Were-Geeks Save Lake Wacka Wacka

by Kathy Lyons

  He stepped closer. He had to see. He needed to know if it was true.

  Others were coming over as well. On two feet or four, they edged closer, but Laddin was holding the child as if it was the most precious gift in the world. Which, now that Bruce thought about it, it was.

  “Hey, little Aaron. I’m your daddy,” Laddin cooed. “Well, I’m Daddy Number One. Daddy Number Two is over there.” He looked up. “Come on, Number Two, say hi to your son.”

  Josh had made it to Bruce’s side. His face had a streak of mud across it, but that didn’t dim his grin. “You have all the fairy magic in the world, and you make a baby with it? What, no power left over to give Uncle Josh a Ferrari?”

  Bruce shot his brother a look. “You can’t even drive a stick! What the hell would you do with a Ferrari?”

  “Give the car to Uncle Nero,” Nero said with a happy grumble. “Go on,” he said, nudging Bruce’s shoulder. “Go say hello to what you made.”

  It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t even logical. And yet Bruce stumbled forward, and as he stood there looking stupid, Laddin offered him the baby. He hadn’t intended to take it, but he couldn’t let the child fall, could he? The feeling of having little Aaron in his arms was perfect, and the little pink bow the baby’s lips made as he sucked on his fist was even more perfect. Bruce didn’t know what to think. He sure as hell couldn’t be feeling this swell of love for a child that used to be a demon.

  “It’s not real,” he murmured.

  “Sure looks real,” whispered the older man who—he now realized—couldn’t speak above a whisper.

  “Yeah,” chuckled Josh. “Please say I can be there when you explain this to Mom.”

  “No!” Bruce said, his voice hard. “No parents. No others. Not yet.” Not until he could wrap his own head around it. Then he looked at Laddin. “Did we really make a baby? Did we really make our baby?”

  “Yes,” an arrogant voice said. “Yes, you did. One born of love and magic. It’s unusual, to be sure, but he is definitely your firstborn child.”

  It took Bruce a moment to recognize the voice—and then even longer to make himself look up from his child to see the fucking fairy prince standing there.

  Bitterroot. And the asshole had said firstborn child.

  The guy wasn’t dressed in salad right now. Instead, he was tall, dark, and his black eyes glittered with excitement. Bitterroot brushed a butterfly off his shoulder and reached for the child.

  Bruce pulled back the child, and Laddin stepped between them.

  “Get back, you fairy bastard!” Laddin growled.

  “It is my right,” Bitterroot said firmly. “The child is mine by bargain of power. The very same power you used to create him.”

  “Oh, child,” Lady Kinstead said, her voice ringing with dismay. “You didn’t bargain away your baby, did you?” She looked at Wulfric. “Didn’t we make a rule? No fairy deals? Didn’t we?”

  Wulfric nodded, but he didn’t speak to her. Instead he turned to Bitterroot. “There must be—”

  “I will not speak with Wulfric the Deceiver.”

  Wulfric pressed his lips together, dipped his chin, and took a step back. With him went Lady Kinstead, her expression infinitely sad. But even as he stepped back, Nero pressed forward.

  “Come on, Bitterroot. What would you do with a magic demon child anyway?”

  “This child will be cherished beyond anything you can imagine,” Bitterroot snapped. “The bargain was made, the power used, and the child is mine!”

  “No,” Bruce said loudly. “Absolutely not. This is not my firstborn child. I didn’t—we didn’t give birth to him. We—” He didn’t really know what they’d done, but it didn’t seem to matter. He could see that in Bitterroot’s face.

  “Do not fight me on this,” Bitterroot said, his voice heavy with menace. “You will not win.”

  “You can’t have him—” Bruce said.

  “We won’t give him up—” Laddin said at the same moment.

  Bitterroot squared his shoulders and raised his hands. The butterfly that had been dancing around his shoulder settled into his open palm. “You will die, and I will still have the child,” he said. But before he could do more, Yordan rushed forward. His big hands were raised palm out, and his bullhorn-like voice echoed in the clearing.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Let’s not go talking about dying, okay? We just finished with one demon, we don’t need to go making another.” He glanced over at Bruce. “No offense.”

  Bruce didn’t even understand what the man was saying. He was too focused on finding a way out. How did they escape the fairy prince’s bargain?

  Meanwhile, Nero came to stand shoulder to shoulder with Yordan as they looked at Bitterroot.

  “What would it take to leave the child alone?” Nero asked. “What do you want instead—”

  “There is no instead,” Bitterroot interrupted. “I need the child.” Then his voice took on a softer note. “He will be cherished and adored above even myself. You don’t know what a human child means in Fairyland.” He shook his head. “There is nothing else you can offer me.”

  “I won’t—” Bruce argued, but Stratos cut him off.

  “What about time?”

  Everyone looked at her in confusion.

  “You mean like visitation?” Yordan asked. “One weekend here, one weekend there?”

  “I’m not giving up the rights to my child!” Bruce said.

  “You already gave up your right to him when you ate the apple,” Bitterroot countered.

  Which was true. But he never expected to make a baby. And certainly not this way.

  Stratos held up her hand as she focused on Bitterroot. “Look, we’ve just finished the mother of all battles. We don’t even know if it worked. We don’t know yet if Earth has been saved.”

  “It has,” Bitterroot said, twisting his head enough so that he could flick his gaze to where Feta stood with Erin on his shoulder. “You have healed the land? No more poison in the water or the soil?”

  “Yes, Fairy Prince,” Feta said, worship in his tone.

  “No, Fairy Prince,” Erin said, her voice equally awed.

  “What?” Bitterroot snapped. “Why no?”

  “I mean there is no poison.” She hopped on Feta’s shoulder as she looked at Bruce and Laddin. “Their love is very strong. We were able to heal everything.”

  Bruce blew out a breath, and he wasn’t the only one. Earth was safe. Wisconsin was healed. That was very good. But it didn’t mean he was giving up Aaron.

  “What I meant,” Stratos said clearly, “was that we’re still regrouping. Doesn’t magic take a while in all those fairy stories? Aurora’s curse didn’t kick in until her sixteenth birthday. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t show up in the delivery room. Give these guys some time before they have to think of giving up the baby. They’re not even dressed yet.”

  Bitterroot folded his arms, his expression angry. “Do you think to find a way out by morning? You will not. The child will still be mine.”

  “Maybe so,” Bing said. “But it is what humans do. We hold, we love, and we grieve. All these things take time.”

  “Yeah,” Yordan added. “You’re immortal. What is one more day to you?”

  “I am not immortal,” Bitterroot grumbled. “But I can be kind, though I do not think it will ease your pain.” He took a breath. “In the morning, then. At dawn.”

  “At our tree!” Feta said with a bright voice. “We will host you at our tree!”

  Bitterroot didn’t even acknowledge the pixie. Instead, he looked at Laddin and Bruce. “Agreed?”

  Neither Bruce nor Laddin spoke. Bruce didn’t want to say yes to anything, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? He’d agreed before. And while he was thinking of making a run for it, the fairy bastard made it worse.

  “You cannot outrun me,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Your power comes from me. So, do I take the child now? Or in the morning?”

  Bruce looked at Laddin and sa
w agony reflected back to him. Agony, pain, and no hope whatsoever.

  Bruce sighed. “In the morning.”

  Chapter 25

  ANYBODY KNOW HOW TO BURP A BABY?

  LADDIN CARRIED the baby on the way back. They didn’t say a word. Bruce was giving back-off vibes to anyone who came near, and Laddin was too busy holding a now fussy baby in his arms to talk to anyone, though Uncle Josh hovered nearby and winced at an angry cry.

  “I bet he’s hungry. I could eat a horse.”

  They all were. A werewolf romp always ended in a feast. Only they’d followed their romp with a battle, so food was weighing heavy on everyone’s mind.

  “There might be kangaroo meat back where we were,” Nero said.

  Josh cut him off. “No. Never. I’m not going to eat anything that tried to kill us.”

  “That’s the exact opposite of the warrior code,” Stratos countered. She dropped her voice to mimic a barrel-chested fighter. “We kill, we eat.” Then she grunted twice for good measure.

  “Didn’t you kill a lich?”

  She sighed. “That’s twice I’ve battled that thing. If it comes back a third time, I want a badge or something.”

  “Lich Killer Queen?” Josh offered. He started improvising lyrics as they walked to the road Josh had indicated earlier. A support van was waiting in the distance. Hopefully it would have burgers for everyone. And bonus, he knew the van had emergency baby supplies.

  Laddin looked to Bruce, but the guy was still bristling. His shoulders were hunched, his fists remained at the ready, and he kept sniffing like a wolf on the prowl. Laddin didn’t blame him. He felt equally angry, equally protective. The problem was, everyone else was busy celebrating the win.

  They’d defeated the demon. It didn’t matter that the thing had been transmuted into a baby. It was no longer killing Lake Wacka Wacka, Wisconsin, or the world, and that called for teasing banter, a feast, and beers all around. It was only Laddin who felt like his world was ending. And maybe Bruce too. But everyone else was breathing a huge sigh of relief and looking for a place to celebrate.

  Laddin pulled Aaron close to his chest so he could sing the child a lullaby his mother had taught him. It worked for a time. Aaron quieted and snuggled close while Laddin inhaled the smell of a new baby. His baby.

  “Wiz and I will do a supplies run,” Stratos said as she stepped near. “Who knew he has ten siblings and knows all about baby stuff?” She shrugged. “Plus, his Bag of Holding had clothes and money in it, so we can get going as soon as the Uber gets here.”

  “It’s an infinite bag, right? Why not keep a motorcycle in it?” Josh asked.

  “Because it’s not a TARDIS,” Wiz said.

  “Well, obviously,” Josh drawled. “A TARDIS would be way more useful right now.”

  “Thanks,” Laddin said to Stratos, ignoring the others. She nodded in response, but her gaze landed on the baby.

  “Look, I’m here to help,” she said gently. “And I didn’t hear everything that went down, but….” She took a breath as she raised her hand to touch Aaron’s hair before pulling back. “Isn’t he… you know… a demon?”

  “No, he’s not,” Laddin denied, his voice forceful. Bruce reacted too. His head whipped around as he bared his teeth at Stratos. She threw up her hands and backed away.

  “Okay, okay! I can see that you guys know what you’re doing.” But her voice implied the exact opposite. “I was just asking a question.”

  Wiz continued, his voice coldly matter-of-fact. “That same question is going to dog him his entire life.”

  “He’s not a demon,” Laddin repeated, but shit, the question wouldn’t go away. He saw it on everyone’s face, including Bruce’s. And he felt it inside his own heart. He’d been right there. He knew exactly what had happened. His love, Bruce’s love, and fairy magic had taken all their good thoughts and changed a manifestation of anxiety and pain—the demon—into a manifestation of love—Aaron. Good thoughts defeated bad ones by a thousand to one. Always. Assuming the feelings were real. Assuming the love was real. Assuming….

  Laddin pressed his cheek to Aaron’s and closed his eyes. There were so many doubts creeping into his head, and he knew if they were coming into his brain, they were crawling into Bruce’s as well.

  What he hadn’t counted on was that the director of Wulf, Inc. would choose to add to those doubts. But there he was—a middle-aged man who was still hard-bodied despite his hangdog expression—waiting for them by the van. He spoke quietly to Stratos and Wiz and then gestured for Laddin and Bruce to step into his waiting limo.

  Great.

  Except Laddin wasn’t going to step in until he got a few things first. Apparently he was the only one who knew that there was baby formula, diapers, and a couple of onesies in the support van. Why they’d been put there, he had no idea, but he was thankful for them.

  He gently handed Aaron to Bruce so he could get the supplies. But even though the man took the baby quickly, Laddin was busy analyzing Bruce’s expression. Had he been reluctant? Had he seen a grimace of distaste when Bruce took the child? Was he having second thoughts?

  His own thoughts made him crazy, so it was a relief to mix the formula while Bruce diapered and clothed the child with deft fingers. Apparently paramedics practiced for this sort of thing. But when Laddin was about to hand Bruce the bottle, Bruce shook his head.

  “You do it. I want to be able to shift if I need to.”

  “We’re not going to be in any danger from the director.”

  Bruce arched a brow. “Are you sure?”

  Laddin started to say, “Of course. He’s on our side.” But sides could change. And Laddin needed to be with Aaron in case things took a bad turn. “I hope I’m sure,” Laddin finally said as he adjusted the baby in his arms and started feeding him.

  Aaron took to the bottle immediately, growing less fussy now that he was eating. Then Bruce grabbed a few protein bars from the van, and together they walked to the director’s limo, feeling as if they were heading for a firing squad.

  Oh goody.

  They climbed in without saying a word. The director was already seated where he could look straight at them. He spoke in a whisper—always—because he’d lost his voice in a battle with a vamp back when the bloodsuckers were the bad guys. Maybe that was why they were in a limo—for the quiet ride—because even though the guy whispered, Laddin heard every word.

  “Start with what happened,” the director whispered. He pointed at Laddin. “Go.”

  Laddin explained everything in detail—everything he remembered, felt, and believed. And most especially, he told the director that Aaron was a baby, not a demon, and anyone who had a problem with that could come talk to him.

  The director listened with focused attention. He didn’t question, didn’t interrupt, and he sure as hell didn’t give anything away.

  After Laddin was finished, the director pointed at Bruce. “Your turn. Go.”

  Bruce pointed at Laddin. “What he said. One hundred percent.”

  The director’s lips curved. “Nice try. Report.”

  Bruce blew out a breath, but he started talking. It was gratifying to hear Bruce echo Laddin’s thoughts that Aaron had been created out of their love and fairy magic.

  When Bruce was done, he fell silent. They all did. Then they watched as Aaron finished eating and Laddin had to adjust to burp him. Pat, pat, pat.

  Nothing.

  Shit. Wasn’t the kid supposed to burp?

  Pat, pat, pat.

  Nothing.

  Maybe he didn’t need to burp. Laddin looked to Bruce, who shrugged in response.

  Then the director sighed. “Give him here. You can’t just pat. You have to rub his back too.”

  Come again?

  The director huffed out a breath. “I’m going to show you two bachelors how to burp a baby. Come on. I’ve got three kids, and I always did the 2:00 a.m. feeding. I know how to do this.”

  Neither Laddin nor Bruce knew what to say t
o that, so Laddin passed over the baby, and they were suddenly getting a lesson in burping. Pat twice then rub. Pat, pat, rub.

  Aaron burped on the second rub.

  “There you go,” the director whispered as he cuddled the child in his arms. “You’ll figure it out. He’ll probably let go into his diaper soon. That’s how it was with my kids. Input, burp, output. Then sleep.”

  Bruce frowned. “So you believe us? You know—”

  “That he’s a real boy?”

  Bruce nodded.

  “Hell if I know. Magic can do some amazing things. It can also royally fuck you up. You boys up for both sides of that equation?”

  Laddin nodded firmly—fiercely—and Bruce seemed to echo it.

  “I’ll need regular reports on the boy as he grows. He was created during a Wulf, Inc. operation, so according to the Accords, we’re responsible for him. I’m going to need to keep a close eye on him.”

  “How close?” Bruce asked.

  “Daily visits while he’s little. Not because I need them but because I like kids. It’s the teenagers who piss me off.” Then he frowned, probably because Bruce was scowling. “Okay, weekly for the first three months. Then we can go to monthly. This is new territory here, boys. We’ve never had a demon turned adorable baby before.” He abruptly stopped speaking and peered at the child’s face. “Why does he have a scar on his chin?”

  Bruce groaned as he fingered his own chin. “We did not give him my scar, did we?” he asked Laddin.

  Laddin chuckled. “I think we did.”

  “You did that,” Bruce accused. “But at least he got your nose.”

  He did, and Laddin felt another wave of love for the child.

  “What are you going to do about the fairy prince?”

  So much for that warm rush of love. All of a sudden, everything inside him clenched tight.

  “The fairy prince is not lying,” the director continued. “A human child is treated with reverence in Fairyland. He’d be cherished over there—”

  “No.” It took a moment for Laddin to realize that he’d been the one to say the word out loud. Sure, he’d been thinking it, but apparently he’d been thinking it so loudly that it tumbled out of his mouth. “I’m not giving up my baby to that prick.”