Crossbred Son, Page 2

  Dozens of questions circling in his mind, he pulled out his mobile phone and dialed Aleeks Daahn’s number from memory. Aleeks was the proud seir of a toddling young female and the uncle to both a female and a young Dominant. Surely, he would be able to guess the age of Gabe’s son.

  Aleeks answered on the second ring. “Problem, Gabe?”

  I called early in the day, during Aleeks’s work day. “Not a problem but a query. I am caring for”—I don’t want to involve anyone outside my nest in this, especially not before my own seir and gran-seir know it.—”a young Xxanian mix. He has his hunting teeth but not his human teeth. He doesn’t properly crawl, but he does sit up steadily and pull himself with elbows and knees or toes.” He considered the contents of the bag. “He eats ground meat and vegetables. How old would he be...roughly?”

  There was a moment of tense silence. “You are caring for a young one and don’t even know his age?”

  “It’s a long story.” One I do not even know myself. “His mother has a minor injury, and I am caring for the young one while the human doctors care for her.”

  “And the young one’s seir?” he asked pointedly.

  “Has been unavailable thus far. But that will change soon,” he grumbled more to himself than Aleeks.

  “He knows then?”

  “Yes. He does,” he snapped. “Will you help me or not?”

  Aleeks sighed. “What generation? Do you know?”

  “Third generation, which is why I asked you and not Daveed. Zondra’s young would be the closest I know.”

  “I would guess somewhere between two and three months old then.”

  Two or three months. I’ve lost so much time with him.

  “Is there a problem, Gabe?” he asked again.

  “No. No problem. Thank you, Aleeks.” He hung up before the astute young warrior could ask another question.

  Two or three months. How long did Michael gestate? Did Abby know when she left me?

  Even if she didn’t, why didn’t she tell me when she found out? Why didn’t Abby trust me to be a proper seir to our son? Until she recovered, there would be no answers to his many questions.

  ****

  “We’ll want to keep you here overnight for observation,” the emergency room doctor pronounced.

  “Not a chance.”

  He startled and met Abby’s gaze. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m nursing a baby, so no overnight and no drugs.” She started to rise from the bed.

  “Wait. I can’t just let you walk out of here without knowing you have someone arranged to take care of you at home.”

  Her heart stuttered at the obvious answer. “There’s a police officer in the waiting room named Gabe Zhaahvan. I’m sure he’ll help out until I’m back on my feet.” For Michael. He’ll at least do that for me. I hope.

  “And you’ll stay here while I talk to him?” There was a warning couched in that.

  “Won’t move a millimeter.”

  Though he looked like he’d like to stay and argue with her, the doctor nodded and withdrew. He was gone so long, Abby started to fidget.

  What if Gabe refuses? What if they keep me here? How will Michael get fed? Will they let me keep him with me?

  The curtain slid back and the doctor came in, Gabe on his heels. Michael looked up at her, smiled, and let out a happy squeal.

  She smiled. “There’s my little man.” Abby put her arms out, and Gabe settled Michael in them. She closed her eyes and inhaled his baby scent.

  “I changed his diaper,” Gabe informed her. “And he’s had the last bottle of breast milk.”

  As if in confirmation her breasts ached to fill another.

  “We should get you both home to prepare for his next meal.”

  Her heart rate eased a dozen beats or more per minute. “Thank you, Gabe.”

  He offered a tense nod but didn’t make any further comments.

  It’s coming. We have to talk. Abby focused on the doctor. “Can I go now?”

  “Sign the release, and you’re free to go.”

  ****

  Gabe tightened his fist around the steering wheel of his Spice coupe and bit back more questions. He’d held his tongue in check for the taxi ride to the station and the few moments it had taken him to check out and receive emergency leave for three days.

  He’d promised to hold his questions until Abby was ready to talk, but how he was going to manage that was a mystery to him.

  Abby looked back at Michael, strapped into the car seat Gabe had borrowed from the station. “Thank you,” she repeated. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  You could have decided that at some point much earlier in the seven months we’ve been apart. “Right.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?”

  “For not telling you about Michael.”

  Apparently, she’s ready. “Did you know when you left me?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  His breath released in a rush. “You still should have told me.”

  Abby opened her mouth to talk, shut it again, then swallowed hard. “It wasn’t that simple.”

  His anger spiked, and Gabe fought his ridge plates back. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it was to have a Xxanian child without support?”

  “I had support. I had the best high risk obstetrician in the city and the doctors at SLAL.” She visibly fumed. “Not that the human doctor had much to add to what SLAL did, but I still had her on the team.”

  “SLAL?”

  Abby nodded solemnly.

  “And they didn’t contact me?” Someone at SLAL was going to pay.

  “Patient-physician confidentiality.”

  “So you asked them not to contact me.” He fisted his hands tighter.

  “It wasn’t that simple,” she repeated.

  “Then why don’t you tell me what complicated it,” he invited. Gabe wanted to understand. He needed to know she hadn’t believed he’d be a bad seir to their son.

  “I complicated it.” Her breathing hitched, and Abby pressed her fingertips to her mouth, looking close to tears.

  Gabe forced his hands to loosen. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this now.”

  “No. We should. We really should. This discussion should have happened long ago, but I made a mess of it.” She pressed a hand to the liquid stitches at her temple and shook her head.

  He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t be a good seir...father to Michael?” His heart thundered in apprehension at what she might say.

  “No. I didn’t think that. I’m sure you would be...will be a great father.”

  At least she’s talking as if I have a future with our son. “What did I do to make you leave me?” He’d wondered that since the day she left.

  “It wasn’t you. It was me.”

  “The oldest line around,” he growled.

  “It was. You wanted children, and I—”

  “If you didn’t want a child, the time to make that decision has long since passed.” Gabe looked at Michael out of the corner of his eye.

  “Of course, I wanted children,” she shouted.

  Gabe pulled over to the curb, his head spinning too much to consider driving. It was disconcerting for a Xxanian warrior to be so marginalized physically. “Then why...? Why would you leave me? Was it the idea of binding?” He’d hinted at it with her shortly before she left. Had he scared her away?

  Abby shook her head. “I would have loved to.” Her breathing hitched again, and she wiped at her eyes.

  “Then why did you leave me?”

  “Because they told me I couldn’t have children. Ever. The doctors said...Children were so important to you, and I. Couldn’t. Have. Them.” Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding.

  “Oh, Seir-God. You thought that was more important to me than...” He cupped Abby’s head and drew her to his chest. “No. I never wanted you to think that.”

  Abby
vented tears into his shirt. From the back seat, Michael started to fuss. It was inborn, the discomfort at seeing a woman in distress.

  “Let’s get you both home,” he whispered. “This can wait.”

  She nodded and tried to stifle her tears. Gabe pulled away from the curb and into traffic, his emotions reeling.

  ****

  Abby sipped at the hot chocolate Gabe had given her, holding the breast pump with the opposite hand. He’d been nothing but solicitous so far. Gabe had gotten her settled in the gliding rocker, a pillow beneath her feet; he’d thought of every comfort.

  He stuck his head in the doorway, Michael on his hip. Gabe looked much more comfortable in the clothing he’d taken from the bag in his trunk than he’d looked in his uniform. Then again, his street clothes were probably Spice wear, specially formulated to be comforting against sensitive Xxanian skin.

  Their son rubbed at his eyes, fussing little sounds escaping from his lips.

  “I hate to ask,” Gabe hinted. He tipped his head toward the quickly-filling bottle.

  “Give me a second.” Abby set the mug on the table beside her, turned off the pump, removed it from her leaking breast, and unscrewed the bottle. “Hand me a nipple and a second bottle from the shelf, please.”

  Gabe didn’t move. Abby looked up at him, her mouth going dry at his fixed attention on her uncovered breast. Completely unwarranted, her body went wet and warm for him.

  He turned abruptly, searched the shelves and came back with a collar and nipple. Once she had it, he went back for a bottle. Gabe didn’t look at her again. He took the bottle of milk with a muttered word of thanks and ambled away with Michael and the bottle.

  Abby sat there, her body and mind in a riot. She hooked the new bottle up with shaking hands and started expressing again. Her gaze strayed to the doorway often, but Gabe didn’t appear.

  Of course not. If he is as confused as I am about what just happened, the last place he’ll want to be is with me. But if that was true, why did she want him to come back?

  ****

  Seir-God lives! The memory of her lush breast had Gabe hard and aching. Now is the wrong time. I don’t know if there will ever be a right time again.

  Michael patted at the side of the bottle, and he kicked his feet. His eyes slid shut.

  There has to be a right time for us. For all of us.

  Abby had said she wanted to mate with him. She did then. Does she still want to? Her arousal said she wanted something from him, but it wasn’t necessarily mating.

  Sex had always been hot between them. What had started out as a chance encounter had led to a date. Three dates. Two years. And then it had ended abruptly.

  In his arms, their son released the empty bottle with a sigh. He’d only dozed for a few moments earlier. Gabe suspected this would be a true nap.

  He moved with all the stealth of a Xxanian warrior toward the nursery he’d found earlier. It was wholly unlike a Xxanian nursery nest, but it was cheery and welcoming. Gabe could easily understand how his son could be at peace here. It was a snug little home Abby had created for them.

  Them alone. Without me. Would Gabe be welcome in it now? For longer than she needed him to help her care for Michael?

  His heart aching at what might happen tomorrow, Gabe settled Michael in the crib and tucked the blankets around him.

  Chapter Two

  Abby pushed the food around her plate and took peeks up at Gabe feeding Michael. He wasn’t using the ground meat she normally did, and he wasn’t using a spoon. In what she supposed was the Xxanian method of feeding a baby, Gabe was chewing cubes of meat and finger feeding them into Michael’s mouth, a process their son seemed to enjoy.

  “You should eat, Abby.” Gabe’s voice was low and soothing.

  She dropped her fork. “I don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

  He focused his disconcerting green-gold eyes on her. “Your head?”

  “No. Just...everything else, I suppose.”

  “Do you want to finish the discussion? Would it be easier to do it now?”

  Abby buried her face in her hands.

  His hand stroked at her shoulder.

  He moved. He’s so quiet. I forgot how silently he moves.

  “Abby?”

  “How can you be so nice to me, all things considered?”

  When he didn’t answer, Abby looked up at him.

  His brow was furrowed, and his head cocked to one side. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  She shrugged.

  “Do you want to discuss it?” he offered again.

  “Better now than later, I suppose.”

  Michael fussed from his highchair, bouncing and slapping his hands on the wood top impatiently. Gabe returned to the meat and vegetables he’d been feeding their son. Gabe didn’t question her, leaving Abby to decide where to begin.

  “I did want to become your mate,” she assured him. Why she thought it would make a difference was a mystery to her, but it needed to be said.

  “And you left me because you couldn’t give me children.” It was stated as a fact. “How long after you left did you find out you were pregnant?”

  Gabe popped another cube into his mouth and chewed in precise little movements of his jaw, his muscles bunching and releasing. He pushed the meat onto his fingertips.

  “Three weeks or so. I was sick. I was exhausted, falling asleep at odd times...It never even occurred to me that...that I was.”

  “Of course.” He scooped the food into Michael’s mouth and turned to look at her. “And why didn’t you contact me then?”

  She shifted uncomfortably and pushed her plate away.

  “Abby? Why?” He hesitated a moment. “You didn’t think I would turn my back on you, did you?”

  “No. I did consider that you might think I was just coming back because of the baby, though.”

  Gabe sent her an incredulous look. “But?”

  “But what?” It had been a straightforward comment.

  “That was only part of your reason.”

  “How do you do that?”

  He scowled. Gabe put a piece of broccoli in his mouth next.

  Spitting the words out was harder than she’d thought it would be. How many times had she practiced this speech? Now she couldn’t untie her tongue.

  Gabe looked at Michael long enough to poke another mouthful of food in. That freed her tongue.

  “They said I’d lose the baby. One of the human doctors... He wanted me to abort, because there was no way I could carry to term. I never went back to him and don’t intend to,” she hastened to add.

  His head swung toward her, his expression horrified.

  “I couldn’t do it. A-abort, I mean. I had to try to carry Michael, but...”

  “But?” he repeated.

  The rest stuck in her throat, and Abby swallowed hard. Tears stung at her eyes. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

  His eye slits narrowed, and his ridge plates stirred. “Do what to me?”

  “Give you hope of having a baby, when the chances of delivering one were so hopeless. I had to try, but you... I couldn’t do that to you.”

  “You didn’t think I would want to know?”

  “What could you do?” she wailed.

  “Be there for both of you.” There was a bite of something harsh in that.

  Unforgiving. Abby hoped she was reading him wrong.

  Gabe fed Michael another bite of meat, visibly calming himself. “And when Michael was born?”

  “I don’t know. I picked up the phone so many times, but I how could I tell you? How could I even begin?”

  “You seem to be doing well enough now,” he quipped.

  “Now you know we have a son. I’m not telling you that. All I have to tell you is why it happened this way. Pitiful as it is, I’m trying to do that, because you deserve to know the truth.”

  “I deserved to be there from the day you found out you carried.”

  “Yes... Yes, you did.” He’d deserved
to be there before that, but Abby had screwed that up.

  He didn’t reply to that.

  Her nerves jumping, Abby searched for something to say to fill the silence between them. “You should know that Doctor Rayn never gave up for a minute. He was determined that Michael would survive. Even when I didn’t believe it was possible, he insisted it was.”

  Gabe stared at her, his expressions shifting and his ridge plates extending halfway and retracting again. She’d clearly said the wrong thing, but Abby couldn’t fathom what it might be. She opened her mouth to ask.

  He beat her to the punch. “Steven Rayn was your doctor?”

  “They said he was the best there was with crossbred babies. How was I supposed to know—?”

  Abby swallowed hard at his bland look. A look that seemed to proclaim: “You could have known if you’d just asked me.” That went without saying.

  “Well, isn’t he?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. Rayn is the best at saving the unsavable.” He grumbled something she didn’t catch.

  And I’m not going to rock the boat.

  Again, the silence grew into an oppressive cloud that even Michael seemed to perceive. Their son started to wiggle and fuss. Abby’s hands itched to pick him up and cuddle him. She fisted them in her lap. If she did that, Gabe would think she didn’t trust him with Michael, she was sure.

  As it was, Gabe was monopolizing time with Michael. He’s making up for lost time. I have to let him...bond with Michael, or whatever the Xxan call it. Knowing them, it likely had another word, considering what binding meant to them.

  Or maybe not. Binding was binding.

  But what if their parent-child binding is unbreakable the way mate binding is.

  Abby came to her senses, her hands halfway onto the tabletop. She forced them back to her lap. I don’t know what Xxanian fathers are supposed to do. I have to let him bond and hope it’s not too late for them to form one.

  Gabe started cleaning Michael’s face, and he didn’t look at her. “If you have a spare blanket and a pillow, I can sleep on Michael’s floor tonight.”