Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

One month later

 

Tailor ran to the front door of his cabin at the sound of the doorbell and opened it to find Manning and Quinn on his porch. Quinn was holding their son, Hael, and Manning stood beside him with a large box in one arm and a second on his other side that almost reached his full height.

“You got them both?” Tailor asked excitedly.

Manning grinned. “We picked them up today from the store. Are you sure Dhani isn’t going to mind?”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Yes, he’s going to mind! Just like I did when Manning got our son the same things. I hope you’re prepared to sleep on the couch for the next week,” he said to Tailor.

Tailor shrugged before taking the larger box from Manning and hoisting it over his shoulder. “He’ll get over it. It’s for the baby.”

“Right,” Quinn drew out in exaggeration. “That’s why you’re doing this behind his back.”

Dhani walked in from the living room carrying Sevrick on his hip. “Doing what behind my back?”

Manning passed Tailor swiftly, patting him on the back. “All yours, buddy.”

Dhani narrowed his gaze on the box Tailor held, then glared at him. “You are not putting that in the baby’s room.”

“Of course not!” Tailor said offensively. “I would never put our son’s health in jeopardy by putting an inflatable castle in his bedroom, or a racecar bed. He’s too young for them.”

Dhani nodded slowly. “Good.”

“I’m putting them in his playroom.”

“With the collection of weapons you hung on the wall for him?” Dhani exclaimed.

Tailor strode to the guest bedroom he’d converted into a playroom for Sevrick with Dhani marching angrily behind him. “One day, he’s going to master those weapons. He’s a warrior, just like me. Last night, he rolled over to grab my weapons harness. By this time next year, he’ll be ready to start training. I thought I’d give him a little incentive for now.”

“With a racecar bed and a bouncing castle?”

Tailor set the box next to Manning in the playroom, then took Sevrick from Dhani. Pride swelled in his chest when his son grabbed a tiny handful of his hair and smiled around a gurgling noise. Since Deirdra had been a Bassen’kir at the time she’d given birth to her child, Sevrick had been born with a spirit. And his spirit called to Tailor’s own as though their paths had always been meant to intertwine.

Tailor couldn’t explain it, and he’d given up on trying some time ago. Sevrick was his as surely as Dhani was, and the knowledge was the most terrifying gift of joy he’d ever experienced.

He faced Sevrick to the wall he’d been designing over the past week and said, “You’re going to be a fierce, badass little warrior when you get older. Better than your old man. And I’m going to make sure I’ll always be there to protect you. Just like your dad,” he said, looking to Dhani.

On the wall, he pointed to the weapons he’d mounted, and underneath each one was a plaque that read, ‘Baby’s first shuriken’, ‘Baby’s first katana’, ‘Baby’s first nunchaku’ and more.

Dhani shook his head with a hopeless smile. “You’re pathetic, you know that? Our son’s going to have issues.”

“Yeah,” Tailor said, grinning. “But long after we’re dead, he’ll still be kickin’ ass.”

Dhani laughed and stepped into Tailor’s open arm, tilting his head back to meet Tailor’s kiss.

“You know,” Manning said thoughtfully, “This baby weapons room has some merit. We should make one for Hael.”

“Ugh!” Quinn groaned.