Shadow & Soul (34 page)

The kids bleated sadly, and Demon couldn’t stand it. So he set Tucker down and leaned in for the crate. “Put the feed and other stuff by the garage, and then get out.”

Keanu nodded and got to work while Demon carried the crate to the front porch. Tucker was dancing and clapping as he followed. Faith was quiet, and he knew he was going to get yelled at later. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sly crossing back to the porch, his one intact ear high on his head. He jumped up on the railing and sat on a post, his tail wrapped primly around him. His golden eyes were intent on the crate.

“You haven’t rebuilt the barn yet,” Faith’s voice was soft, and Demon knew she didn’t want Tucker to pay attention to what she was saying. “Please tell me you don’t want goats in the house.”

“No, babe. It’s okay.” He opened the crate, and the tiny goats stepped out, bleating all the way. They’d been hand-raised, so they went right up to the human in the likeliest position for cuddles—Tucker, who was kneeling directly in front of the crate. As they tried to climb him, nibbling at his fingers and clothes, he giggled maniacally.

“Goats, Pa! They’re ticking me!”

Demon walked to Faith and hooked his arm around her waist. He smiled down at their boy. He’d be three next month. Less than a year ago, he had a vocabulary of fewer than ten words, and he almost never used them. Now, he was speaking in complete sentences and chattering nonstop. Demon didn’t always understand his chatter, but he usually got the gist. He was learning to use the toilet, too, and now only needed a diaper at bedtime, or when he was feeling under the weather. He was like a different child. But still his boy—no, he was
fully
his boy now. The trauma that had held him back was forgotten. And he would never have to relive it.

“They need names, Tuck. They’re girls. You think you can think of good names?”

As he asked, Faith mumbled, “No, wait—ugh.”

Tucker gently picked up the little calico kid, and she nuzzled his neck and nibbled his hair, which was getting pretty long. Giggling, he called out, “Elsa and Anna!”

Demon dropped his head. Damn. That stupid old movie had been on heavy rotation all summer long. “It’s your fault,” he muttered to Faith. “You’re the one that used it to help him ‘think cool thoughts.’”

“Bite me.” She hip-checked him lightly. “Really, hon. What are we going to do with goats?”

“I’ll get to the barn next thing. In the meantime, one of the things Keanu carried over is a portable pen. They can sleep in the garage at night, so the coyotes don’t get to them, and we can bring the pen out in the day. But they’ve been around people since they were born. They’ll be lonely too far away.”

“Not in the house, Michael. Come on.”

He nodded, trying to be noncommittal. Maybe goats in the house. Eventually. With a little sweet-talking. Then Sly jumped off the railing and went to check out the new kids on the porch. He was bigger than they were, but that wouldn’t last long. They were a small breed, but they’d be bigger than a cat.

Sly nosed the brown one—whether that was Elsa or Anna, Demon didn’t know—and the baby gave him a little head-butt. Sly popped him on the nose, keeping his claws tucked in, and the kid bounced straight into the air about six inches. Then Sly rubbed his body over the kid’s legs. And just like that, he was in the middle of a goat scrum with Tucker. Sly was an equal-opportunity baby-tender.

“They won’t be lonely,” Faith murmured at his side.

“No, they won’t be. This is a good home.”

~oOo~

That night, long after Tucker was asleep in his new big-boy bed, and Elsa and Anna were bedded down with fresh straw in their new pen in the garage, Sly keeping watch, Demon went into the bedroom he shared with his wife. She was in the shower. He considered getting in with her, but she wasn’t all that frisky about showers. Baths, yes, but not showers. So he closed their door and shed his clothes, then turned out all but the light on her nightstand.

Not a nightstand, really. Just a chair from the dining set she’d had in her loft. Their bedroom was a work in progress. The room had been outrageously large, and they’d given some of it up to have a private bathroom. That was great—nice tile, separate shower, tub for two, double sinks, the works. But he’d just gotten the drywall up in the bedroom, and they hadn’t bought any furniture. Her bed and armoire from the loft, a couple of chairs they were using as nightstands, and a few lamps. That was about it. It looked unfinished and sparse. But he still loved it.

And she still managed to drape her clothes every damn place.

Shaking his head, he pulled her discarded clothes off the bed and put them in the hamper. Then he turned the covers down on his side. There was a small manila envelope on the sheet, just below his stack of pillows. His name was written on it, in Faith’s precise, artistic printing. As the shower turned off, he picked up the envelope and tore it open.

There was a plastic stick inside. White with a blue cap. There was a little window on the side, showing words and numbers.
Pregnant
, he read
, 2-3
. Two to three what? Holy fuck!

He almost ran around the bed to the bathroom door. They both preferred to knock at closed doors, but fuck that noise. He burst in. “Two to three what?! Babies?!”

She was combing out her long hair, a thick, red towel wrapped around her body. She laughed. “No, dummy. Two to three
weeks
. The test estimated how pregnant I am. I’m two to three
weeks
pregnant.”

And then it sank in. “We’re having a baby?”

“We are. Apparently, in thirty-seven to thirty-eight weeks.”

He looked at the test stick again. Faith was pregnant with their baby.

Feeling almost as if his baby was inside that stick, he set it carefully on the counter, afraid he might drop it. Then he stepped back, still staring.

Faith came up to him and pulled him around to face her. He thought she was glowing. Pregnant women glowed, right? He saw it, in her eyes, her cheeks. She was more beautiful than ever. Sliding his finger behind the towel at her chest, he pulled it loose and let it drop. He wanted to see her belly.

It was flat as ever, but he still laid his open hand on her firm skin. His baby. Their baby.

Every hurt had now been healed. He had everything.

His eyes intent on his hand, he whispered. “Thank you.”

She put her hand over his. “For what?”

“Everything.”

THE END

~oOo~

COMING SOON:

Today and Tomorrow
: A Night Horde SoCal Side Trip

Nolan has been on loan to the SoCal charter for almost a year. His home club, and his family, want him to come home. But he’s not ready. He needs to know more about himself before he can go home to take his father’s seat.

Analisa is a girl seeking all the experiences she can fit into the life she has left.

Together, they find exactly what they need.

Find more information and a teaser at the Freak Circle Press blog:
https://tfcpress.wordpress.com/