely, “that you must sing with this song every time you hear it. No exceptions.”
“Try that cheesiness on someone who doesn’t work with the law for a living,” she retorted, propping her elbow on the ledge of the Audi’s open window and resting her head against her hand. Sunlight sparkled against the sunglasses she had pushed up atop her head, and the wind streaking along the car as we sped down the road caught her loose hair, making it dance. Her blue knee-length dress was tastefully vintage and paired with silver flats. The undercurrent of tension that had bunched her shoulders when I’d picked her up was gone, and her eyes were bright with mirth. Gods, she was beautiful.
I couldn’t help the smugness I felt at being the one who could always put her at ease. The one she trusted more than anyone else in the world. It was almost as heady a feeling as the knowledge that we were actually doing this. My gorgeous, talented Maia and I were going to First Class Surrogacy to talk about babies. I had, in fact, had an entirely sensible breakfast, but I felt like I’d binged on a box full of marshmallows. Possibly marshmallows swimming in espresso instead of milk. I was wired.
“Come on,” I prodded. “It’s a classic.” The music kept going, and I chimed back in, keeping one eye on the road and one on Maia. “Carry on, you will always remember.”
Still laughing, Maia nonetheless picked up the next line with me, her throaty alto making happy shivers run along my skin. It was going to be a good appointment. I could feel it.
***
It was more than a little weird to be escorted around in a professional capacity by my little brother. Particularly given some of the subject matter involved. I couldn’t help but be proud of him, though. Elton clearly knew his stuff and, despite prime opportunities for brotherly teasing, he kept everything on the up-and-up.
That was probably for Maia’s sake, though. Elton was a good reader of people. He’d seen Maia’s emotional state at the club and gotten a clear look at how uncertain she was when we first arrived. His compassionate heart couldn’t help but want to make her comfortable. I made a mental note to buy him and Corey something nice as a thank you. Dragons didn’t believe in being in other people’s debt, even if it was family.
Fortunately, his professionalism was thoroughly reflected by everyone else we encountered. It was immediately clear that the agency was first in its class. Everything was immaculate and ran like a smoothly-oiled machine. The place had a sleek functionality that the engineer in me appreciated, but there was also a comforting openness about it that I could tell appealed to Maia. No question was off-limits, and Elton had answers for everything.
He explained the process and the procedures with enough detail that you knew what to expect, but with such quiet assurance that none of it seemed intimidating. There was no getting around the fact that it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as doing things the old-fashioned way, but there was a great deal to be said for the control involved. According to all the statistics we looked at, the results were pretty much guaranteed.
Smart kid that he was, Elton even arranged for us to talk to the agency’s legal department and to meet one of the counselors. I only followed about half of the legalese that passed rapid-fire between Maia and the agency lawyer, but I could see her progressively relax over the course of the conversation. By the time they were done, she was thoroughly convinced that our kids could be legally protected no matter what happened. I wanted to kiss the counselor, too. She managed to reassure Maia in no time flat that as long as all parties were committed to honesty and the best interests of the baby, there was no reason to expect that pre-existing relationships would be compromised.
“And you’ll let us have twins,” I asked, again, when we spoke to a representative of the medical staff.
“We can provide two embryos for simultaneous implantation,” the doctor affirmed. He looked at Maia. “Elton mentioned that you’re concerned about the shifter cross-breeding situation. You’re not wrong to feel that way. In natural conception situations, there is no way to know what you’ll get. However, dragon DNA is remarkably specific.” He shot me an amused glance, then looked back at her. “That makes it pretty easy to manipulate in the lab. There’s a 99.5 percent chance that we can guarantee you a set of twins with one coyote shifter and one dragon shifter. It’ll cost more because it’s more advanced lab work, but unless there are complications after implantation, you’ll be all set.”
“Are complications common?” Maia asked, frowning.
“No, not at all,” the doctor said quickly. “Coyote shifters are actually quite adaptable. They tend to take to pregnancy well and hold pregnancies to term at higher rates than many other species. We’re just legally required to make sure you understand that it’s not impossible for some kind of complication to occur.” He spread his hands. “This is real life. Unpredictable things happen.”
“Of course.”
I knew Maia well enough that I could tell she was thinking of her chaotic family. Unpredictable didn’t even scratch the surface.
“Are there any other questions I can answer for you?” the doctor asked.
“No, thank you.” Maia looked at me.
“No, I believe we’ve covered everything.”
“All right.” The doctor smiled. “Please, feel free to take all the time you need to think or discuss things. Elton will be right outside if you have more questions or need assistance.”
I tried not to squirm with impatience as the man left, then turned my full attention on Maia.
“Well?” she asked hesitantly.
“I’m in,” I told her simply. “I know that’s easy for me to say since I won’t be the one who ends up the size of a whale.” The jibe worked, making her purse her lips and roll her eyes, and I hurried on, leaning forward in my urgency to make sure she under
stood. “This has to be up to you,” I told her, reaching for her hand. “But I know we can make this work.”
Maia’s fingers curled around mine, and she stared at our hands quietly for a long moment. Then she lifted her eyes to mine, and I read a worry in them that made my heart sink. Swallowing, she said softly, “you know we’ll die.”
Stunned, I instinctively tightened my grip.
“Not now,” she said, quickly, squeezing my hand back. “But I’m not a dragon, Will. I only have 50 or 60 years left. If one of our babies is a dragon-shifter, it should have a normal dragon lifespan—probably centuries. But a coyote …” she licked her lips. “I know it won’t be the child you’ll raise,” she said quietly. “But are you sure you want to do this? Knowing you’ll lose us both in less than 100 years? I know it’s different, being co-parents instead of mates, and not raising the pup yourself, but …” She cast about helplessly.
“Maia.” I breathed her name and wrapped both of my hands around hers. The idea of losing her made it hard to breathe. The thought of losing one of our children was unbearable. But I was a dragon. Losing people was part of my life.
I knew that when dragons found their mates, their mates’ aging would slow, and they would live as long as the dragons they were mated to. The problem was, of course, that Maia didn’t think I was her mate. If she did, she’d share my lifespan. We’d have all the time in the world to enjoy our long lives together. But she didn’t think I was her mate. So that wouldn’t happen, as much as I wanted it to.
I took a long, slow breath, trying to figure out how to explain. I thought fleetingly of all the childhood friends I’d already buried. The army buddies from two wars that still haunted my dreams sometimes. Even as I tried to find the words, I discarded them. It wouldn’t be the same.
“My father,” I said, finally, my voice low, “had a lover before my mother. She was human—not even a shifter of any kind, much less a dragon. He loved her, even though she wouldn’t take him as her mate.” I rubbed my thumb over the soft skin of Maia’s wrist. “She died in a Yellow Fever pandemic in the 1790s. It broke his heart. He still barely talks about her.” Lifting my gaze, I met her stricken eyes.
“My father chose love, Mai. So do I. I would rather have our babies for however long we can than not have them at all. And I want them to have you for a mother, even if it means they won’t have you as long as a dragon would wish for its mother to live.” I set my jaw. “But you get to choose, too. If that’s not what you want for our children, I’ll respect your decision.”
Maia was quiet for a long time. I could see her lawyer’s brain still turning everything over, looking at all the angles. Weighing the pieces. Finally, her gorgeous blue eyes flicked up to meet mine again.
“I want a baby,” she said decisively. “And I want it—them—with you. I trust you to take care of our kids when I’m gone, even if you all live until the rest of eternity. This place clearly knows what it’s doing, and I trust them to make it happen for us.” She smiled, a kind of fragile but wild incredulousness it. “I want us to have twins, Will. A pup for me and a hatchling for you.” She squeezed my hands. “Let’s do this.”
Elation shot through me, and I hauled Maia into my arms. She squeaked in surprise and then laughed. She hugged me back, and I pressed my face into her hair. Would our babies smell like her, all earthen and sweet? I couldn’t wait to find out.
At some point, we got ourselves together and went to find Elton. Everything after that largely blurred in my awareness. I was vaguely aware of comparing schedules and setting up appointments. Elton pointed out that I didn’t have to come to every appointment, and I flatly informed him and Maia that I would be. I wasn’t going to be left out of a single inch of this process. There was a raft of paperwork to fill out and authorizations to make. I gave the agency my card and specified that everything was to go on it. I didn’t want anything billed to Maia.
“I have health insurance,” she reminded me, amused. “Good insurance.”
“And whatever they cover is lovely,” I said, unmoved. “But anything they don’t is going on my tab.”
She shook her head but didn’t argue.
When everything was done, and the appointments were set, we took our leave and headed for the car. “Let me take you out to dinner,” I said impulsively. “We’ll celebrate.”
“I can’t,” Maia said, regretfully. “Lea and the kids are coming over again tonight. We’re having a movie night in the backyard.”
“And you wonder why you’re the favorite aunt.” I smiled and opened her car door.
I would have liked to go out somewhere, just the two of us. To burn off the exuberant energy crackling between us. But it wasn’t my place to interfere with Maia’s commitments to her family, so I simply tuned the radio to Maia’s favorite station and turned the music up too loud. I drove a little too fast with the windows down and reveled in the heat and sunlight and her laughter as she sang along whenever a favorite song played.
When she was safely home, I took myself home. With every mile, the reality of what we’d agreed to seemed to sink in a little deeper. Maia and I were going to have twins. I was going to have a baby.
My thoughts churned as I swung into my driveway and shoved the car into park. I’d need to start preparing now. The house would need renovating—I’d need a nursery. A playroom. A sandbox and a swing set out back. No, an adventure set—rock walls were the new trend, weren’t they? I’d have to research. I’d need a child-safe bathroom, too. Hell, I’d have to child-proof everything.
Fired up, I headed directly to my office. Clicking around at lightning speed, I pulled up the schematics I’d made years ago of my house and yard and settled in to start redesigning my life.
Chapter 7 – Maia
It was almost one o’clock by the time I finally got out of the office on my lunch break. Nikki, our receptionist, was unexpectedly out for the day. One of her kids was sick. That left the rest of us trying to cover her usual duties just as we hit crunch time on a couple of big cases. We were all professionals, and we had everything in hand, but it made for a hectic day.
I treated myself to a bacon burger at the little cafe just down the street from the firm where I worked. It was messy, piled high with special sauce and caramelized onions, and exactly the right level of decadence to refuel me for what promised to be a late night in the office. Licking sauce off my thumb, I pondered the idea that if Will and I actually went through with our crazy plan, it would be the better part of a year before I could choose my lunch so casually again.
What were you supposed to eat while pregnant? I wasn’t entirely sure, but I knew it wasn’t burgers. I remembered my mother being beside herself when Lea was pregnant. She’d had bizarre dreams of feeding her “the perfect diet,” giving her grand-babies “the best start.” Lea had craved crushed Doritos over strawberry ice cream with Eden, and Cheetos dipped in chocolate sauce with Brant. With Cedar, she’d wrapped Red Vines around Slim Jims and eaten them by the pound. My mother had cried, which had made Lea cry.
Did I really want to sign up for all of that? Double that, even? Would I even be able to get up the stairs in my house so swollen with twins that I couldn’t see my own feet?
Frowning, I polished off the last of my burger. Look at the facts, I told myself, falling back on my objective paralegal brain.
Fact one: I wanted a baby. Badly. Badly enough to use unconventional methods to get one.
Fact two: I didn’t have a mate. Not even the hint of one and not for lack of looking. I was about to turn 30, and if I didn’t have my mate by now, the chances of miraculously stumbling on him were slim.
Let’s face it, I told myself, swirling a perfectly crisp french fry through a blob of ketchup. He might not even exist. That happened, right? Some people’s mates died of illness or accident or tragedy before they ever found each other. Some people didn’t believe in mates and just married the first convenient person, leaving their true-born mate forever alone. Sometimes lif
e sucked and then you died, right? I could spend the rest of my life looking and never find someone to spend my life with.
But I did have Will. Right now. Sweet, amazing Will, who I loved dearly and trusted with my life. He’d be an amazing father. I could absolutely give him my child and sleep easy at night, knowing that our baby was loved and safe and happy. I knew his family and knew they’d be good to our children, too.
Moreover, we both had roots here. We were both well established. Neither of us had plans to move, probably ever, which meant our babies would get to know each other and both their parents. What more could you ask for?
My phone vibrated, and I picked it up. Azalea’s face smiled at me from the FaceTime screen, and I swiped the button to accept the call. “Hey, Lea.”
“Maia!” Lea was laughing.
“Aunt Mai!” the children chorused in the background.
“Hey, guys.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face at their boisterous voices. “What are you up to?”
“Aunt Mai, we wrote a song for you!”
“For me?” I leaned a little closer to the phone, grateful that I had it connected to the Bluetooth earbud I was wearing. Otherwise, I’d definitely have disturbed half the cafe. I glanced around anyway, double-checking. No one was paying attention.
“Okay, are you ready?” Lea asked. The image blurred as she swept the phone around to zoom in on the kids. Cedar was plopped on the floor, her face smeared with something purple that I guessed was jam, a giant drum mallet fisted in each small hand. Eden had a horn of some kind, and Brant was holding cymbals the size of his head. “Okay,” Lea counted. “One, two, three!”
Eden’s face contorted as she blew into the horn as hard as she could. Brant banged the cymbals with passion, and Cedar thwacked the mallets against her drum with gleeful abandon. She shrieked happily along with the cacophonous noise while Brant began to stomp and headbang like an 80s rocker. I could hear Lea laughing as she filmed and couldn’t help but laugh myself. The kids kept going for a full two minutes before throwing their hands up and dancing around, shouting with delight.