Kyn 3: Feral

A Blade Publishing Publication

www.bladepublishing.org

Feral

ISBN 978-1-897560-14-3

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Feral Copyright © 2009 Mina Carter

Edited by Shonna Brannon

Cover art by Heidi Hutchinson

Feral is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in print or electronically without written permission, except in the case of using quotes already embodied in reviews.

There was a baby on his doorstep.

What Kyn warrior Feral knew about babies would have fit on the back of a postage stamp with room to spare, but even he was sure doorsteps weren't their natural habitat. Which begged the question, why was there one on his, and where were the people who were supposed to be looking after it?

“Well hello little... actually, what the hell are you?” he murmured, unable to work out what sex the baby was from the non gender specific yellow blanket. It was the sort of colour he knew women had a multitude of names for and God help a guy if he got it wrong.

“So how did you get out here?” He squatted down to pick it up. It took three attempts.

His large hands just didn’t seem to be the right shape to pick up something so tiny. He lifted the squirming bundle carefully and glanced up and down the corridor, trying to catch a glimpse of a loiterer waiting to see if the baby was picked up.

Nothing, zip, nada. Not surprising. Even if someone had been lurking in the shadows then, the near six and a half feet of solid, pseudo-tattooed, bare-chested Kyn male who opened the door would have scared them off for sure.

Then the smell hit him.

Pungent and forceful. It stripped several layers off the inside of his nose with an ease paint stripper would have admired. He recoiled and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He had never smelled anything so god awful in his life!

“Jee...zuz Christ, are you supposed to smell that bad?” He looked at the bundle in surprise, settling it into the crook of his arm. He didn't really want it so close, not smelling as it did. But there wasn't anyone else around, and the big scary Kyn warrior he might be, he couldn't leave it alone on the floor. Anything could happen to it. It could get cold or wild dogs could get it or something. Although the smell might have warned even the latter off.

“Ok, let’s see who you are then,” He reached out to move the edge of the blanket, which had fallen over the baby's face, his fingers gentle as he pulled it free. He froze in surprise as his eyes locked on the baby's hair.

It was bright pink.

Which meant two things. One, the baby was male and two, even worse, it was a Pixie.

They were the only species Feral knew of with weird hair colours. Of course he could be way off track here but he seriously doubted anyone had taken a bleach bottle to a baby's head to get that sort of colour.

“You just
had
to be a Pixie, didn't you?” He glared up and down the corridor again.

Still no one. He sighed heavily, no point standing out here on the doorstep like a spare prick at an orgy. A chill ran up the corridor and he shivered. Besides, it was cold out here and babies needed to be kept warm, didn't they?

He stepped back into his apartment, hooked a bare foot around the door and kicked it shut before wandering into the main room. He came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the room and frowned.
Ok, what the hell did he do now?

It was one of his rare nights off so he wasn't dressed for company. A pair of ripped, faded jeans hung off his hips and his feet were bare. Alone as he was, he hadn’t bothered with a shirt, the dark marks across one side of his body and up his neck that marked him as a Kyn warrior clearly visible. Added to the dress problem he’d already had a couple of beers, so he couldn’t drive. Which left him with a problem. A small, baby-shaped one that smelled.

He looked down, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as the baby opened its eyes and blinked at him. It's wide, dark eyes were peacock blue. A colour which seemed odd next to the bright colour of its... his, Feral corrected himself... which seemed odd next to the bright colour of
his
hair.

“I don't suppose you've any suggestions on what we should do, eh little man?” he asked, the low rumble of his voice the only sound in the large living room, speaking as much to reassure himself he wasn't mad as to verbalise his thoughts. After all, the baby couldn’t answer him, could it?

The baby just looked back and smiled. The toothless, gummy smile of the very young.

Feral had to admit, even for a Pixie, it was cute. The sort of cute that women went gaga over.

It was also more placid than he'd been led to believe babies were. But even as he thought it, the baby's face started to crumple. A slow motion movement which had the big Kyn Warrior riveted in fascinated horror.

“WwwwwwwuuuuaaahhhHHHHHHHHHH!”

The cry started off low, like an old fashioned air raid warning. Feral had only ever heard them in films, but now he had an appreciation of what it must have been like in London during the blitz as the noise developed into a full bodied wail. It seemed impossible someone so small could make so much noise. But it was and it was carrying on doing it, threatening to pierce Feral's ear drums with the sheer volume.

“Shhshhhshh, it's fine. Everything's fine!” Feral jiggled the baby a little, trying to calm it down. A movement which only released fresh waves of the foul stench emanating from the diaper. It wasn't fine. It was so far
from
fine it beggared belief. He must really have pissed the fates off at some point for them to dump a baby on him, a Pixie baby no less, when his dislike... no, his
hatred
of Pixies was well known.
Perhaps he kicked kittens or something
in a former life?

Out of ideas he strode across the room to the breakfast counter. The apartments in his block were open plan living with kitchen and diner leading into the main living space.

Bathrooms and bedrooms separated off by the narrow excuse for an entrance hall.

He located his cell phone behind a couple of empty beer bottles and flicked it open.

Vixen would know what to do. His partner of several years and a mother herself, she’d know what to do with a baby. If he was lucky, she might even offer to look after it for him.

Here's hoping
, he thought, hitting speed dial and lifting it to his ear.

“
Hi, you've reached Vixen's phone...”

“
Crap!” Feral swore as his patrol partner's voice mail cut in. He'd forgotten Vixen's mate, Kalen, had taken her out of town this weekend. A second 'honeymoon' since Vix had been eight months pregnant and the size of a house during their first.

“Buggar, buggar and shit!” he cursed, flicking the phone shut and tapping the edge of it against his teeth. Then he realised the terrible wail had stopped and he looked down in surprise. Peacock blue eyes were fixed on his phone.

“Oh, you like this, huh?” he smiled and waggled the phone. The baby watched it, tracking the movement. Feral frowned, he didn’t think they could do that. He remembered reading somewhere babies couldn't focus on stuff until they were like months old. He shrugged to himself; he must have heard it wrong because little man here was tracking the phone like a damn hawk!

Pudgy fists emerged from the blanket and made a grab for the sleek silver case, fastening around it and wrenching it from Feral's grasp. He chuckled, an expression which turned to horror the next instant.

“Ok, ok... oh no, not in the mouth! Not good, not food!” He exclaimed as his new phone was used as a teething ring, an expensive teething ring, gleefully being gummed and slobbered on by the Pixie baby.

“Give the phone back to Feral, there's a good little baby,” he coaxed and tried to get a finger between the baby's mouth and the phone. But it had formed an unbreakable seal and he couldn't even get his little finger in. He hissed in frustration, looking at the baby in confusion as he tried several different angles to try and get the phone back. But it was no good. His hands were too big for this, more used to battling rogue vampires than dealing with wee babies.

Then, he managed it, sliding his finger down the side and popping the phone free. He grimaced as his finger and the phone came away covered in baby slobber, holding the phone up in triumph. He wasn't prepared for what happened next. A furious squeal tore through Feral, attacking his ear drums as little fists struggled and pummelled the air.

“WWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

Feral stuffed the phone back in the baby's mouth, silencing the squeal as quick as it had started. Great, so what did he do now? He had no clue how to take care of a baby, and he had no time to learn. He needed to do something about the smell pretty soon. It was getting worse.

Diapers, he knew he needed diapers. But what sort, and where did you get them from?

Disposable ones would be fine, he wasn't all earth-momma like the woman two units down.

He often saw her outside, pinning out row upon row of white diapers.

Realisation hit him at light speed. Woman with children! Even better, she had Pixie blood. Glamour was easy for a Kyn as old as Feral to see through. Which meant he wouldn't have to explain why the baby was sporting what looked like a bad dye job.

Grinning, he did an about face and headed back into the corridor. Not bothering with anything more than sliding his feet into a pair of heavy boots he trudged out the door in search of salvation.

The tub of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer was calling Tessa's name. Chocolate Fudge Brownie, her favourite comfort food and after the crap day at work she had, had necessitated a stop on the way home. Fresh from the shower and swaddled in one of her sister's huge towelling robes she padded back through into the kitchen to collect the tub and a spoon. She didn't bother with a bowl, just pulled the lid off and dug the spoon in right there in front of the freezer.

“Hmmmmm,” she moaned in pleasure as the first taste of the chocolaty, gooey treat hit her tongue. The stresses of the day melted away, aided by the long hot shower and the taste of the ice cream, a little taste of her childhood. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the freezer.

Today had been the day from hell. Working in a busy logistics office meant everything had been put on hold when the trunk shipments had been late, throwing the whole day into disarray which meant Tessa didn't get to leave until late. Considering she had been on duty since 6am, it hadn't impressed her any.

Finally she had been able to escape, a long weekend ahead of her. But even then she hadn't been finished. No, she agreed to house sit for her older sister Lisa, who was off tripping the light fantastic in Vegas with her hubby and the twins. So it had been a mad dash home to throw whatever she needed into a weekend bag, then a breakneck drive over here to catch Lisa before she left and get the usual '
remember to feed the fish
' chat. Lisa was only a couple of years older than Tessa but anyone would think she was Methuselah the way she carried on at times.

Now though, all was calm. She had waved Lisa and James off, twins already asleep and packed up in the back of the car, a little over an hour ago. Just enough time to unwind over a glass of wine as she watched the evening news and then take a long hot shower. She just
loved
the shower here. A power shower, it had a setting that felt like needles bombarding her skin, thousands of tiny dull pinpricks which took her breath away and felt absolutely wonderful after the day she had. She stood there for a full five minutes under the spray before even reaching for the shower gel.