Flames of Mars (Celestial Shifters Book 2)

by Tjalara Draper

  “You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” Violet whispered.

  As if in answer, the baby cooed.

  Violet’s heart melted, or maybe it ignited. She’d felt such a profound connection to this infant from the moment she’d heard her cry. How was it possible to love something so small so much?

  She stroked the little eyebrows, the tiny nose and cheeks. “Don’t worry, little one. I promise I’ll keep you safe. I’ll never leave you, and I won’t let anyone hurt you.” A dark emotion fluttered through her chest. “Ever. I’ll always protect my daughter.”

  Daughter.

  The very concept felt alien. Violet had never really been a daughter herself—not after her mother had abandoned her at the hospital soon after she was born. And bouncing around in the foster system hadn’t given her much opportunity to find a worthy parental figure.

  Except for Nathan—

  Violet shook her head. She didn’t want to ruin this magical moment by thinking about him.

  The voices grew louder as Autumn barged into the room, then faded when the door closed behind her.

  “Hey, Vi. How are you both doing?” Without waiting for an answer, she swooped in to get a better look at the baby, chattering away in baby talk and gently tickling the infant’s adorable feet. “Guess what I brought? Tah-dah!” A white box appeared from behind her back. “Fresh from Mom’s kitchen.”

  Violet clamped a hand over her nose and mouth the moment the aroma hit her. At the same time, her baby let out a shrill cry and began to kick her legs.

  “Get it away! Get it away!” Violet’s muffled voice demanded.

  Autumn fumbled the container closed and tossed it to the other side of the room, but Violet still waited a few heartbeats before daring to remove the hand from her nose.

  “I’m so sorry, Vi. I just thought since you’re not pregnant anymore . . .”

  “It’s okay.” Violet gave her friend a reassuring smile, then cast a wistful glance at the box. Cinnamon doughnuts were her all-time favorite, especially Skye’s homemade ones, but throughout her whole pregnancy, she hadn’t been able to handle the taste. And regrettably the smell of cinnamon had made her want to barf—not just barf, more like run screaming in the other direction. “Unfortunately, I think it might take a little time before my raging pregnancy hormones begin to die down.”

  Autumn slumped into the chair close to Violet’s bed. Her dark brown eyes flicked to the discarded doughnuts in the corner, then to the gradually calming infant. “That’s weird. The poor little thing freaked out the same time you did. Maybe she isn’t a fan of doughnuts either.”

  “Hmm, maybe.” Violet studied her daughter, whose features had smoothed back into a serene, untroubled expression. “Or it could be gas.”

  Autumn cracked a grin, relaxing back in the chair. She flicked her waist-length chestnut dreadlocks over her shoulder and began playing with the frayed ends of her red-orange paisley headscarf. The deep purple tones of the indie rock band tee she had on complemented her sun-kissed golden skin.

  Violet inclined her head toward the door. “So, what’s going on out there?”

  Autumn shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not sure. There’s a lot of medical lingo being thrown around. I swear, Gus and Aunt Dawn need a subtitle function sometimes.” She began cooing at the baby and booping her little button nose. “Have you given her a name yet?”

  Violet pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, not yet. Do you want to hold her?”

  Autumn’s wide eyes practically twinkled. “Ooh! Could I?”

  “Sure.”

  Once Autumn was settled with the baby, Violet nestled farther into her pillows. After a moment, the door cracked open, and Sagan’s head poked into the room.

  “Hey, stranger. You’re back,” said Violet.

  “Hey. I’ve been speaking with Dawn and Gus, and they told me you were in here.”

  “Come on in.” Violet gestured to the empty chair on the other side of her bed, but Sagan stayed where he was.

  “You sure?”

  Violet nodded. “Of course.”

  Sagan glided in and sat down, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. His ice-blue eyes stayed fixed on the baby. “So, apparently I missed a lot.”

  “I suppose you could say that.” Violet gave him the abridged version of what she could remember of the C-section. “I’m okay now,” she added. “My pain meds have been topped up, so I’m feeling fine. Although . . .” She reached out to retrieve her baby from Autumn. “The little one might be getting hungry. Apparently, the midwife should be coming in to teach me to breastfeed, but I haven’t seen her since the surgery.”

  Sagan’s angelic face paled, almost matching his white-blond hair.

  Autumn giggled. “What’s the matter, Sagan? You don’t want to be here when the milk bar opens?”

  “No, it’s not that . . . I mean, I . . .” His body tensed, as if he were about to spring from his seat.

  Before Autumn could tease him any further, Dawn entered the room with Gus close on her tail, both now mask and surgeon cap free. Dawn’s dead-straight fair hair was cropped neatly beneath her ears and bobbed a little as she strode over. The tiny wrinkles that lined her face seemed to have deepened in concern.

  Violet searched the doctor’s expression for answers, clutching her baby a little tighter. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” said Dawn. “At least, it depends on your perspective.”

  Violet shot a glance at Gus. “What do you mean ‘on my perspective’?”

  Dawn hesitated. “Well, I’m sure you’re aware that . . . now, I’m not saying there’s something wrong with your baby—she seems perfectly healthy so far—but . . .” She sucked in a deep breath. “Violet, how well do you know the baby’s father?”

  “Thane?” Violet winced. “To be honest, not all that well. Why?”

  Dawn’s mouth twitched from side to side, as if she was trying to find her next words. “It’s just—”

  “Is Thane Veniri?” Sagan blurted.

  Violet’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  “Geez,” Gus murmured under his breath, “way to rip off the Band-Aid.”

  Violet froze as an image of a scaled monster with crystal spikes flashed in her mind. Just days before arriving at Maple Shire, she’d rescued a battered Sagan after he’d been attacked by a reptilian shape-shifter called a Veniri. Violet’s world had already been turned upside down, but it almost shattered when she learned that shape-shifters were very, very real.

  She shook her head. “No, Thane’s not . . . at least, I don’t think . . .” She thought about all the time she’d spent with him since they’d met at the café: their date at the city’s carnival, the night she’d stayed at his place after her college friend Bessie was killed, the next morning when she’d seen his crystal scorpion neck tattoo and fled his apartment.

  For years, that neck tattoo had been her only memory from when she and her best friend, Lyla, were kidnapped. When she saw it again, those memories came rushing back like a hurricane. There had been at least two guys involved in the kidnapping, Thane and another man in a hoodie. The one in the hoodie had eventually turned into a scaly Veniri beast who’d attacked and killed Lyla. But Thane hadn’t changed. He’d been human the whole time. But if it could be assumed all the kidnappers were Veniri . . . ?

  A violent chill shuddered over Violet’s skin, and blood roared in her ears. She looked down at the sleeping infant in her arms—the perfect image of a little human baby.

  Heart pounding, Violet slowly nodded. “Yes, it’s possible Thane’s Veniri. But then, are you saying she’s . . . ?” She bit her lip, her thoughts churning. During the delivery, Macie had screamed. Dawn had kicked everyone out.

  “Yes,” confirmed Dawn. “Your daughter is Veniri.”

  Several seconds passed as Violet processed that fact. “What does this mean for my baby?” She glanced between Dawn, Sagan, Gus, and even Autumn. “How do you . . . I mean, how do I raise a Veniri chil
d?”

  “Does this mean you’re planning on keeping her?” Dawn asked.

  “Of course!” Violet stared at her, taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s mine. I’m not going to give her up.” There was no way Violet could abandon this child the way her mother had abandoned her. She could never put her daughter through the damage and pain she’d endured, Veniri or not.

  Sagan’s eyebrows drew together slightly.

  Dawn let out a long breath, and her face relaxed into a smile. “Great. In that case, I’ll bring you a formula made especially for Veniri infants. Then I’ll do my best to explain their feeding habits, what to do when her fang nubs become sharper, and what happens when—”

  Violet, Sagan, Autumn, and Gus all erupted at the same time.

  “This has happened before?”

  “Hold up!”

  “Where did you get Veniri baby formula?”

  “Fangs?”

  Dawn smiled and patiently waited for the hysteria to die down. “Actually, yes, I have seen this before.” She held up her hands as everyone’s questions started up again, then focused on the baby in Violet’s arms. “This is not the first time a shifter baby has been delivered in this infirmary.”

  Violet’s jaw dropped. Gus and Autumn immediately exchanged a loaded glance. Sagan’s wide eyes were the only clue as to what he could be thinking.

  “But what about Macie, the midwife?” Gus asked.

  Dawn inclined her head low. “She’s new. Unfortunately, I never considered that Violet could be pregnant with a shifter baby, so it didn’t even cross my mind to brief those who would be assisting with the birth on the shifter side of things.” Her lips pinched into a thin line. “I certainly won’t be making that mistake again, considering the consequences of what happened in the theater room and the lengths we’ll now have to go to in counseling Macie and ensuring she doesn’t spread this to others.”

  Violet slowly nodded, trying to let the new information sink in. A ragged whine escaped the squirming baby in her arms.

  Dawn looked down at the wriggling bundle. “Hmm, I think she’s hungry.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Trust me.” Dawn gave her a knowing smile. “When you’ve had a baby like Gus who was able to drink his weight in milk from day one, you learn to read the signs. For Veniri babies, breastfeeding is still vital, but the Veniri infant formula will compensate for all the extra vitamins and minerals she’ll need that your human body doesn’t provide. Plus, with Veniri babies, there’s also the challenge of—”

  Before Dawn could finish, flickers of iridescent blue began to ripple over the baby’s skin. The whining cries grew louder, and in a matter seconds, the infant’s form had completely changed. Except for the face, throat, hands, and feet, teal fur about an inch long covered her flesh. Her little face—which showed only a faint impression of the scales to come—had turned a pastel shade of aquamarine, with a distinct pattern of white and darker blues around her cheeks and forehead. Small bumps had risen along her eyebrows and across her cheek bones, and peeking out from her top lip were two rounded glittery teeth, which Violet suspected would one day become part of a triple set of fangs.

  During the transformation, everyone had leaned in for a closer look.

  “Wow,” whispered Sagan.

  “Yeah,” added Gus. “That was . . . she’s—”

  “So cute!” cooed Autumn.

  “Well . . . yeah,” said Gus.

  Violet glanced up. “Have you guys ever seen . . . ?”

  Everyone shook their heads except Dawn.

  Violet turned to Sagan. “But surely you—”

  “No,” he said with a sharp shake of his head. “I’ve never seen a shifter baby before, but I have seen some Veniri with fur. They shed it by adolescence. At least, that’s the theory hunters have come up with.” He reached out and stroked the soft teal fur that now coated the majority of the baby’s body. “It’s so soft.”

  Before the baby could get too grouchy, Dawn retrieved a bottle of formula, and the infant began to suckle away.

  Violet ran a hand along her baby’s velvet-soft fur, which soon faded back into pink human skin once the bottle was empty. Then she lay back in the pillows and chewed her lip. Not only was she a new mother—a concept she could still barely get her head around—but she was a new mother to a Veniri infant. Doubt began to cloud the edges of her elation, but she forced it away, swallowing hard to relieve the tension in her throat.

  Autumn stroked her arm. “It’s okay, Violet. We’re here for you.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Gus, “you don’t have to do this alone. But”—he raised a finger—“when it comes to changing diapers, I volunteer Autumn as tribute.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes, and Violet managed a smile.

  “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to have friends like you. It’s like I’m . . .”

  “Like you’re part of our family.” Autumn squeezed her arm. “You’re an honorary Novak.”

  “Or an honorary Farrow,” piped up Gus.

  Tears welled up in Violet’s eyes, and she nodded. A few minutes passed as she struggled against the lump in her throat. “Yeah. You have no idea how grateful I am. With all that happened at college and with what happened with Nath—I mean, if it weren’t for all of you, I would never have found my solace.” She hugged her daughter tight. “You know what? I know what I want to call her.”

  The next few weeks were an adjustment not only for Violet but also for Gus, Autumn, and their families. The messy routine of diapers, feeding, crying, and sleep deprivation was exhausting, not to mention how much Violet’s boobs hurt! Who knew being a full-time milk machine had its downsides?

  Staying with the Novaks made everything so much easier. Autumn’s parents, Skye and Cruz, were godsends. They’d set up a room for Solace’s nursery and were practically live-in nannies. Cruz was a sucker for cuddles and endless games of peek-a-boo, and Skye was an angel in the kitchen, ensuring everyone was fed and happy—and shamelessly enabling Violet’s chai latte addiction, minus the cinnamon.

  The Maple Shire residents were just as welcoming with Solace’s arrival. They showered Violet and her daughter with gifts, a lot of them handmade baby clothes and cuddly toys, and constantly spoiled Solace with visits. Skye and Cruz strictly regulated the visiting hours to ensure the other Maple Shire residents didn’t arrive during Solace’s feeding times or, worse, when she was in her Veniri form. Apart from Dawn; her husband, Lazareth; Skye; Cruz; the Maple Shire leader, and only a handful of other residents who helped out in the infirmary were in the know about Solace’s blue, fuzzy side. As far as the rest of the community was concerned, shifters didn’t exist.

  Since Dawn’s shocking revelation about other shifter babies being born in the compound infirmary, Violet, Gus, Autumn, and even Sagan had all bombarded her with questions. Though Dawn declined to reveal everything to Violet and the others, she did tell them that Maple Shire was a neutral safe haven for all kinds of shifters, a kind of medical halfway house, especially for desperate human mothers who arrived at Maple Shire after discovering their lovers were shifters. Not only were these women terrified of the prospect of having a shifter child, but they weren’t sure where they could safely receive obstetric care. Dawn said she had never been able to determine the outcomes for the mothers who chose to deliver their shifter babies in a regular hospital.

  Once Dawn had helped the mothers give birth, Skye would find a new home for the mothers who needed it, as well as assist those who couldn’t raise the children themselves, helping to find new families for their infants.

  This part of the story made Violet sick to her stomach. How could someone abandon their own child? How could her own mother have done that to her?

  Dawn tried to explain that a lot of these women were in complicated situations where bringing home a shifter baby wasn’t an option. Some had come out of abusive relationships and were trying to escape their shifter partners. One woman claimed to have fled some kind of Veniri
enslavement, where she’d been forced to bear a Veniri child. Though Violet wasn’t a Veniri expert, this story seemed really far-fetched.

  No matter what excuses Dawn gave for these women, Violet just shook her head and blinked back tears of lifelong heartbreak, resentment boiling in her core.

  “Come on, time for a checkup.” Gus gently took hold of Violet’s arm and steered her toward the infirmary.

  She glanced back at her daughter’s bedroom door. “But what if—”

  “Don’t worry,” said Skye.

  “We’ll be right here the whole time,” Cruz said from the kitchen sink, where he was rinsing off some fresh produce from the vegetable garden. “We’ll hear her if she wakes up.”

  “See?” said Gus. “Aunt Skye and Uncle Cruz have it covered. Besides, you’ve had this cold for weeks now. We need to figure out what’s wrong with you. We don’t want Solace getting sick too.”

  “But I don’t need to—” Right on cue, Violet broke into a coughing fit. A glass was pressed into her hand, and she managed to take a few sips, the cool water soothing her itchy throat. “Okay,” she wheezed, withering under Gus’s condescending smirk. “I’ll go see your mom.” She shot Skye and Cruz a look. “You’ll come and get me the moment she’s awake?”

  “You have my word.” Skye’s dreadlocks, a little longer than Autumn’s, danced with her firm nod.

  Before Violet could say anything more, Gus whisked her out the door and through the gardens to the infirmary. They found Dawn beside one of the exam beds, putting a bandage on her husband, Lazareth.

  “Have the roses been attacking you again, Dad?” Gus asked.

  “It was the barbed-wire fence this time.” Autumn was lounging on one of the free beds with her laptop. “The goat twins escaped again, and Uncle Laz got tangled in the fence trying to catch them. Lucky I was walking by. Otherwise he probably would have severed his arm trying to get free.”

  “Damn goats,” said Lazareth. “It’s the third time this week. If their milk didn’t make such amazing cheese, I would have allowed Skye to serve them up for dinner ages ago.”