Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(142)

As she finally mourned her family, he gently pried one hand away and moved it down, pressing it against her stomach. When she tried to pull her hand away, he gently pushed it back and covered it with his own. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against her hair and held her.

“You will never be alone again.”

*-*-*-*

“Give. Me. A. Coke.”

“No,” Chris said, pressing a tiny kiss to the top of his newborn daughter’s head. “Not while you’re breastfeeding.”

“Then we’ll buy formula,” Izzy bit out evenly, looking close to killing her mate.

Chris paused mid-kiss to glare at his mate. “You dare suggest giving my precious babies formula?” he demanded as though Izzy had suggested giving the babies crack coc**ne.

Shaking his head with a sigh, Kale carefully placed Jessica on the bed beside her mother. Once the toddler was settled in next to Izzy, he sat down on the bed and laid back with CJ in his arms. The baby boy curled up against him in his sleep as he continued to dream of that 69’ Mustang that Kale had promised him for his sixteenth birthday.

“Don’t you have some place to be?” Chris snapped at him.

“No, not really,” he said, kissing the top of the baby’s fuzzy head.

“Well, get the hell out anyway,” Chris snarled, apparently still pissed that he’d kept the whole New York episode to himself.

“It was none of your business so get over it,” he said, turning his head to give Jessica a mock glare as the little girl reached for his nose, apparently still hellbent on getting revenge for the game they’d played earlier.

“You should have told us,” Chris said, apparently deciding to take up where his father had left off, bitching him out about loyalty and all that other bullshit that he didn’t owe any of them.

“But, I didn’t,” he pointed out with a shrug.

“You should have-”

“Oh, my God!” Izzy snapped, cutting off her mate. “He never tells us anything! Either get me a Coke or let it go! You know this was just a job to him!”

Kale didn’t say anything, just continued to hold CJ in his arms. He didn’t bother telling them that this was anything but a job to him, that after he saw what that piece of shit had done to Cloe that he’d decided to give her the one thing that he’d swore he’d never give to another woman.

His protection.

For the rest of his life, Cloe and her children would be his to protect and watch over. Her children, God help him, would make it to their immortality. As much as it pained him to protect more Pytes, he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t protect the mother and not the children, couldn’t let Cloe experience the pain of losing a child. As far as the rest of the shifter population was concerned, Cloe belonged to him.

“Is no one getting me a Coke?” Izzy demanded when the silence in the room thickened to the point of danger.

As one, both men turned their glares at the small woman breastfeeding her newborn baby daughter and snapped, “No!”

Izzy looked pointedly away with her little nose in the air. “Then I hate you both,” she said with an uppity sniffle that had them both rolling their eyes and their lips twitching despite the tension in the room.

She was just so damn cute sometimes.

“If you want our help then you’re going to start sharing,” Chris announced, ruining his, semi, good mood.

“No,” he said immediately, because he didn’t need their help.

“How exactly do you plan on finding the other Pytes without our help?” Chris asked, sounding genuinely curious as he carefully sat down on the chair by the large bed.

“The same way that I handle any other job,” he said, pressing a baby kiss against CJ’s head before he carefully laid the sleeping baby on the bed as he stood up, making sure to put a pillow on either side of him to keep him safe.

“And how’s that?”

“Sorry,” he said, leaning over the babies and pressing a kiss against Izzy’s head, ignoring the little grumble she muttered in response, “but that’s a trade secret.”

*-*-*-*

“How is she?”

Christofer looked up from his quickly cooling glass of blood and shrugged. “As good as can be expected I guess.”

Which wasn’t saying much.

For the past few hours he’d held her in his arms while she’d laid there, staring off into space, appearing lost to the world. She hadn’t moved or spoken since she’d broken down. He’d dried her off, dressed her and tucked her into bed after he coaxed her into taking a little blood from him. Once she was done, she’d closed her eyes and drifted off, all the fight in her gone.

She was lost and he had no idea how to bring her back.

Ephraim nodded as he grabbed a glass and poured blood into it. He took a sip, cringing at the cold metallic taste as he sat down across from Christofer at the kitchen table.

“What’s your plan now?” he asked, taking another sip before he pushed the glass away with a disgusted shake of his head.

“You mean now that my mate is no longer being hunted by some sick, psychotic piece of shit?” Christofer asked with a humorless laugh. “I have no idea what we’re going to do now.”

“You know that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Ephraim reminded him.