Chapter 11
Matt
Deejay’s kiss distracts me and keeps causing me to get excited every time I think about it on the drive. I realize that he didn’t mean anything by it, but trying to quash a crush on that beautiful, scary man is difficult enough without getting hit with an on-the-lips kiss like that.
They were soft. Really nice. Even though it barely lasted a fraction of a second, it feels like I can still taste them.
I know I’m an idiot, and that it’s safer for Cary if I keep my attraction to myself. I don’t want to make any kind of mistake that will cause Cary to lose the first secure home he’s ever had. That includes letting my attraction to Deejay distract me.
I glance in the rear-view mirror to Cary who plays cars in his child safety seat with Jasper in his. I don’t want to disappoint him, so I make a valiant effort to dismiss Deejay from my mind for now. In the privacy of my room, I can take my thoughts out and indulge in fantasy if I want, but here and now, I need to concentrate on getting to the mall safely. I have precious cargo.
Beside me, Robert seems to be doing better than before, but I noticed something while he was talking to Cary. “Do you prefer Robert or Robbie?”
I ask, startling him. He’s jumpy and I get it. I’ve seen that look before. I’ve been treated this way before. Big ugly guys like me who look intimidating get this kind of reaction from people who’ve been abused by our type.
“Uh, whichever is fine,”
he squeaks nervously.
“No. If you have a preference, I’d rather use what you like,”
I refuse because I know he’s capitulating his own will to avoid whatever abuse he thinks of when he sees me.
“Oh, um. Robbie. I like Robbie.”
“Robbie it is,”
I determine.
The conversation falters again. He’s not comfortable talking to me and I’m not good at making small talk, which means the kiss comes to mind again despite my best efforts.
Somehow, I manage to get us to the mall without disaster. The Galleria Mall is large, but on a Wednesday evening, not terribly crowded. I hold Cary’s hand while Robbie takes Jasper’s. “Food first, let's feed everyone, then we can walk around the mall. If you see a store you want to go in, just say so. We’re shopping for you and I know I make you uncomfortable, but it would be a wasted trip if you’re too nervous to go into stores,”
I tell Robbie, using the same tone I use for Cary when he’s scared.
“Ok,”
he murmurs barely audible over the noise of the food court.
I look down at the boys. “You can eat anything you want as long as you choose one vegetable besides potatoes, got it?”
Jasper smiles brightly up at me, shining bright in his happiness. “I want teriyaki chicken. It comes with broccoli.”
“Me too!”
Cary exclaims. “I like trees!”
“Actually, that does sound good,”
I smile down at them before looking at Robbie who also has a smile. “What do you think, Robbie?”
He doesn’t look up, but he nods at Jasper and Cary. “I agree. I think that sounds good.”
With that decided, we head over to the Asian place in the food court. We decide to get two large size meals which I take back to a table they’ve chosen and split the meal between us. Robbie eats about as much as the other two, but since I’m a big guy with a big appetite, I don’t mind. I’m hungry enough to polish off whatever they don’t eat.
What I do mind are some of the creepy glances that other diners shoot our way. Especially the ones focused on Jasper and Cary. Most people don’t give us a second look, but there’s two men and one woman who give the kids way too much attention. And they have that non-human aura too.
It takes a few minutes of carefully watching before it hits me what’s happening. One of the men, a shorter man with a stout figure and a prominent gut, wipes his mouth with a napkin and I catch a glimpse of a forked tongue. His aura hangs low and heavy, like he abuses it. I know now what species he is, and exactly what course he chose for his life. This man watching Jasper is a Naga, a snake-like species, though this one judiciously employs glamour to look human. While most Naga live relatively benign lives, one particular subset of the species prefers to satiate their carnal appetites with children. They’re killed when they’re discovered, but the only way to prove a Naga has that appetite is after some kid’s already been victimized. I’m not even going to chance it; I can tell by his aura that someone should end him.
I put my arm on the back of Jasper’s chair, drawing the Naga’s eyes to mine. I glare at him and puff my chest out. “Don’t even think about it,”
I rumble at him loud enough to be heard, but low enough not to draw too much attention.
The Naga’s eyes go wide for a second before his tongue flicks out. I bang my hand on the table, keeping eye contact. “Do you want to die?”
My posturing apparently works because the Naga quickly gets up and leaves, abandoning his leftovers, which I’m certain he’s never done in his life based on that rotund figure.
As soon as he leaves, I lock my glare on the other two I noticed staring at my kids. “Anyone else?”
I rumble, again just loud enough for superhuman hearing to pick up.
The female quickly leaves, walking away with a distinctive pattern that lets me know she is a type of Fae, it’s sort of a flitting walk indicating she has wings hidden by her glamor. Fae will sometimes kidnap children to their dimension for a variety of reasons; sometimes it’s just as simple as wanting a child to raise, sometimes it’s a more nefarious reason.
The last man stares at me, arching a brow. He has sun-bleached blond hair and sparkling blue eyes the color of the ocean. He sits at a table about four yards away, and I can tell by his long, lean legs that he’s at least as tall as Deejay. He looks strong, but with the build of a runner, not really a physical match for me. Then he grins at Cary and looks back at me, revealing black pearl teeth as shadowy tentacles emerge from where they were hiding behind him.
Oh shit.
I’m brute enough to take on a lot of non-humans in a public space, but this guy’s a fucking Chaos Eater. He’d fuck with us to create chaos and he doesn’t care who wins or loses because it all feeds him. And on top of that, he’s strong. Stronger than me. Those extra limbs attached to his aura are called chaos arms. They feed him numinous energies. I can’t see what they’re feeding on, but I do know their purpose is to gather cast off psychic and magical energies to supply him with power. And those arms, while invisible to the human eye, can become tangible. The encyclopedia warns that the grip of the chaos arms of any kind of Chaos Eater is absolutely unbreakable unless you have the magic and strength of a god, and even then, the god would have to be a pretty major deity. Minor deities just don’t have the power to stop a Prime World Eater, which is the classification Chaos Eaters fall under.
“Call Deejay,”
I order Robbie quietly, pulling my phone out of my pocket to give him.
He doesn’t respond right away, which forces me to look at him, noticing that he’s cowering in his chair while Cary looks up at me wide-eyed, stroking his shoulder. “You scared him,”
Cary accuses me.
“Shit,”
I cuss, looking back at the Chaos Eater, who smiles widely at me, already enjoying the trouble his mere presence causes. His arms reach toward us, extending to catch the energy that our fear responses put off.
Fuck me.
I dial Deejay, and put the phone to my ear, scooting back in my chair in case I need to run.
“Matt?”
he asks, concerned.
“There’s a Chaos Eater here,”
I murmur quietly. “And he may be targeting us.”
“Repeat after me loud enough for him to hear, ‘Yes, please call Loretta’,” he says.
“Yes, please call Loretta,”
I repeat, watching the Chaos Eater’s reaction.
“Say, ‘The Beast’s one of your friends?’.”
I mimic his tonality like I’m surprised to hear this. I know exactly who Loretta and the Beast are because of the encyclopedia, and somehow speaking those names gets a quick reaction from the Chaos Eater. His shoulders droop and he salutes me with two fingers before weaving his way out of the food court and out of the mall.
“He left,”
I say, relieved.
“He left the mall?”
Deejay clarifies.
“Out the doors at least. I didn’t follow him,”
I respond.
Deejay breathes a sigh of relief. “Ok, you should be ok. I am going to call Loretta and she will send a couple of people to sweep the mall. Don’t be surprised if they follow you until you’re done. Loretta will likely tell her people to keep an eye on you.”
“That’s fine.”
Having the protection of the Houston Hub at my back will make me feel better. “I’ve already had to run off a Naga and a Fae.”
“It’s Jasper, isn’t it?” he sighs.
“Both,”
I reply vaguely because I don’t want the boys to know they’ve been targeted.
“Good job, Matt. Remember: don’t hit first, but always hit last.”
I can’t believe he’s saying that to me, but it makes me smile. “Got it.”
“Say it.”
“Don’t hit first, but always hit last,”
I repeat, glancing at Robbie, who goes white as a sheet, but I don’t fucking care at this point. His fear of me has got to stop especially when there are much more important things at stake. Like Cary and Jasper.
“Good. Keep my boys safe.”
“I will.”
I hang up the phone and look at Robbie, reigning in my frustration with him only enough not to yell. “I am a big, scary dude. I’m tall and I’m almost four hundred pounds of muscle. I get it. I’m big and scary. I’m also not a fucking threat to you. When we’re out with the littles, you’re going to protect them, not the other way around. It’s not Cary’s job to take care of you. We’re going to go get your shit now, and we’re going to make it as safe and fun for the boys as we can. And next time I get mean, you better fucking pay attention because just now, we could have lost everything that matters, and I need you on my side if that happens again.”
Jasper grabs onto my arm and hugs it tight. “I saw what you did,”
he says as I bring my free hand around to pat his head.
Robbie turns dark red, holding his breath for a long while before letting it out in a gust and nodding. “I’m sorry,”
he whimpers pathetically.
“Get yourself together. Do what you gotta do. Coping mechanisms or whatever. Then let’s go shopping.”
He takes a deep breath, and nods, scrunching up his eyes. For a few minutes I watch him breathe—we all do—and then it seems it works because he opens his eyes and nods at me. “I’m ready.”
His aura isn’t calm, it’s still radiating a significant amount of fear, but I don’t know what a baseline for Robbie is yet, so I decide to trust that he knows his limits.