He was a true Brownstone.
“Welcome to Earth, Thomas James Brownstone,” James rumbled. “You’re a miracle in more ways than you know, and you have your Brownstone family and all our extended friends and family. We’ll be nice and give you a few weeks before we let them all come and pinch your cheeks.”
A nurse smiled softly at Shay. “We need to weigh him and take a few other measurements.” She gently took the crying baby from Shay and brought him over to the scale after writing a few notes down. “Nine pounds, four ounces.”
“Even though he’s premature?” Shay asked, her voice quiet.
“It’s a healthy weight,” the doctor explained. “A bit on the bigger side. He has perfect Apgar scores. We’ll need to do a few more tests, but this baby isn’t showing any of the symptoms associated with premature birth. If he’s this big already, it was a good thing he came out when he did.”
Does it mean… It could, but does it?
James took a few deep breaths, trying to control his racing heart. He squeezed Shay’s hand. “I need to step out for a second. I need to have a chat with my close friend WD about the baby. Is that okay?”
Shay nodded slowly. “I’m pretty sure we both have the same question.
“I’ll stay with her, Dad,” Alison offered him a smile. “You do what you need to do. The important part’s over.”
James stumbled out of the room, only vaguely aware of his surroundings. He had a new child. He had a son, and the boy was completely healthy, despite being born a month early. There was no weird splotches or discolorations. He looked completely human. That wasn’t impossible, but it did make him wonder. He found a dark corner in a hallway and reached into his shirt, then yanked the spacer off and grimaced as he bonded with Whispy.
Initiation, the symbiont announced. What is the nature of the enemy?
There’s no enemy. My kid was just born.
Full reproduction achieved. Any damage to offspring?
The doctor says he’s fine, James sent. Perfect, even.
That is well inside the expected parameters, Whispy replied.
But they haven’t run any genetic tests.
Based on past information, standard human genetic tests will be insufficient to detect the hybrid nature of offspring.
I let it go before, James sent. But you said something that made me think you’d changed him, maybe modified him. I need to know the truth now. What is he? Is he human? Is he Vax? He looks human. He doesn’t have the weirdness like I do on my face, let alone the coloring of a full Vax. I don’t care if he’s human as long as he’ll be healthy.
Something approaching pride radiated from Whispy.
Because of unfamiliarity with long-term effects of germline modification in hybrid, minimal enhancement was performed, but offspring should have complete compatibility with fundamental symbiont matrix. All existing adaptations will transfer with minimal adjustment required.
James ran his hand over the amulet beneath this shirt. It was a legacy now, something he could pass onto his son. It linked his son to his parents and Father Thomas. He wasn’t sure if being compatible with the amulet was a good or bad thing for this boy, but at least, unlike James, his son would understand his true nature and the amulet’s nature from the very beginning of his life instead of spending decades stumbling around, hoping for answers.
You’re a weapon, but you’re also my heritage. Does this mean you’ll be serving descendants of mine a thousand years from now?
That probability is currently impossible to calculate, due to insufficient data.
James chuckled. He’d leave the future Brownstones to worry about that kind of thing.
The sound of shattering glass came from farther down the hallway. James narrowed his eyes and walked that way. A doctor emerged from a side room with a briefcase in hand. A huge fresh yellow stain discolored his white coat. He stared at James for a moment, something odd in his eyes. Fear.
What? Did he just screw something up?
James raised a hand. “Hey, I’ve got a couple of questions about tests that maybe you could answer. Specifically, genetic tests.
The man’s eyes widened, and he sprinted toward a fire door.
“What the fuck?” James muttered.
Engage and kill enemy, Whispy suggested.
First, we have to figure out what’s going on. He might just be an incompetent doctor.
James ran after the man. He might be an incompetent doctor, or he might be something far more sinister. No one was going to threaten his newborn son.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The alarm blared as the doctor rushed out the door, gripping the briefcase tightly. James crashed through the door a moment later, emerging into a side parking lot.
“Hey, Doctor Asshole, stop!” James shouted. “Where are you going? What are you so scared of?”
A security guard holding a stun rod ran around the corner.
Shit. I don’t have time for this. I hope he doesn’t try to stop me.
“What’s going on?” the guard asked.
James pointed to the fleeing doctor. “Do you know that guy?”
“Excuse me, Doctor,” the guard called. “I need you to stop for a moment so I can check your…” His eyes narrowed as the man pulled out a pistol. The guard leapt behind the wall as he opened fire. Bullets bounced off the brick wall, sparking.
James slammed his fist into his palm. “Hey, asshole! If you want to shoot someone, try me.”
The gunmen turned and bared his teeth. Three quick shots followed. The bullets bounced off James’ hardened skin, stinging.
Minor damage sustained to unarmored skin, Whispy reported. Regeneration in progress.
“You’re gonna stop right now,” James shouted, slapping a hand on his chest. “I’m calm despite the situation, but if you end up pissing me off, it’s not gonna be a good day for you. You understand?”
The man grunted and emptied his magazine into James. A pile of crumpled bullets soon lay at his feet.
“Don’t you get it?” James growled. “That’s not gonna work.”
The gunman tossed the pistol to the ground and sprinted toward a black sedan across the parking lot.
Panicked idiot. You should have parked your car closer to the emergency door, just in case. It’s not like the distance would have mattered if you got out without being noticed.
James pumped his legs, quickly closing on the man, and he tackled the gunman. The other man thudded hard on the ground, his arm smacking the pavement with an audible crack. He screamed in pain and released the briefcase, which skidded a few feet away, the rough surface scratching the leather.
The security guard poked his head around the corner and jogged toward James, his stun rod in hand, a lot more confident now that the other man was unarmed and on the ground with a class-six bounty hunter standing over him.
James reached into the gunman’s pockets and yanked out his wallet and phone. He tossed them to the security guard. “You already call the cops?”
“They’ll be here soon,” the guard replied. He thumbed through the wallet before frowning and shaking his head. “He’s got no birthing suite credentials, and I don’t recognize him. I’ve worked here for ten years, and I even recognize a lot of doctors from across town who have visited the birthing center.”
James yanked the whimpering gunman to his feet, his eyes blazing. “Do you have any fucking idea who I am? I think you do, but part of me wants to believe you don’t. Otherwise, you’re a man with a death wish.” He shook the man. “Say my fucking name.”
“James Brownstone,” the man replied. “You broke my arm, Brownstone.”
Kill the enemy, Whispy demanded. Minimize the risk to offspring until tactical self-sufficiency.
James grabbed the man by the neck and lifted. It’d be easy to crush his throat. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you here? Did you come here to screw with my kid? If you tell me the truth, I won’t kill you, but if you lie to me, and I find out you
came to hurt my kid, there’s no army on Earth or Oriceran that’ll be able to protect you.”
The gunman’s breath caught. His eyes widened. “It’s not like that. I’m not here to hurt the kid. I would never hurt your kid, Brownstone. That’s suicide. Everyone knows it.”
“You have ten seconds to talk about why you’re here before I crush your throat,” James growled. “My hand’s getting mighty twitchy.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. The police would be there soon, but James wanted his own information. He would protect his family first and foremost.
“I was paid to get some blood samples,” the man cried. “That’s all. They said I didn’t even have to be in the same room with the kid. They told me what to look for and got me some codes, and I was just supposed to grab the vials and run. But then I was checking them and I dropped one, and I panicked.”
“Blood samples? They haven’t even taken that stuff yet.”
The gunman nodded, gritting his teeth, his broken arm hanging loosely from his side. His eyes were watering from the pain. “They said to get some blood samples from the Brownstone kid and I’d get paid. I swear no one said anything about hurting the kid. I wouldn’t have taken that kind of job, even if they’d paid me a billion dollars.”
James tossed the man to the ground and sneered. “I’m only not killing you because it’ll make too much paperwork for the police.” He nodded to the security guard. The other man nodded back, shaking his stun rod at the gunman.
“Mr. Brownstone,” the man on the other end answered. “I, as a representative of the Family, am always honored when you call, rare as it is. It also disheartens me that our only lengthy conversation was at your wedding. Word on the street is, your boy was born. Congratulations. A gift will be coming soon.”
“You don’t need to send me a gift,” James rumbled.
“I think I already know, but to what specifically do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“I’ve been calling all the local heads because something disturbing happened at the birthing center. Someone was there yesterday, and they were paid to try to steal blood samples from my son. I caught them messing around in a back room, and they shot at a guard and me. They could have killed someone. They could have killed my son.”
The mobster hissed. “This is unacceptable disrespect. I take it you killed this piece of shit? I would have.”
“Nah. The cops have him and are still interrogating him. He was paid anonymously over the net for the job, but I’m just calling around to make sure you and everyone else can spread the word. Fucking with my son is worse than fucking with me. I’m willing to destroy whole buildings over this kind of thing.” James let deep menace seep into his voice. “I trust that everyone understands that?”
“I can’t speak for everyone, Mr. Brownstone,” the mobster replied. “But I understand, which means my people understand by extension. We Family men always understand. I’ll spread the word, both to my family and to others outside. I have one question for you, if I may take your time.”
“What?” James replied.
“If we happen to find the gentleman who dared disrespect you, can we do what’s necessary? Certain things shouldn’t be done, and it’s important that everyone who swims in our circles understands that.”
James took a deep breath. “If you find out who did it, let me know, but I don’t care how it’s handled. Mostly I just want them to understand they will leave LA, and I want everyone else to understand this is the one and only time I won’t kill people over this. Next time, what I’ll do will make what I did to the Harriken look nice. This boy is a miracle, and no one will threaten him.”
The mobster sighed. “I understand, Mr. Brownstone. We all do what we have to do to protect our families. You have my sympathies for that unpleasantness you encountered on the otherwise joyous day of your son’s birth. Have a good day, sir.”
James ended the call and grunted. He wasn’t worried. He already had a fairly good idea who had done it. According to Tyler’s information, a minor Russian mobster had fled his home a couple of hours after the incident at the birthing suite. He was found with his throat slit in an LAX bathroom. His superiors in the organization had noted the man’s death in passing when James had called to give the same speech he had just delivered. They explained that some men chose poorly and didn’t understand respect, and they too pledged to keep an eye out.
He didn’t blame them for not wanting to admit what had happened. Everyone was on edge, and an organization might think James would blame all of them and deliver his unique and explosive brand of justice.
It didn’t matter. His son would be coming home that night, where he would be safe with his mother, father, and sister. James just wanted the entire underworld to understand that Thomas James Brownstone was off-limits.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Baby Thomas lay snuggled on his mother’s chest, his eyes closed as he napped. James sat beside them on the couch. He hadn’t realized just how much newborn babies slept. Growing up in an orphanage hadn’t helped since they’d had few infants at the orphanage over the years. People might be reluctant to adopt older kids, but babies were generally snapped up long before they ended up in an orphanage or foster care.
Shay smiled down at the baby. “I think he looks more like me than you, James. Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. I’m actually happy he looks more like you than me.” James ran his hand over his cheek. “I’m an ugly motherfucker.”
“I disagree with that, but I’m not going to argue that I’m not hotter than you.” Shay grinned.
“At least he doesn’t have white hair,” Alison joked. “Of course, those would be some interesting genetics, even if I am a magical.”
James shrugged. “The way I see it, he’ll grow up to be a handsome ass-kicker, but I don’t really give a shit what he looks like as long as he’s not a dumbass idiot.”
“Isn’t that kind of the same thing?” Alison asked.
“Nope. There are subtle differences between being a dumbass and an idiot,” James insisted.
“I’ll take your word for it, Dad.” Alison chuckled.
Shay smiled at Alison. “And I want to apologize to you, Alison. It’s been bothering me for a few days, but with everything that’s been happening, I didn’t get a chance to bring it up.”
The young woman’s face scrunched in confusion. “For what, Mom? I can’t think of anything you have to apologize to me for.”
Shay shook her head. “We messed up your vacation. I’m glad Mason’s handling it well.” She frowned. “Although I wish he’d hurry up and come back from the store with those strawberries. He’s a life wizard. He should have just poofed some with a spell.”
“Sorry about the strawberries.” Alison beamed a smile at her brother. “And the vacation can wait. I have a brother. Sure, he just sleeps, poops, and cries, but at least he’s not talking back yet. Thomas is so cute.”
Shay stared at Alison. “Getting any ideas?”
James watched her carefully.
“I’m having a lot of trouble figuring out my wedding plans,” Alison replied. “I think my kid plans can wait a few more years.”
“Just saying. Your life.”
“No hurry, Alison,” James added. “You can come visit Thomas anytime you want.”
Thomas the dog lay at James’ feet. He poked his head up and stared at his master.
Alison laughed. “When Baby Thomas gets a little older, he’s going to get really confused why he’s named after the dog. This might lead to him getting bullied at school.”
James snorted. “Anyone who bullies him will quickly learn why you don’t fuck with a Brownstone, and he’s not named after the dog. You know that. They’re both named after Father Thomas. I feel no shame over that. He was a good man, and I’ll continue to honor him in every way.
Alison grinned. “Sure, Dad, whatever you say.” She turned to the dog. “I know he loves you, boy.”
The dog barked and wagged his tail. He’d sniffed the baby a few times but otherwise seemed uninterested. It’d be a long time before Baby Thomas could play with Thomas the dog, so for now, that was enough.
Shay stroked the soft hair of her son, her face utterly content. James had never seen her so completely relaxed and carefree.
“I know you’ve been keeping it from me, James,” she began, “because you didn’t want to stress me out, but are we going to have any more trouble with curious fans? I’d rather not burn up my maternity leave killing people, but you know, we do what we have to.”
James grunted. He leaned closer to her with a grim look. “The cops, Tyler, and a few others have all told me the same thing. My calls made their point. The entire LA underworld now has an open bounty. They’re also apparently doing rotating patrols around our home to watch for anyone suspicious for the next few months.”
“That explains all the fancy cars and cops that have been driving by for the last couple of days.” Shay snorted. “I don’t know how I feel about gangsters protecting us, but if the gangsters and cops are working together on something, that’s probably a good thing.”
“Open bounty?” Alison asked. “What’s that, exactly?”
James flicked his wrist toward the baby. “Basically, anyone who even talks about harming our son becomes the target of an automatic hit by most of the major underworld groups. They’re treating the whole thing as self-preservation since they’re afraid we’ll destroy them if something happens to the boy.”
Shay smiled sweetly. “Well, we would. I will fill the Pacific Ocean with their blood.”
James grunted his agreement. Alison offered her own nod.
“Besides, the guy who hired that idiot at the birthing center turned up dead,” James continued. “Several other people have already fled town, including a couple of them who were just joking, at least according to Tyler.”
“The entire underworld is terrified because of a baby,” Shay marveled.
Road Trip: BBQ Delivered with Attitude (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 20) Page 17
