"Enhanced precaution is something we use when we think there might be an increased threat from the pack—those men you knocked out," Wyatt explained. "Basically, no one goes anywhere alone."
"And for the love of God, everyone answer your phones when you get a call. If you don't, call back the moment you notice a missed call. That has come up way too often as of late," Riley said.
I watched Bran Jr. watch his father's mouth move. His little eyes bobbed up and down. It finally occurred to me that the baby had two fathers, and maybe I should have a question about that—except then I remembered, really, it was none of my business, and there were about a thousand perfectly plausible scenarios that would explain all that.
"And Kansas," Wyatt said, bringing my attention back to the conversation at hand. "Enhanced precaution measures also mean that you may not, under any circumstances, ignore how friggin' hot I am." He shot me dual finger guns, and I wasn't the only one who groaned.
Nana announced she was leaving shortly after that. She said she'd be back to chat with me some more, but I hoped she knew I wouldn't hold her to that promise.
After that, the others filed out of what I'd gathered was Wyatt's room. Wyatt instructed me to remain where I was on his bed and disappeared, returning minutes later with a tray in his hands. "You should know, you were invited to dinner with Phin and Nash, but I declined because…I thought—well, I declined. So, you were invited. But we're eating in here."
I wasn't sure if I should be touched or aggravated. Then I looked at what was on the tray he carried and decided to be neither. He had all of my favorite things and some not-so-favorites. Mostly, the vegetables could go. But there were Cheez-Its and sour straws, a chocolate pudding cup, string cheese, and an apple. There was something so juvenile about the food selection that made the entire gesture that much sweeter. "Okay." I grabbed a Cheez-It. "Wait, do you have anything for—"
Wyatt pulled a can of tuna out of his pocket and shook it. Somehow, that was enough to alert Mr. Boots, who jumped on the bed and purred loudly. Wyatt cracked the can open and set it on the black futon that sat in the corner of his room.
"How has the bar been?" I asked when Wyatt sat with me. I was so glad he wasn't the type of guy who was weird about eating in his bed.
Was that because he allowed a lot of things in his bed? I didn't want to think about that.
"I've stayed closed. I didn't want to leave in case you woke up."
That was nice. Really nice. So nice I had to remind myself I was only here because he felt bad about dragging me into his problems. "I'm sorry you had to do that."
"I'm not. You saved my ass, Kansas. Thank you for that."
I made a gesture like it had been nothing, but when I chomped into my apple slice, I had to fight my smile from spreading too wide. I ate a bit more in silence. Wyatt sat there the whole time, and with each second, it was as if I could see the miniature steam gauge of his patience pushing toward its limit.
"What is it?" I finally asked.
"I need to tell you something, and I'm not sure how to tell you."
This sounded serious. My mind spun, imagining thousands of scenarios.
He actually worked for my uncle.
He'd been lying about the wolf thing. And when he'd changed into one, that had been… really good special effects.
"You might be pregnant."
When I did hallucinate, I sometimes started by hearing things that weren't there. Of all the things to have my mind make up. I shoved a handful of sour straws into my mouth, hoping the sugar blast would jumpstart my sanity. "I'm sorry," I said around the gelatinous mound of half-desiccated sour straw in my mouth. "It sounded like you said you thought I could be pregnant."
He didn't laugh.
More importantly, he didn't correct me.
"I did say that. I saw you looking at the kids, wondering how they came about. They were carried to term by Phineas and Riley, though both men did not have bodies that should have been capable of it. Fast answer, it's a shifter thing. A rare shifter thing. And this is what I was trying to tell you earlier, about the powers. Riley can make people tell the truth, Phineas can heal most wounds, and you can suck the energy out of people's bodies and live on it."
We'd make a pretty terrible band but an awesome trio of people to have around at parties. "So 'cause we can all do things, I have to be pregnant?"
"No, but, when Branson and Nash…" He made a circle with one hand and mimed his finger plunging inside it. "It got them pregnant. And we've had sex. A few times. Unprotected."
Though this sounded important, it was so foreign a worry, I couldn't take him seriously. "If I am, what happens in nine months? I check my pants every time I toot?" That was a sentence I both never imagined I would say and wished that I had never said.
Wyatt looked like he was thinking about the same thing. "No. Both Riley and Phineas became shifters and birthed their babies through shifting."
That didn't sound like it made a lick of sense, but I went along with it. "Does that mean I'm going to be able to do what you do? Turn into a wolf?"
Mr. Boots hissed and ran under the bed. We probably wouldn't be able to get him out from under there until at least morning.
Wyatt shrugged. "It should."
He didn't sound particularly excited about that prospect. But why would he? It would mean he was linked to me for life. Or at least for however long our child kept us together. At least this time, I had the sense not to speak the sentence I never imagined I'd have cause to think out loud. "Okay. Let's get it over with. How do I become a wolf?"
"Both Phineas and Riley were scared into shifting. I could scare you," he suggested with an unsure edge.
What was he going to do? Wait around corners all evening? "I mean, sure, you could try—"
Wyatt lunged forward, shifting into a wolf quickly enough to land with his wolf's jaws wrapped around my neck. I panted, blinking up at the ceiling. His woodsy, clean scent surrounded me on both sides. I figured the smell came from his pillow, since right at that moment Wyatt smelled a little like a dog.
Something hot and wet slid across my neck, and I made a gargled chirping noise. The part of my brain that recognized a wild predatory animal had its jaws around my throat thought the part of me that recognized the being on top of me was still Wyatt and that was his tongue licking my throat was an idiot.
I was scared, yes. But I was also still just a human. "It didn't work."
What did that mean? That I wasn't pregnant, I thought. But we'd had so much sex, and like an idiot, I hadn't thought once about protection once the underwear had come off. If I could get pregnant, I would have been already. For sure.
But that was good.
Right?
"Yeah," Wyatt said, letting me know I'd spoken my question out loud. "It's good. Less danger this way."
Less danger of him losing his lifestyle. We could keep doing things as we'd been doing, operating in that gray area of two guys who often had sex with each other.
"More sex this way," I said, sliding the tray away. Wyatt watched me move like a cat would watch a mouse scurrying by.