Chapter 19

I'm notthe type of person who usually remembers my dreams, but this morning I wake up with my heart pounding and the taste of fear on my tongue, as the memory of my entire family getting into a taxi and driving away with The Bad Guy fades. It was just a dream, but watching Fox, Bellamy, and Edovard get abducted by some nebulous Big Bad woke me up hard.

It's still dark, and Fox is snoring softly beside me, so I roll into him and hug his body like it's my very own life-size body pillow. I heard those boyfriend pillows are excellent bed companions for some people. My boyfriend will just have to do, because we don't have room for another boyfriend-size thing in our bed.

"What's wrong?" Fox mumbles, pulling me half on top of him and holding me like the precious treasure I am.

Thinky-thinks aren't really on my agenda right now. I'd like to clear out the nightmare with more sleep and better dreams.

"Mmm," Fox mumbles. "Sex?"

I bounce with a giggle. He's not even really awake, but he's fully onboard with anything that ends in orgasms. Who even has that much energy before the sun comes up?

Fox relaxes again, falling back into deeper sleep, and I relax with him. I'm drifting when my brain takes the opportunity to remind me of what Bellamy looked like when we found him in Arktis, only this time he's not as alive as we found him, and I startle awake again.

Dammit.

C'mon, Brain. We need sleep more than we need to process trauma! We are not going to lose our family. Bellamy and Edovard are safe. Fox is right here. They're fine.

As I'm trying to calm down, my brain supplies the image of the fathers after their battle, superimposes those fading injuries onto my men, and I give up. My brain is not going to upset me with random fears; I won't let it.

I roll off Fox and get out of bed, pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and grabbing my phone. I think I might need a bit of retail therapy.

I head down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It's three-thirty in the morning, but if I'm going to make it through the day on three hours of sleep, it will be with copious amounts of the elixir of life flowing through my veins.

As soon as it's brewing, I open my email app, take a picture of the table in the breakfast nook, and send it to my miniature maker. Then I browse through the tiny chairs available on Etsy and pick a few that will make me happy to put on the wall in Bellamy's bathroom. He needs to know I think about him all the time, especially when he's alone, naked, and vulnerable.

Once I've ordered those, I get a cup of life, scroll to the soft side of Etsy, and go a little nuts ordering handmade things for my pupper. I'm not going to give them all to him at once, but I like having a stash of things in case I need an emergency blanket or stuffie or soft socks. Edovard might not know it yet, but I am going to shower him with soft, lovely things. Things that go on his bed, and hey, if that means there's less room on there for Gregory, so be it. I'm sure they'll find space for him somewhere.

I happen to know for certain that their basement is as dark and dank as that gnome. I bet he'd feel right at home down there if we got him one of those spike beds.

Oooh.

Search results reveal that if I want a spike bed for Gregory, I'll have to make it myself. I'm not the DIY-Husband. I'm the Food-Husband. I might not be able to make Fox his own tables (that's what I spend my money on), but I can make him food that is "good enough to eat" from dawn to dusk and every hour in between. He might not enjoy food—he eats with efficiency but not pleasure—but I've got his nutrition in hand. Thankfully we have a Bellamy who's eventually going to make an excellent Chore-Husband. Hopefully when he becomes the Chore-Husband he brings with him a DIY-Husband to round us out.

What's Fox? I'm glad you asked. He's the Spoils-Us-With-Expensive-Things-Husband, the Fashion-Husband if you will, and we are not trading him for any of the other types of hubbies.

Refilling my cup and sighing happily at the overly sweet concoction of expensive brew, I take myself to the sofa in the living room, weaving through the random tables everywhere. I settle down, looking through random occult items in case I see something that would fit with Santanos's angelic Avatar of Evil aesthetic, and I've just gotten comfortable when there's a light knock on the door followed by the church bell sounds of the gargoyles outside.

The clock on my phone says it's fuck-no o'clock, and there's no way that anyone knocking on the door at this hour is a good person. Of course, my heart starts beating out of my chest as my brain reminds me of all the drama it's put me through tonight, so I'm on my feet, spilling my coffee and dashing to the front door in seconds.

I really need to calm down.

I swing the door open and stop dead at the strangers standing on my stoop. I'm not sure how many adorable blondes one person should have in their lives, but if this one is here for a reason and hasn't mistakenly knocked on my door at four in the morning, Fox and Bellamy are in surplus. He's really fucking cute in a Rainbow Brite t-shirt and leather riding pants. He waves at me with a… uh… I don't know what the right word is. Is it a residual limb? It's not a whole arm, but it looks underdeveloped like he was born missing the rest of the arm.

Next to him is a less cute, more sexy guy wearing a net club shirt and miniskirt. His lips are painted black and there's glitter all over his face.

Behind them is a giant that looks like he eats the sausage made with the intestines of his enemies and drinks his breakfast whiskey from the skulls of those same enemies. He puts a hand on the blond's shoulder, staring at me like I'm a threat.

I lift my phone, and snap a picture of the trio.

"Hi! The gargoyles said you were awake, otherwise we would have waited until a less dark hour. I'm Sterling. This is Hennessey, my bestie, and this is my husband, Jethro." The blond waves his hand at the others, but I barely notice.

My eyes lock onto the rock on his finger. Dammit. It's as big as mine should have been. Now I'm just mad that someone stole my ring. I should be able to show off my hand to Sterling. We should be able to compare rings. We should be bonding over the size of our men's love for us, but nooo. Someone had to steal my ring. Assholes.

Wait.

Did he say Jethro?

I narrow my eyes up at the asshole behind the cutie, wondering if Sterling is possibly wearing the ring that should be on my finger.

Jethro stares back, completely unaffected by the accusation in my eyes.

He is somewhere in the vicinity of three times my size. I wouldn't be intimidated by me if I was him either.

"Um." Sterling's uncertainty reminds me that they probably don't know I'm mute. "Did we get the wrong address? Jethro said the gargoyles said this is where Bellamy lives."

I shake my head at Jethro and point, giving him my most I-will-avenge-my-ring expression.

"Oh! Do you know my husband?"

"I've never met him," Jethro interjects quickly.

I roll my eyes, grab Sterling's wrist and pull him into my house, putting myself between him and Jethro.

To my surprise, Hennessey is the one who takes umbrage with my kidnapping of the adorable Sterling. His fist comes flying and bounces right off my ward because I didn't attack him and I certainly don't mean any harm to Sterling. I was honestly hoping that Jethro would react. Just a little revenge for stealing my ring. I planned to invite him in afterward.

"What the fuck?" Hennessey howls, backing into Jethro, who sets him aside.

Jethro peers at me with a frown. "You a Harbinger or a councilor? You're not one of the Avatars, but that ward was set by the council."

I roll my eyes, annoyed, and step back, jerking my hand to tell them to come in. I catch Hennessey"s eye and press my hand to my heart, bowing in apology. Hennessey gives me a sour look as he passes but otherwise doesn't say anything.

The crash of a table into another table and a yelped expletive don't even phase me as I look out front to the gargoyles and blow them kisses. I get a response in church bell speak, assume it's declarations of reciprocal love, and go inside, locking the door behind me.

Moments later, Fox leaps onto the landing at the bottom of the stairs, naked as he was when I slipped out of bed and wielding his fancy sword, the one that's as big as he is and drips black smoke as a cast off the magic that it draws from him but can't use. It's overkill, honestly, since he knows that anyone who means us harm can't cross his wards. Or maybe it's not overkill because he needs to face anyone who does mean us harm and gets past our wards with his most deadly best.

"What the fuck?" Bellamy demands, stomping down the stairs with both a gun and a sword.

Sprawled on the floor with two overturned tables, Sterling smiles up at the two men. "This is the best morning ever even if we had to drive all night to get here and I'm still marinating in population pudding."

Population pudding? What does that even mean?

"Oh no," Bellamy suddenly gasps, eyes shooting to Sterling. He immediately rounds on me. "You let them inside the house?" He immediately turns back to the trio and points to Hennessey as Jethro picks Sterling up. "Do not touch anything. If I find so much as a button missing on any of our shirts I will hunt you down, strip you naked, and leave you tied up and hanging from a bridge."

That's the most evocative threat I've ever heard out of Bellamy's mouth. I might be a little proud of that.

Fox's sword disappears into the ether and he turns, trotting up the stairs to get dressed. Bellamy, however, does not put his weapons away.

Hennessey smiles widely at my son. "Threatening me with a good time again, Bella? You know you can tie me up any time you like." Hennessey uses the same accent as Bellamy; it's beautiful and mocking, but he pulls it off like a Southern native.

Bellamy exaggerates a gag, pointing his gun at Hennessey and raising his sword toward Jethro. "Who are you?"

"Jethro Jones. I lead the werewolves that serve the Avatar of Good. For some reason the magic that invested me with leadership requires me to be here, and my husband wanted to visit his cousin."

Excitement bubbles up inside me and if I could shout, I would be exclaiming "Fuck yeah!" because: werewolves!

I want to see them shift so much.

I start toward them because I need their phone numbers right now, but Bellamy swings out his arm to bar the way. He shakes his head at me before returning to his interrogation. "You took my family's name?"

Sterling bats big blue eyes up at Jethro, answering Bellamy's question. "He didn't have to. We had the same last name before we got married."

Bellamy's extremely freckled face pales. "Did you at least check to make sure you weren't related?"

Sterling gives him an absolutely befuddled look. "Why would that matter?"

Oh. My. God.

Bellamy makes a noise that is one part frustration and two parts despair. He looks Jethro dead in the eye. "You realize that he's not right in the head, right? He abducts people, and they don't even realize it until they try to go home. Did you willingly marry him? Do you need someone to help you get home?"

Sterling squawks in protest, but Jethro pats his butt and lets his hand linger there. He meets Bellamy's gaze and replies. "He's my fated mate. I already turned him."

Bellamy finally lowers his sword, though he keeps the gun trained on Hennessey. I'm beginning to think that maybe he doesn't trust Sterling's best friend. "So, you're just as fucked up as he is, then," he decides as Fox makes a reappearance.

Sterling stares adoringly up at Jethro. "He's absolutely perfect for me."

"Coffee," Fox tells me as he moves to put the tables back in place exactly where he wants them. He points to the kitchen table. "Sit."

I move to get started on coffee, and since everyone's up and we're not going to get back to sleep today, I also start thinking about breakfast. I'm sure these guys are hungry considering they apparently drove all night.

Behind me as I start filling up the coffee maker with filtered water, I hear Sterling ask, "Oh hey, where's Re?"

And Hennessey replies, "He needed a time out."

I'm not sure if I want to know what that means. Ok, that's a lie. I really, really do.