She chuckled. “I think I’ll manage. If it’s got to do with money I’m pretty hip.” Her attention went to the agreement. Molly chewed on the end of the pen as she flipped pages back and forth.
I didn’t say a word.
My cell phone buzzed against my hip. I snatched it up, giving Molly a quick look. She hadn’t turned away from studying the papers.
The text message leaped out at me in blocky letters.
It was from Bran.
WHERE R U?
I chuckled. He’d easily forsworn basic English for the textspeak.
My fingers bounced across the tiny keyboard. I hadn’t gotten all the bells and whistles of this fancy model figured out. It was easier to mangle simple sentences than compose odes like other people could.
I FINE. WORKIN
I heard Shakespeare spinning in his grave like a wind turbine in my mind.
The response shot back a minute later. Molly ignored me, her pen zipping across the pages as she initialed some sections and boldly stroked through others.
MISS U. BED COLD. COME BCK SOON. LUV U
The lump in my throat could have throttled T. rex. I’d become a pretty good liar over the years due to my profession but this wasn’t trying to trick some guy into telling me about his mistress or digging at some bar floozy to see how often a client came in and drank away his paycheck before going home.
This was the man I loved.
Each letter singed my fingertips as if I were pounding on red-hot iron. I needed to get this done and done quickly.
BE BACK ASAP. LUV U 2
The response shot back within seconds.
XOXOXO. I CALL LATER MAYBE WE MEET FOR LNCH?
I closed the tiny keyboard and felt even worse, if it were possible.
Molly scribbled something in the margin on one of the pages. “I’m changing this from quarterly to monthly. I don’t want to end up destitute ’cause David forgot to make a payment. Monthly I can at least budget for mistakes and hold it together until things are sorted out.” She looked over. “I’m telling you because I know he’s going to give a big sigh and say he wouldn’t forget.” Her thin lips twisted into a smile. “He forgets.”
The baby stirred in the portable crib. A low burble started, rising in volume.
I got up and waved Molly back to studying the forms. “I’ll get him.”
She eyed me for a second, sizing me up, before nodding. “That would be great, thanks. I’ll be done in a few minutes.” She returned to reading and marking up the paperwork.
I walked over to the dark purple crib and leaned in to see Liam. The blue-eyed boy grinned at me. He didn’t have much hair, the reddish fuzz on his head barely enough to cover the fair skin. Wrapped securely in a light blue blanket he cooed and gurgled at me, a little bundle of happiness.
“Aren’t you a sweetie?” I purred. He flicked his little tongue out with a look of surprise, as if he’d just discovered it.
I leaned in and picked him up carefully, supporting his neck and back as I’d been taught by Ruth.
I sighed, missing my old friend. She’d been a surrogate mother to me and dozens of other Felis kids, from changing our diapers to helping us on our first hunts. The wound of losing her was still raw.
Liam burbled at me. He blinked, trying to figure out who this stranger was.
I smiled back and took a deep whiff of baby powder, formula...
And something familiar.
Liam settled into the crook of my arm, smacking his lips in anticipation of a feeding. I drew in a deep breath before focusing all my senses on the baby in my arms.
I smelled Molly’s scent on him, fresh and powerful.
A secondary smell lay under, a blending of his parents. It wasn’t as reliable as DNA but for the Felis it was as important. I’d been able to identify a Felis’s lost child once through the scent of the boy’s fur, a combination of the two parents along with his own distinct trace.
I sniffed again, mentally eliminating Molly from the mix.
The father wasn’t Brayton. My short time in the office had provided enough for me to remember his scent. His sweat had thickened the air around us—imperceptible to anyone unless they had enhanced senses.
Like a Felis. Like me.
I tried to calm my racing heart. If Brayton was willing to take in someone else’s child as his own, who was I to interfere? The arrangement between the two adults was none of my business as long as there was nothing illegal going on.
There was something familiar about the smell, like a faint memory of a mother’s cooking in the kitchen. I wrinkled my nose and mentally flipped through my files, trying to identify the father.
My knees went weak for a second as my mind finished processing the odor and spit out the result.
Michael Hanover.
I was holding Bran’s half brother.
Chapter Three
I turned back to Molly, who was poring over the documents. Liam squirmed for a second before settling down, his tiny eyes closing as he figured out I wasn’t going to be feeding him.
“Liam...” I paused, trying to find the right phrasing. “Brayton is his father, right?”
She glared at me. “Of course.” The pen slammed down on the table as she strode toward me and plucked the baby out of my arms. “What sort of woman do you think I am?”
Liam let out a soft whimper at the abrupt movement. He scrunched his tiny face, considering whether to cry.
I held my breath.
He sighed and fell asleep again, curling into his mother’s touch.
I fumbled to find the right words, the brain freeze cutting out all coherent thought. There was no easy way to ask if she’d been screwing Bran’s father.
Even worse, I couldn’t prove anything without a paternity test. Last time I checked, Felis scent identification wasn’t legal in court.
“I apologize. It’s that I’ve found in some of these cases the supposed father demands a DNA test before paying up. I know Mr. Brayton’s passed on it up to this point but you may want to get one to avoid future complications.” I tried to sound as sympathetic as possible. “Believe me, I’ve seen men demand a test after paying years of support to try and get out of the commitment. The wife finds out and instead of the husband standing up to her he asks for a paternity test to buy time and, if it’s not his child, to duck out on any prearranged payments.” I shot her a wry smile. “You’d be surprised at how intense a woman’s emotions can get when she feels slighted.”
“I see where you’re coming from.” She turned her attention to the half-asleep baby in her arms. “But David’s accepted Liam as his son. That’s all that matters.”
I held up my hands. “No problem. I understand.” I picked up the documents and scanned them. “Good choices here.”
She’d upped the numbers, as I expected. Everyone likes to lowball on the first estimate on anything, including child support. It wasn’t a huge increase but enough to allow for cost of living and plain old life.
A smile replaced the frown. “I want to do what’s right for Liam.” She looked down at the sleeping baby. “David’s stepping up to support us and that’s all I wanted. Enough to start a new life out west and give us a chance to start over.”
“He’s a good man,” I said.
I wasn’t lying—it took a lot of guts to claim a child that wasn’t his. I wasn’t sure if Brayton was in the same situation as I was with Hanover blackmailing him, but regardless of the situation Brayton was stepping up to care for what wasn’t his.
Molly nodded. “Yes, he is.”