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Eleven of them this time. One of these days, I'll get a full group. I couldn't decide if this was the fFamilies screwing with me, or just life's usual mischief. I open the door where they'd been told to wait for me.

"This is the locker room." I indicated the rows upon rows of lockers. "You'll get one assigned to you before the end of the day. On the left is the workout equipment with a boxing ring, on the right is the close quarter training area. You'll-"

"What are those doing here?"

And this was why I handled the orientation for my Society employees. Although this was the first time I'd gotten such derision in the 'those'. In every other group the worse I'd gotten was 'why are there women here?' I looked at the otter. Chouteau were definitely a class apart.

"They're changing. It's what you do in a locker room." I raised my sarcasm level a bit. He was going to cause this group to be trouble if I let him get away with it.

"Are you telling me you have women working for you?" The otter's tone frosted. I'd been told his name, Philip, the head of HR had insisted I know everyone in my group by name, but I've been traveling and meeting people for the last five months. My brain couldn't hold any more names. The otter straightened, gave himself an imperious bearing. "Not only do we have to be around atheists, but women?"

Three of the men nodded their agreement. The others looked at them like they were aliens, and one rolled his eyes. The only one who looked to be in his thirties instead of early twenties and stood like he knew how to fight.

"I do." I fixed my gaze on the otter. "With this exception of you and your ilk, I hire qualified people regardless of gender. And you'd better get used to it, because the distribution of the lockers if arranged so the men and women are mixed. If you're not comfortable getting naked with women around, get over yourself. You're not that special."

The otter's fur bristled. "I am not special? I am Francis Chauteau, son of--"

"I don't give a fuck. That's who your father is as far as I'm concerned. And you're going to want to be careful how you treat these women, because if you piss them off, they're going to be happy to kick your ass. Most of them come from the military with active service in an actual war."

"And you're going to want to be careful how you talk to your boss," Tom said from behind the group on cue.

The group turned, and the badger smiled at them.

"And who are you?"

"Thomas Marrows, at your service."

"So you're not a Mercier?" the otter asked.

"Nope." Tom's smile broadened. He knew what was coming. As did I. Every group had one.

"Then go away. This doesn't concern you."

"Oh buddy, am I going to have fun with you," Tom said.

"You really should be careful how you talk to the people in this company Chouteau."

The otter rolled his eyes. "Please, he'll do his job, and if he knows what's good for him, he will stay out of my way."

"Oh yeah. That one's mine, Tom said You can hand the others around, but I get him."

"You will get--" the otter began

"Chouteau, meet you very own combat instructor," I cut him off.

Tom beamed.

"Com--combat?" the otter asked.

Only the older man, a monkey of some sort, the capybara and rabbit weren't surprised by that news. Everyone else was staring at me, more than a little worry in their eyes. Good. Time to burst another bubble.

"I know the lot of you are here to spy on me. To try to discover what I'm up to. None of your families trusts me, especially not after I returned the secrets the Rasia had accumulated." I spoke without concern of who else might overhear. By now everyone knew a section of my employees came with political strings. So long as I didn't outright talk about magic, they'd wave the weird stuff aside.

The saint-bernard timidly raised his hand, but the capybara took it down with a shake of the head.

"Don't look surprise. I'm not the idiot they told you I am. But for you to stay here and pry into my business, you have to work for me. Maybe you've missed the signs, but I own a security company. That means fighting, hand to hand, guns, knives, and because of a couple of traditional families, sword fighting. So yes, you will learn how to fight, or you will go home with your tail between your legs and have to explain to your father why would couldn't stay. I'd like to see how that's going to affect your standing within your family."

The otter deflated. Those families who were obsessed with letting the world know they were better than everyone else also seemed overly concerned with the position of each men within the family structure.

"None of you are any better than anyone else in this company. How you handled your job, or in for the immediate future your training, will dictate how you're treated. Get use to it right now because I have no patience for elitist attitude." I looked them over, the more brazen of them now the most subdued. Good. Reality was a bitch when I wielded it. Time to blow another bubble.

"There is no sex allowed in the locker room."

Protests erupted, even the capybara was shouting, although he was the first to regain control of himself.

"You're the minority, not only that for a lot of the men working for me are straight. So the entire ground floor is a no sex zone. The second floor is a mix of sleeping rooms and common rooms. The door on the left leads to the gay area, on the right the straight one. You want to fuck, you go there. I will not--" My phone rang, Martin's emergency tone. "Tom take over, I need to take this." I walked away.

"Mar--"

"Denton, thank His name you picked up." He was out of breath, sounding near panic. "You've got to come right now."

"Martin, what's going on?" I picked up speed and ignored Tom calling after me.

"I'm so sorry, it's Mag--" Marting gasped. I was running now.

"What happened to my sister!" I demanded I ran through the lobby.

"It's--I can't--"

I slammed my shoulder into the door leading to the entryway and ignored the elevator there. I grabbed the stair.

"Martin," I pleaded. "Tell me shows okay."

"We're at Denver Memorial, hurry." The call ended.

With a curse I called him back, but got his message center. I exited into the parking lot and located the GM Grand-Prix. I set my phone on override mode and got in, slamming it in the slot. As soon as the car started, I forced myself to slow down. Wrapping myself around one of the column here wouldn't help Magdalene.

Once I was out of the underground parking I took off.

"Call Martin."

"You've reached Martin Cormoran's mess--"

"End call." Fuck. What had they been up to? Martin wasn't officially a field agent, he was my accountant, but he'd taken it upon himself to teach high speed driving to anyone who wanted to learn. A car accident? Except he'd said Magdee was the one hurt. She was supposed to be arranging for representatives of her faction to visit.

"Call Martin!"

His fucking message center again.

At least Denver Memorial wasn't too far and mid-morning traffic wasn't too bad. And for once no cops were in my tail. He was looking after me today.

I skidded to a stop in front of the emergency entrance and ran out of the car.

"You can't leave that there," the security guard yelled after me.

"Then get the fucking thing towed!"

I ran to the information desk. "Magdalene Brislow," I said, panting. The nurse on the other side looked at me, calm expression and I was about to scream at him.

"Dent!" Martin called. "Finally!" he ran at me and grabbed my arm.

"How is she?" I asked as he pulled me into the elevator.

"No time, you have to come."

"Damn it, Martin, how is my sister? What happened? Was it the Lewistons? I'm going to kill Raphael for this."

The doors opened without him answering me and he was dragging me along through corridors, pushing doors opened ahead of us. But the asshole wouldn't answer me.

Finally we stopped in a small room. On the wall before us was another door, next to it a window looking into what looked more like a hospital bedroom than an operating room, but a doctor's back was hiding the operating table, two nurses on each side were tending to the patient.

I opened my mouth to scream at Martin when the doctor reached for something, letting me see the cheetah on the bed.

I fear turned to anger.

"You fucking ass-"

"Denton, stop." The cougar raised his hands.

"You fucking know how I feel about this! About her!" I was back there again. Trapped, fucking her, hearing her cries of pleasure mix in with my grunts. Moving against my will, trying not to drown in my own disgust.

"This isn't about her, Denton." Martin's tone was so fucking calm I wanted to deck him. "It isn't about you either. It's about him. About your son."

"I don't fucking want--"

"I know. And after this I promise, I'll never as you to see him or even be in the same room as him. But a son has to know his father. This is the only chance for that to happen. Denton, you need to understand. This bond we share with Him, it's initiated through our fathers. If you don't acknowledge him as yours, how can He acknowledge him as His?"

"That sounds like pure bullshit."

Martin gave me a small smile. "Maybe it is, but it's what my family believes. Dad said that your family also felt it was important for the father to be present at birth. I'm asking you to do this for your son."

I looked into the room. Fortunately the doctor was hiding her from view. "Martin, I swear, if you pull something like this on my again. I will deck you. Do you have any idea how many traffic laws I broke getting here?"

"I can imagine."

"I thought Magdalene was hurt."

"I'm sorry, I figured anyone else and you might not come."

"Fuck." Did he have any idea what he was asking of me? To be in the same room as her?

But if this was for the baby.

I'd been in plenty of situation I didn't want to be in to help someone else. Being a cop had meant putting myself at risk all the time for others. If I removed the magical bullshit, the talk of a god, and acknowledging, this is what this was, right? Putting myself in an uncomfortable position for the sake of someone else.

"Fine." I took a breath and glared at Martin as he handed me scrubs. I put them on. Spread the cream over the areas where my fur was still exposed and went in.

The doctor, a beagle, glanced at me. "Who are you?"

The question threw me. "I--"

"Look, this isn't a spectator sport and you're clearly not medical staff, not in those dirty jeans. So do me the favor of exiting."

"I'm the father," I blurted.

He sighed. "Of course you are." He looked at the woman in the bed. "Isn't that just like us? We get you into this situation and then we show up at the last minute once most of the work's done. I swear, I don't know what you ladies put up with us. Well, don't stand there, go offer whatever emotional support you're able to." He indicated the cheetah's shoulder with a nod.

I looked at the position and caught her eyes. The fear in them, which morphed as she cried out in pain. Her stomach was so fucking big, why wasn't she exploding?

I was next to her. Hand on her shoulder. Disgust fighting with wanting to comfort someone in pain. Her screams pierced through my vision of moving on top of her. Replacing the sounds of pleasure she'd made.

I tried to fight my way out of the memory. It had been horrible enough when I was a prisoner of her pleasure, but now that it sounded like I was hurting her, it was even worse.

And then it was silent.

She was panting, eyes closed, tears falling down her cheeks. I could hardly breathe.

Then someone cried. A high pitch wail and I looked.

"There you go, little man," the doctor said. "That's it. Take your first breath. It only gets better from here on out."

They cleaned him. He was so fucking small, and he cried the entire time. The cries of someone who's lost everything he held dear. Who didn't know, couldn't know, what would happen next. None of the cooing the doctor said as he wrapped the little bundle in a gray cloth helped.

Then he offered the bundle to me and I stepped back in fear.

"You might as well take him now, there's not returning him," the doctor said.

I reached for him, hands shaking. What the fuck was I supposed to do?

The doctor placed my hands and let go. The little bundle quieted.

"Well, that has got to be a first," the doctor said. "He actually likes you."

"What?"

The doctor chuckled. "Never mind me. Just cradle him while I make sure his mother is okay."

I looked at the little face, his eyes were closed, his ears still folded back. Still humid he looked like he'd been shaved.

He mewed.

Someone was holding me up. Voices around me, concerned, amused.

He mewed again. And it pierced my heart. Tears fell down my cheeks.

This was my son. Mine.

He mewed again, and I smiled at him. "Hello little one." What was I supposed to say now? To do? To let him know he was safe now. That I was going to protect him. Show him all the wonders the world had to offer. That he was lucky enough to be born into a family where magic was real?

There was a hand on my arm and someone reached him, for my son.

"No." I backed from them. They weren't going to take him from me. They weren't going to hurt him.

"Sir," the nurse said softly, "his mother needs to hold him."

I looked at her, the mother of my son, and she was terrified. I fought my instincts. I couldn't keep him from her. She wouldn't hurt him.

Handing him over to the nurse hurt. I was ripping a part of my heart and hoping a stranger wouldn't drop it. Then he was in his mother's arms and the joy on her face hurt even more.

He was my son. He shouldn't make someone else this happy.

I staggered out of the room and leaned against the wall, hands on knees, trying to breathe, trying to think, trying to do anything other than run back in that room and take my son, protect him from all of them.

"I'm sorry," Martin whispered.

"You fucking should be."

"I had to try, Dent. Being a father, it's important to us."

"You had no right to trick me like that."

"Tricking people is kind of the thing I do. It's my ability after all."

I glared at him, but the hurt in his eyes doused my anger. He understood the risk he'd taken, the danger he was still in. He'd been willing to sacrifice our friendship over this. He'd seen how I've been treating his father these lasts months and he was willing to endure that for a chance I'd understand what it meant to be a father.

I so fucking wanted to be pissed at him.

"Thank you," was what I said instead. "But I'm going to deck you when I'm over this, so prepare yourself."

Martin smiled. "I do deserve it for what I pulled."

"Magdee?"

"She's in the waiting room. They wouldn't let her up since she isn't technically family. Your sister can be scary when she's angry."

"You have no idea. It's a surprise this hospital is still standing."

"I think all the children in it are what saved it."

* * * * *

I stopped as I saw the cougar looking into the room. Maximilian looked pensive. Slightly pained. I'd watched the scream out of my fur. How doctors could endure that stuff in theirs anytime they had to operate was beyond me. I'd also had a talk with my sister. Warned her that if she ever went along with something like this, she'd never get to see her nephew. In that time my son's mother had been moved to a room, and he's been moved here.

I stood next to Maximilian and looked in. Even if there was nothing visible of him cocooned into his gray cloth, I knew which of the babies he was. I wished they'd put him in something livelier than gray. Yellow would be better.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Maximilian said cautiously.

"So you didn't put Martin up to it?"

The cougar sighed. "What did he do now?"

"The right thing." I placed a hand on the glass. "You don't have to worry about it, Max. I'll take care of him."

"Dent, you don't have to. If you don't--"

"He's my son." I glared at him. "I will raise him. I will care for him. Me, not you, not Martin, me."

Maximilian studied me. "His mother?"

I looked at my son. "I can't keep her from him. He's going to need her as much as me. She's resting, when she wakes up, I'm going to talk with her, try to figure out what to do with this." I rested my forehead on the glass. "Fuck. I have to move again. I've barely settled into my apartment."

Max placed a hand on my shoulder. "I think this might be the last time you have to. But you don't have to rush thing. They can stay with Martin until you're ready."

"I don't want them to, but I don't have a choice. I might have to move in with Martin too while I find a place. I'm not sure I'll survive being away from him."

"I doubt Martin will complain. And if he does, I know Colby will enjoy having access to you more often."

I groaned. Like having the armadillo in the office all day long wasn't enough of a distraction.

"The things I'll have to put up with to be a father."

"As one father to another," Maximilian said. "It's all worth it."