A Generation of Vipers (Shifter Shield Book 2)
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Authors: Margo Bond Collins
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A Generation of Vipers
A Shifter Shield Story (#2)
Copyright
©
2016 by Margo Bond Collins
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.
Published by Bathory Gate Press
Granbury TX
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This novella is for everyone who asked me for a Lindi and Kade sequel. Don't fret—there
is
a full-length novel on the way. But I hope this makes you smile in the meantime! Love to you all!
"Looks like quadruplets."
My eyes widened.
Quadruplets. Four shapeshifter babies?
Three months ago, I didn't know there were any other shapeshifters in the world. For all I knew, I was some aberration, a weird-science experiment gone wrong and abandoned in the West Texas desert, where I was found by a herpetologist on a research trip.
He thought he'd found a new breed of snake, something akin to a cobra, but like nothing he'd seen before.
That he was willing to take me in and make me part of his family once he realized that I was a snake-shifter is, I think, a testament to how kind he and my mother are. The fact that they were able to train me up into a decent human being (at least, I think so) is, as far as I'm concerned, proof that nurture can overcome nature.
That's what I was trying to remind myself of as I stared at the sonogram as the technician hovered it over Sally Vanderhorn's belly, circling around and around.
"Are you sure?" I asked the technician, a young woman named Jamie who was also, I had recently learned, some sort of werecat.
"Absolutely positive."
Jamie pointed at the screen.
"Look right there, and there. You can see the two human babies' heartbeats. But look over here"—her finger traced what I had been fairly sure was a streak on the screen, not part of the image at all—"and you can see the lamia vertebrae."
We had learned early on not to say "snake" or "serpent" or any word like it with this particular group of pregnant women. They were all traumatized—victims of kidnap and rape who had decided, for one reason or another, to carry their pregnancies to term.
They had been victimized and impregnated by the human-form son of another weresnake—a lamia, like me in form, if not in character—who had been trying to re-create her race after they had been all but wiped out by the shifter community.
That community had decided to accept me, but only conditionally, and only because some of their most prominent members had spoken up on my behalf.
Dr. Kade Nevala, one of those prominent members, a weremongoose, and the man I was currently dating, walked into the room and spoke to Sally. "How are you feeling today?"
Like most women, Sally all but melted in the face of Kade's charm. "I'm doing okay, Dr. Nevala."
Jamie showed him what she had seen on the sonogram, and he nodded, following along and discussing things like diet and exercise with Sally. I tried not to be distracted by his presence, but the sheer heat rolling off of him, spiced as it was with that slightly dangerous scent he carried, could turn my knees weak if I let it. The memory of the way he had held me that morning before we got out of bed to start our day was almost enough to wipe out my anxiety over the information Jamie had shared.
Quadruplets.
And Sally was one of five women who had opted not to terminate her pregnancy, some for health reasons, others for reasons of personal belief.
None of them wanted to keep the babies.
If they are all carrying multiples, we could end up with …
I did some quick math.
At the very least, there were going to be eight babies with lamia heritage.
I was in so much trouble.
Thank goodness Marta, the furthest along in her pregnancy, was carrying only one. We would have a little time after she delivered to get used to having a baby around—and maybe even a baby shifter.
* * *
"Don't panic," Kade said that evening as he stirred a pot of his homemade spaghetti sauce. "It's not like you're bringing them home to live in your house. We're going to set up a group home for them, with a live-in staff. You're their counselor, Lindi, not their mother."
I poured a glass of Chianti and settled in on a barstool at the island in the middle of his large kitchen. "That's the thing. I'm not sure a group home is the right way to go with these kids."
"You signed off on it when we came up with the idea." He narrowed his eyes at me and tasted the sauce, then added something to it. "Janice thinks it's the best option we have," he added, knowing that the leader of the shifters' Council had been tutoring me in all things shapeshifter recently, and that her endorsement mattered to me.
"Yeah, but…" I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I was trying to say.
As usual, I didn't have to find the exact phrase for Kade to understand. Or any words at all. "You're worried that without a stable home-life, you won't be able to give these children the same kind of emotional training that your parents gave you."
I nodded and took a long drink.
"We can provide stability. Everyone wants this to work."
"Not quite everyone," I muttered darkly.
"Everyone who is directly involved wants this to work. You cannot be completely responsible for the entirety of the lamia race."
"It's more than that." I considered what to say, how much to share of my own recent insights. "We will have plenty of other weres stepping in to help raise these kids, lots of people to teach them how to be solid shifter citizens. But until they're grown, I will be the only adult lamia in their lives. I will be the only weresnake they can model themselves on. That feels like a lot more responsibility than simply being their counselor. In that sense, I am kind of responsible for the entire lamia race."
"Your parents did fine with you, and they're not shifters at all," he pointed out.
"But they managed it by encouraging me to focus almost entirely on my human side. I would like to give these children even more."
Turning down the heat under the sauce, Kade put the wooden spoon down and made his way around to my side of the counter, where he spun the seat of my barstool around until I faced him. Then he took my face in his hands and leaned his forehead against mine. "You'll do a great job with them."
Then he pressed his lips against my mouth.
As usual, his kiss almost took my breath away. We hadn't been together long enough for the sense of wonder at his touch to fade. The sheer heat of our connection didn't show any signs of abating, either. The brush of his tongue against mine sent sparks shooting through my veins to pool in the pit of my stomach. It wouldn't take much to stoke that heat into a raging fire.
But if we did that, his lovely dinner would be ruined.
Not that I was sure I cared.
Breaking our kiss and pulling away just far enough so he could speak, Kade rested his forehead against mine. "You will be an amazing role model for these kids. I'm sure of it."
I smiled and nodded, but I didn't say anything.
The pool of heat in my belly had turned to cold lead at his words. And though I knew he meant his next words to be comforting, they didn't help, either.
"We're still searching for other lamia survivors."
I couldn't quite bring myself to say aloud how terrified I was at the prospect of becoming a not-quite-parent to what was looking like it was going to be an entire houseful of weresnakes.
Or that part of me wanted to be a real parent to them.
The next day, I left work early so Kade and I could attend a shifter Council meeting. I told my boss I had a doctor's appointment. Eventually, I would have to come up with some other excuse, or Gloria would begin to wonder if I was seriously ill.
I refused to miss any Council meetings, though. As a new Shield, I was expected to learn everything I could about shifters and their cultures. Not that I wouldn't have done that, anyway. But even more than wanting to learn about shifters, I wanted to be there to intervene in any discussion about the lamia babies.
Because these days, there always seemed to be someone who wanted to talk about them.
Usually, that someone was Hank Cleveland.
From the very first meeting I had attended, Hank had been a thorn in my side, arguing against the inclusion of any lamias in the shapeshifter community.
Hank was also a squirrel-shifter, prone to, as Kade said, "Chattering and scolding."
I would have dismissed the squirrel, if not for the fact that he apparently had the werewolves backing him up on this.
The wolf pack was fairly large, and I was worried that they might put together a voting bloc to keep the babies from being treated as full shifter citizens.
"Don't worry." Janice, the Council leader, patted me on the shoulder as she ushered me into her living room, where most meetings took place. "Half the wolves, including their alpha, are headed out to Georgia soon. Something about a territory dispute with the hyenas."
"They have hyena-shifters in Georgia?" I asked, startled.
"No. That's just where the wolves and hyenas are meeting. The territory is right outside of Fort Worth." Janice's blue eyes sparkled behind her schoolteacher-style glasses. I knew that when she was close to shifting, particularly under stress, her eyes turned brown. I always took her eyes being blue as a sign that she truly had everything under control. "I might have suggested a few months ago that the Houston hyena clan look into relocating up here," she continued with a grin.
I blinked. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."
"I told you werebadgers are badass," Kade said, having caught my last comment. He stood up from his spot on the sofa to greet me with a kiss. "What has our fearless leader done now?"
"I'll tell you later," I said.
From across the room, Hank sneered at me.
I had to admit, my fear of his influence had lessened considerably when I discovered his other form was a squirrel. I had to remind myself that he had more intimidating allies.
As usual, Hank jumped into the discussion almost as soon as Janice opened the floor for new business.
"We have to decide what to do with the snake-brats," he announced.
"There is a plan in place," Janice replied. I remained in awe of her ability to remain calm week after week.
"I would like to call a vote," Hank said, again as usual.
"You know the protocol." The entire conversation was falling into a routine. Hank had yet to put together a petition requesting a vote on the issue with the signatures of at least 20% of the voting shifters in the district. I hadn't had the nerve yet to ask how many that would be. I did know that most of the wolves had signed it.
"Werewolves are arrogant assholes. Ignore them," Kade had advised the one time I mentioned it to him.
It looked like I was going to be able to take that advice for another week, at least. Still, I was worried that a vote on the issue was inevitable.
And shifters hated lamias almost more than humans hated snakes.
I was afraid that fear would lead people to vote to treat a bunch of babies as outcasts.