Chapter Seventeen
Buck
Rayne paced his living room, Vida laying in his arm, mesmerized by the ceiling as babies were known to be. Eve’s voice bit out in sharp tones from Cliff’s phone on the coffee table as they shouted at one another.
“You could have told me!” Eve said for the third time, at least. At some point in the argument, Cliff had found his way to the couch and next to me, leaning in so flush that he might as well have been in my lap. All the while, Rayne did a kindness and avoided commenting.
“I could have, but thanks to mummy dearest , I was under the impression I’d sound like a damn loon. How was I supposed to know you’ve been living like Buffy the Vampire Layer out here?” Rayne stopped his pacing to shake a finger at the phone like she could see him.
“Are vampires a thing?” Eve halted her rant, and Cliff glanced over at me.
I shrugged. “In some scope. Are there creatures that suck blood? Yes.”
“Yeah, but like the whole blehh, sexy vampire want to suck your blahhhd .” He made a strange accent, and I had to think about the context. Rayne had made me watch one of the movies with sexy vampires, and I recognized it.
“Oh, well… There’s not really a creature that can bite you and turn you into things. There are bites that can enslave you or claim you. But…yeah. Vampires aren’t really a thing like that.”
“There is that penanggalan thing from the Philippines, yeah?” Storm gestured ambivalently as he watched Rayne pace and complain. I had to admire his passion, but that was a thing for storms and fire. I liked my passion slow and fierce in understated ways. I liked Cliff’s benign curiosity and willingness to sit back and let Rayne hold the anger for him.
Cliff pulled his phone out and searched for six different spellings of peenanga, penguilin, penepenepangolin… Philippine vampire . His skin paled. “Please tell me these things aren’t real.”
Storm and I exchanged glances. “I can lie. Or I can tell you that there’s so few of them in this part of the world that the likelihood of meeting a sasquatch far outweighs that of a penanggalan.”
“People have run into Sasquatch, I’m pretty sure!” His whisper-shout made me chuckle.
“Unless you’re a pregnant woman or a child, you’re fine.” Storm huffed and eyed Rayne in his pacing once more, complaining to Eve about their mother not answering her phone again.
“Did she even tell you what she is?” Eve’s tones settled down as the conversation deescalated.
“Latent wolf or something. I dunno. She isn’t a witch or shifter and is pretty pissy about it.” Cliff sulked more into my side, and I wrapped an arm over his shoulders, relishing his growing comfort with me. In turn, he rested a hand on my knee.
Pecker milled about at his feet, tugging his shoelaces curiously. This is thing my hens can eat? No. Maybe now? No.
I eyed the bird and he eyed me back. Not scared.
I bared my teeth at him and earned a fearful cluck and scattering of feathers as he scrambled off.
Storm’s eyes followed Pecker aimlessly as he mouthed a silent thank-you .
Jacque burrowed in the couch cushions beside Cliff for a moment and came out eating something, a piece of cereal. Nobody saw fit to stop him. Butt treats.
Cliff glanced over, his face morphing into a grimace. “Uh…yeah. Butt treats, lil buddy.”
Rayne resumed yammering to Eve, and I tuned the conversation out in favor of stroking Cliff’s dark locks, taking pleasure in their softness.
Cliff made a noise of shock as Rayne slipped by and pushed Vida into his arms. “Support her head, don’t kiss her, and if she starts stinking, tell me.”
I didn’t move to take Vida from him immediately, or at all. His bewildered expression morphed into fear and slight curiosity as he adjusted his grip, cradling her in his thick arms. There, she looked so small, much more so than in Rayne’s thinner arms. Swallowed against his chest, she nestled happily, nosing about hopefully for a nipple for a few seconds before the search exhausted her. With a single huff of defeat, she drifted off, face morphing into that soft, full-featured cherubic state. The face I knew I’d do anything for.
Drawing my gaze away from Vida sleeping against my mate’s chest, I stared long and hard at his own face that had softened into gentle wonder. He rubbed a thumb over the smattering of dark curls over her head and smiled. With a soft whisper, he spoke to her, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Hey there. I’m you’re Uncle Cliff.”
She didn’t respond to his whisper, but I got the feeling she wasn’t supposed to. His words were more for himself than her.
He slipped a finger into her palm, letting the tiny digits curl around his larger one, holding on as if he was the only thing keeping her from floating away. “How the hell are you so cute?”
“I think it’s an evolutionary thing to make you want to care for them.” I reached a hand over to stroke her soft scalp. Her face turned and mouth opened, following the warmth of my hand.
Rayne, eyes cutting over, paced off with the phone and returned less than a minute later with a bottle, thrusting it into Cliff’s hands. “Here, dudeboob juice,” he mouthed at Cliff where Eve couldn’t hear.
Cliff eyed the bottle as he fumbled it in his free hand and hesitantly offered the nipple of it to her.
“Want a hand?” I nudged him to lift his elbow and he nodded, adjusting her head up, tucking her in. “Now trace her lip with it, draw a smiley face—there we go.”
Vida opened her mouth and shook her head, gawping at the air until Cliff slid the bottle in and she latched, sucking with huffing breaths as she tied in, barely moving when Rayne circled back with a rag to keep Vida from spilling on him or spitting up. She was usually a neat eater, but babies were unpredictable.
“Whoa. She’s really tying in on this. Taste good?” He laughed and Storm chimed in, making a so-so gesture with his hand.
“Eh. I imagine it tastes better to her.” Storm laughed, and Cliff only pursed his lips for a second with displeasure and left the commentary to himself.
By the time I realized it, Rayne had hung up the phone and flopped onto Storm’s lap, leaning back with a groan. “I don’t know what to make of this.”
“We suspected you were demi, so one of your parents at least had to be a latent.” Storm patted Rayne’s back and Cliff kept his attention on Vida, delighting as she drained the bottle with little snuffles.
“Yeah, but like…Mom could have said something. Hell, nobody in our house made being gay feel all that welcome, Storm. Dad was seriously judgy.” Rayne huffed. “‘Be more manly, Rayne. Play some sports, Rayne. Be more like Cliff, Rayne. People are going to think you’re gay, Rayne.’ I have news for you! I was gay!”
“Still are,” Storm added helpfully.
“Damn straight—gay. Whatever.” Rayne waved his hand dismissively.
“I don’t think the sports or manliness had anything to do with the gay, dude.” Cliff glanced up from feeding Vida and snorted.
“Yeah, but like, you always had girlfriends in high school.” Rayne snorted.
“Yeah…I wasn’t dating any of them. I just— They kinda followed me around a bit and I didn’t dissuade them but like…I tried, just never could get interested.” Cliff distracted himself with Vida as she nursed the dredges of the bottle into the nipple with alarming speed. He tugged it and she fought with impressive suction and a noise of protest. “Wow…”
Storm eyed Vida. “As thirsty for life as her namesake. I do wonder if you’re related to Vidalia.”
“I also wonder if they shared blood, but we all can agree their blood calls to the land here.” I squeezed over Cliff’s arm, testing his boundaries. He accepted my touch more readily, cheeks tinged with flush, but no words rebutting my advances.
“I believe a great-grandparent. He’s three generations off if I’m right about how his blood feels.” Storm patted Rayne on the back with a solid percussive sound.
“There’s those DNA tests,” Cliff offered, surprising me that he was keeping up with the conversation and not lost in babyland. At any rate, his hormones were flush and rising, omega instincts taking over.
“I think shifters have their own for certain reasons,” I said, earning a look of surprise from both Cliff and Rayne.
“Put that on the agenda, th—would I still have DNA since I—” Rayne’s tones went low, voice cracking.
“Died?” I added.
Storm shot me a dirty look, and Cliff stiffened. “You actually died? That wasn’t a figure of speech?”
I was certain I’d said something about it, but the mood dropped when Rayne nodded. “I didn’t—I survived, but I don’t think this is the same body, not 100 percent anyway.” Rayne touched his chest and stared at his hand before letting his form shift a little, letting scales then fur and flesh crawl over his hand as if to demonstrate his malleable form.
“Do I have to die to be able to do that?” Cliff gestured toward Rayne as he tucked his hand away and shrugged.
“No.” Storm’s words came out clipped and firm. “It sped things along in a way we didn’t want. It made him feel something I prayed he’d never have to feel and put implications in his head that no man should ever hold.”
“Like what?” Cliff tightened his grip on Vida and stared at Rayne. His lost eyes went hard as he shook his head.
“Don’t find out.” Rayne stood and waved us off as he excused himself and walked into the kitchen and out the back door.
“He wonders if he’s the real Rayne or a creation or a figment.” Storm’s eyes drifted toward Vida and locked on. “Vida keeps him anchored though. Gods do not make children of their own. They need flesh and blood entuned to them.”
“So is his human side gone-gone, like… He’s just the god part?” Cliff stiffened against me.
Storm frowned and shrugged. “I don’t know the difference. River might know, as Brook has been with him much longer. It’s really not my place to speculate though. I have a lot of faith in our mother and what we are. Buck? You’re always quiet about it. Do you know?”
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air I didn’t need. I enjoyed forming myself a fully functional body though. Needing the air seemed right. Cliff turned his head toward me, eyes wide as he waited.
“I’ve told you I knew you when you were first but a cloud, yes?” I reached over to brush my fingertips over Vida’s gentle curls. She shied away from the touch with a strained sound before searching for the bottle once more.
“You’ve said so.” Storm glanced toward the door where Rayne had gone.
“Gods cannot… We can die, but not fully. We can wipe ourselves and reform, when things get too painful. We kill who we are, not what we are. Thunder didn’t only occupy these lands when you were formed. It’s why Grim hates you so badly.” I pursed my lips and drew my hand back, creating a little space between me, Vida, and Cliff.
Storm frowned; brows knit tightly. “You think I was Hurakan.”
“I know you were Hurakan. Just like I know Rayne is an old soul, the same one lost. I didn’t know the girl well, but it’s the same soul I felt back then. And keep this to yourself, Cliff, please. It’s one thing to tease Rayne, but this is one of the deeper burdens of being a god.” I caught Cliff’s eye, and he nodded, a tinge of guilt masking his features. “So even if his body perished, and he’s nothing but spirit inhabiting element to allow his shift, he’s still Rayne. He’s himself. And deeper still, he’s many others that never found you, and at least one that did, Storm.”
Storm shook his head and stared at the floor; his expression terse. “So, I’m a bloodletter, too?”
“No. You shed that power. You shed the worship and lore. You are a new god but an old one. I’m sure there’s a version of me that came before, and a version of you, too, Cliff.” I gave him a meaningful stare. I hoped having this discussion preemptively made Cliff more resilient to the life ahead of him. Emotionally, he’d need to prepare for something that Rayne never had time to.
Storm shook his head and scraped his fingers over his head, his hair freshly braided from the night before at the full moon. He allowed his people to care for him in ways I never had, ways that made them feel better, benefiting him little in the grand scheme of things. I’d have to learn from him.
“Now I’m as upset as Rayne,” Storm huffed.
I offered him a shrug, hands turned up. “My theory is that we shouldn’t think about it too much. It only brings unhappiness. Besides, Rayne’s still the same flesh he started with, just like a shifter is the same flesh as man and beast. Same creature, one is man shaped, one is beast.”
“Right. Yeah.” Storm ran a hand down his chest. “It does explain why Grim hates me. I must be painful to be around. Gods regard me as too soft and to him, I must be a mockery of Hurakan.”
I stared at him for a long time before I spoke carefully. “There’s a difference between the death Rayne suffered and the death of Hurakan. Rayne still remembers, still bears the marks of his soul and the pain of his living life. You, Storm? You shed all that you’d gained. The good with the bad. That’s a true death.”
Cliff pursed his lips and adjusted Vida in his arms as she settled into a gentle snooze, snoring in a way that only babies could make cute. “Where’s Rayne? And someone take my niece here because I’m either going to hug him or kick his ass. Either is likely and if anyone tries to stop me, they’ll get a shoe up their a-s-s too.”
“Chicken run.” Storm stared at Cliff, blinking sharply a few times before taking Vida from him in a swift gesture. She barely stirred until she nuzzled into his chest with a soft coo. With his face a sharp relief of determination, Cliff reached over to pat my knee.
“Good. I’ll fix this shit right now.” He dusted his hands off, straightened his shirt, which I didn’t tell him had a streak of baby spit down the front. Which was made all the more awkward by the fact that it was his brother’s milk.
“Should I be concerned?” Storm watched Cliff march out.
“I don’t think so. I trust him.” I caught the corner of my mouth tugging at my face, a smile.