Tears of Life

by Shea Balik

  “I’m sure you heard Arne, so I’m going to need to go make some food before they destroy your parents’ house,” Oluf told him. “But I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

  He didn’t want them to, but Mingus found his eyes closing even as he nodded. But before he drifted off, he remembered the one girl he had sworn to protect. “Pretty Baby,” his dry throat was barely able to croak out before he just couldn’t fight the exhaustion that had come over him.

  He felt lips touch his forehead an instant before sleep took him back into its embrace.

  CHAPTER 4

  It had been two days of constant worry as Mingus healed from his wound. One Seelie had managed to get past Oluf and his friends. Just one. But that was all that was necessary.

  The Seelie knew who to attack, for he had zeroed in on Mingus, stabbing him with a knife. That was something none of them had quite understood. Why use a knife?

  The Seelie’s magic was far greater than the druids, even when they had their powers, which Mingus didn’t as he hadn’t had his twenty-first birthday yet. So, why not electrocute him or burn him? None of this made any sense.

  Brandr had stitched Mingus up and gotten the bleeding to stop, assuring Oluf that the wound itself was no longer a threat. But that, in some ways, only made it worse.

  “Is he doing better?” Brandr asked when Oluf stomped into the kitchen, pissed that he had to leave Mingus’s side because his friends couldn’t manage to make a sandwich without screwing it up.

  “He woke up.” Oluf announced and everyone who was in the room stopped what they were doing to stare at him expectantly. “His eyes were clear,” Oluf told Brandr, who had warned him it was possible he could still develop an infection.

  Plus, there was still the horrible thought that the reason the Seelie had used a knife, was because they had poisoned it. But other than that last moment when he’d fallen asleep, Mingus hadn’t appeared to be delusional as he’d stared at Oluf.

  “But he did say, ‘Pretty Baby.’ I don’t know if he was…”

  But before Oluf could finish, Elsie spoke up. “That’s just his cat. She’s fine, but after everything that has happened, has been hiding in Mingus’s closet.” She pointed a knife she was using to slice some cheese for what he assumed were going to be sandwiches, at Oluf. “Now that you’ve left, that cat will most likely come out to check on Mingus.”

  A cat? Huh. Oluf wasn’t sure how to feel about Mingus having a cat. He’d never exactly been a fan of felines, but if she was important to Mingus, Oluf would do his best to make friends with the little furball.

  In the meantime, he had food to prepare. As much as he appreciated Elsie sending up the canned soup she microwaved so Oluf could get some nutrients into Mingus, he would feel better if he made it himself. That way he’d know it had everything Mingus would need to heal.

  “Elsie, would you mind if I used your kitchen right now?” Oluf had hardly gotten the words out of his mouth before the others quickly went to Elsie’s side and gently led her out of the room with promises of the most amazing food she’d ever tasted when Oluf was done.

  He didn’t know about that, but Oluf liked to believe he was a decent chef. When she was gone, Wylie, Arne, and Kegan started listing some of the things they wanted.

  “Oh,” Arne called out after each had listed more food than Elsie could possibly have in the kitchen for him to make. “And don’t forget bacon. It’s been three days.” He held up three fingers as if that would make a difference somehow. “Three,” he repeated. “At this point, just a plateful of bacon would great.”

  Oluf would have laughed at Arne’s statement but he knew his friend meant every word. When it came to bacon, there was no one in the house that didn’t want it on a daily basis.

  Opening the fridge and looking through its meager contents, Oluf started to make a list. Then he quickly went through cupboards. “Someone is going to need to go to the store.”

  Arne surged to his feet, calling out, “What was that, Eirik? Did you need me?”

  He hadn’t even made it to the archway that led to the kitchen when Oluf said, “Either go to the store or don’t eat.” Then he glanced out the kitchen window and saw a beautiful vegetable garden. “I take it back.”

  He pointed to the window. “Assuming that garden hasn’t been picked clean, we can have a vegetable stew.”

  Arne grabbed the piece of paper from Oluf’s fist. “Store it is,” the man grumbled. “But I better get that first plate of bacon,” he told Oluf before storming out of the kitchen. “Dermot, Gillie, would either of you like to go to the store with me?”

  Gillie, who loved spending as much time with Arne as possible, instantly called, “I’ll go.” Then he raced to the front door and grabbed his little shoes.

  Since they had Velcro straps across the top he was able to usually put them on himself. Occasionally, he got them on the wrong feet, but they’d been teaching him that the ends of the straps need to go from the inside to the outside of each foot.

  “I’m ready,” Gillie yelled. “You comin’ Unc Der?”

  Dermot rolled his eyes when he glanced at his exuberant nephew, who acted like they were going to Disney World instead of the store. But it was Arne’s puppy dog eyes and long, sad expression that had Dermot chuckling as he got off the couch.

  Dermot went right up to Arne and kissed him on the lips. “You know, sooner or later that’s not going to work with me.”

  Arne grinned at him. “So long as that’s not today, I’m okay with that.”

  Oluf watched the three of them laugh as they headed out the door. A pang of loneliness squeezed his chest as he wished one day he’d have that. Sure, he’d found Mingus, but that didn’t mean they’d end up happy. Or together. There was always a chance Mingus would reject him.

  The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

  His mother’s words had Oluf heading out the back door to that garden. There may not be much food in the house at the moment but Mingus could probably only tolerate soup at this point, anyway. The least he could do is make it taste better than the stuff that came out of the can.

  For two days, Mingus had managed to eat some of the soup Oluf had made him as he healed, before he was finally well enough to leave his room. Everyone cheered at the news that Mingus would come downstairs, not so much because they’d wanted to see him, but because Oluf would only make food once a day while Mingus was still confined to his bed.

  “You really didn’t have to stay with me the whole time, you know.” Mingus told him as Oluf carried him and what had to be the ugliest cat in the world downstairs.

  When Oluf had first seen the thing that Mingus loving called, ‘Pretty Baby,’ he’d actually backed away. But the hurt on Mingus’s face stopped him before Oluf had gotten more than two steps.

  He still thought the fur ball was ugly as sin, but knowing what she’d gone through to make her appear like a miniature version of one the Unseelie’s pets, had his heart going out to her. Pretty Baby deserved whatever love she could get and if that meant Mingus talked to her like she was the most precious thing ever, well, Oluf wasn’t about to complain.

  Hopefully.

  Okay, so maybe it was a bit annoying that Mingus showered the cat with attention when he hardly spoke to Oluf. Sure, his throat was sore and talking wasn’t always easy, but he wouldn’t have minded Mingus petting even his arm, like he did that cat.

  And, yeah, the fact that, according to Elsie, Mingus had nearly died in the Seelie attack to save the cat was a bit much. Still, Pretty Baby - and how in the world anyone could ever come up with that name for such an ugly cat was more than Oluf could figure out - was important to Mingus and Mingus was important to Oluf, which meant he would protect that fleabag monster with those sharp claws and teeth with his life, even if it was her that drew first blood every damn time Oluf tried to pet her.

  “Thank you,” Mingus said as Oluf gently placed him on the chair he’d prepared. It had two pillows, one
for his back and one under him to make it more comfortable to sit.

  “My pleasure,” he told Mingus before reaching to give Pretty Baby a scratch behind the ears. He didn’t even wince when she swiped at him with those tiny claws of hers. “How old is Pretty Baby, anyway?” he asked, sure she was still a kitten, which was why her claws felt more like razorblades as they sliced through his skin.

  “Six months.” Then Mingus smiled down at his cat and cooed at her, “Isn’t that right, my Pretty Baby? You’re still my little girl, but soon you’ll be all grown up.” His long fingers stroked the feline’s back, then scratched her under the chin before reassuring her, “But don’t you worry, because you’ll always be my Pretty Baby. Yes, you will.”

  Damn it if Oluf didn’t wish for just a small portion of that attention for himself. What in the hell was wrong him? Jealous of a cat? If the guys knew, they’d be laughing their heads off.

  Right on cue, in walked all the couples. Mingus’s parents were watching the kids as they played outside close to the house. Tess assured them the Fae wouldn’t be attacking until the ritual, but things could always change.

  Oluf had hoped they would be home by then, but since it was the day after tomorrow, he didn’t think it such a wise idea to put Mingus through the long trip, on top of needing to perform the ritual. That meant they would be staying there.

  It also meant the place wasn’t quite as secure as their own home, which admittedly, they’d recently found out, wasn’t quite as safe as they’d hoped. Still, it was better, ensuring they didn’t have to be on guard every moment of every day.

  Wylie, who had sat next to Mingus asked him, “Did you just call Oluf your ‘Pretty Baby.’” He held up his hands outward at the level of his chest. “Not judging since I call Fritjof, Buttercup.”

  Mingus chuckled at the nickname. “No,” he told Wylie. “Pretty Baby is my cat.” Then he held up the cat, which had been partially tucked under the table on Mingus’s lap, making it hard to see her.

  Wylie jerked away, nearly toppling himself and the chair over in the process. “Dude,” he told Mingus. “Warn a person before you show that…that…” Wylie’s entire face showed horror and disgust as he pointed at the cat. “Monstrosity.” He finally finished. “I mean, seriously, that thing could be the spawn of one of the Unseelie’s pets.”

  As if afraid the cat’s cooties might rub off on him, Wylie stood up and sat down on the other side of Fritjof, like he was some sort of shield.

  Mingus wasn’t one to take any criticism of Pretty Baby, that much Oluf had learned the past couple of days. Shaking a finger at Wylie, Mingus told his friend, “You take that back right now. Pretty Baby is beautiful.” Then he held the kitten up to his face and cooed at her. “Aren’t you, my sweet girl?”

  In an obvious effort to stave off any more arguments, Ryley asked, “Are you up for some explanations?”

  Mingus tilted his head at his friend as Oluf got the ingredients for breakfast. First he decided to make up some pancake batter, since Mingus had confessed blueberry pancakes were his favorite.

  Gillie and Bryce preferred banana, while Tess always wanted strawberry and vanilla. It would be easy enough to make them all once he’d made the main batter. He’d just have to split it into separate bowls and mix in the different fruits before cooking.

  As he got to work pouring in flour, because he always made everything from scratch, he heard Mingus say, “That would be nice, because, not that I’m not grateful, but how did you know to show up when you did?”

  Oluf only hoped Mingus knew what he was asking, because even after living for over twelve hundred years, Oluf’s mind still reeled with how fucked up things were.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Wait a second.” Mingus wasn’t entirely sure any of this was real. For all he knew, he could still be unconscious and dreaming this shit. The only problem with that theory? He wasn’t that inventive.

  Not even close.

  That the eight men who had arrived with six of Mingus’s friends from the past, were actually Vikings who were born in the seven hundreds, was just… well, crazy. Add to it, they had been cursed with immortality after the raiding party they’d been on had interrupted one of Mingus’s own ancestors from sealing the Veil with a spell… yeah, completely out of this world, level of insane.

  But that hadn’t been all. Not by a long shot.

  “Did you honestly just tell me that along with cursing you with immortality, you were given the ability to shift into an animal?” Nope. Mingus was done when everyone started to nod.

  This had to be some sort of elaborate hoax. Had to. But how did he prove it?

  His gaze fell on the bacon. Mingus was a vegetarian. He hated the thought of animals dying just so he could eat. He also couldn’t stand that they might be kept in cages so he could have eggs or stuck in overcrowded barns for milk or cheese.

  But knowing he needed the protein from more than just plant sources, Mingus had done the next best thing. He raised both chickens and cows. That way he knew they were well taken care of, yet he was still able to eat things like eggs and dairy products.

  It wasn’t perfect, but when he’d tried to go vegan, his body hadn’t tolerated it well and he’d ended up so anemic, that his doctor warned him if something didn’t change he’d end up in the hospital.

  “And you,” he said to Oluf. “are a boar?”

  Oluf nodded, not finding the fact disturbing that he was piling what had to be several pounds of bacon on a platter. “Yes, I am.”

  “Then how can you possibly cook and eat bacon?” Mingus asked. “Wouldn’t that be considered a type of cannibalism.”

  Arne, who was across the table from him, gasped, before launching himself across the surface of the table and clamping his hand over Mingus’s mouth. Scared out of her mind, Pretty Baby screeched before leaping from Mingus’s lap, claws extended, going right for Arne’s face.

  The Viking had barely managed to get his other arm up in time to save his face from being clawed, but his arm came away with long ugly scratches. Then Pretty Baby raced from the room like her tail was on fire.

  Mingus would have yelled at Arne for scaring her like that, but his hand was still over Mingus’s mouth. “Bacon is sacred,” Arne told him. “Don’t fuck with my bacon, got it?”

  Then suddenly Arne was gone and Mingus watched in shock as his body went sailing through the air before slamming into a wall. Mingus looked up to find Oluf bending over him, a finger gently touching his face. “Are you okay?” Oluf asked. “Did he hurt you?”

  “N-no.” Mingus wasn’t sure what he was concerned with more, that Oluf just threw Arne across the room as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll. Or, and the one that was most on his mind at the moment, that everywhere Oluf touched, tingling broke out along his skin, skittering across the surface.

  “What the fuck, Oluf?” Arne yelled. “I wouldn’t hurt Mingus, you know that.”

  A low rumbling rose up from Oluf’s chest, and damn if that didn’t have those butterflies he’d recently been feeling whenever Oluf was around start to flutter wildly. The amber flecks in Oluf’s eyes flashed with an air of danger as he turned to glare at Arne.

  “He is still recovering from nearly dying,” Oluf reminded him.

  Arne nodded and hung his head as if he’d forgotten that fact. “Okay, I’m sorry. But in fairness, he was trying to give you reasons not to serve bacon,” Arne said as if that was reason enough. When Oluf didn’t soften his expression in the least, Arne kept going. “Oh, come on. It was bacon. I don’t even think it’s human for anyone not to like bacon.”

  Arne kept emphasizing bacon, like it was all that really mattered. By the several who were nodding around the table as Arne spoke, it might just have been, for them anyway.

  “It was an animal,” Mingus reminded them. “How can you be okay with eating another living thing?”

  Oluf curled his lips inward as if fearing he might say something Mingus wouldn’t like. The others didn’t
have that problem as they listed why it was so good and all the ways you could cook different kinds of animals.

  When Oluf held up his hand, the others, thankfully, stopped. “Are you vegetarian, vegan, or somewhere in the middle?”

  That this man just accepted that he didn’t like to eat animals had Mingus smiling up at him like a goofball. He was just so damn happy, because his parents thought he was crazy. Pretty much everyone in their tiny little town, too. In fairness, they lived in the woods in Michigan. The thought of eating animals was not exactly a concern when they were often the ones hunting them.

  “Lacto-Ovo,” he said, sure he was going to have to explain it.

  But Oluf surprised him. “So you don’t eat animals but are cool with dairy and eggs, correct?”

  Mingus was sure his smile actually got even bigger. “Yes. You’ve heard of it?”

  Oluf nodded. “There have been a lot of druids that have come to us for protection. Being the main cook, I’ve learned a lot.” He winked at Mingus, sending those butterflies off again. “I’ve even developed quite a few recipes I think you’ll like.”

  “I can’t wait to try them.” Mingus was always looking for ways to cook food that added variety, especially since he was the one who had to cook his own food. His mom always said, she wasn’t a vegetarian so she wasn’t about to not add meat into her meals.

  He couldn’t really blame her, but he was interested in seeing what Oluf would make for him.

  “Please tell me that doesn’t mean we’re going to have to go without meat?” Arne pleaded as he took his seat across the table. “I don’t think I could do it.” There was panic in Arne’s voice as if just the thought was going to kill him.

  Oluf sighed and went to the counter by the stove. He grabbed the two platters of bacon that he’d cooked and set them on the table, one right in front of Arne.

  “Oh, thank God,” Arne said way too dramatically as he took a handful of bacon strips and shoved them into his mouth. Mingus was beginning to understand Arne was on the melodramatic side.