CAUTION: This story contains implied sexual activity between minors, violence, and profanity. Reader discretion is advised.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Assam Chai
by IndigoNeko
Chapter 8
Tuesday, June 21st, 2016
The town of Winter Creek lies within a valley about three miles wide, and the Oakbower neighborhood sits near the middle of it, slightly southwest. It’s one of the oldest suburbs of the small mountain community, dating back to the 1940s. Within that neighborhood is a small single-story house with olive-colored trim and pale yellow plank siding.
The entire house has a grand total of 900 square feet of living space, divided up into two bedrooms, one living room, one kitchen and dining room, and one bathroom. The real estate catalog listing when it was sold in the late 1960s described the house as ‘cozy’ and ‘intimate’. When it was put up for sale again in the mid 1990s, the real estate website had included the terms ‘compact’ and ‘efficient’. By modern standards, it was ‘quant’ and ‘inexpensive’. The entire house, including the roof, the front porch, and the attached car port, could easily have fit within the Andreyev family’s great room.
The meagre footprint of the house didn’t bother the family of field mice who lived there, since the tallest of them was barely five and a half feet tall, and he was tall for a mouse. To them, it was ‘home’. The front door opened straight into the khaki-painted living room with darker tan carpet, which held a single long taupe-colored sofa, a La-Z-Boy recliner, and dark-brown coffee table. Opposite the sofa was a classic 1970s McIntosh stereo system with an amp, radio tuner, audio cassette player, and record player. It sat between a pair of bookshelves packed with books and board games. Strangely enough, there was no television to be found anywhere in the house.
The warm earth tones of the furniture complimented the brown fur of the young mouse sitting at one end of the sofa... but not her neon-yellow shoulder-length hair, which didn’t match much of anything in the room, even her faded blue-jeans or dark green t-shirt. Next to her on the couch sat a wicker basket filled with skeins of yarn in various sizes and colors. A strand of yarn stretched from the basket to the half-finished blanket in the mouse’s hands, who was currently crocheting while listening to ‘Fragile’ by ‘Yes’. A particularly bad static pop warned her that it was time to clean the old vinyl record.
The orange-and-purple-furred half-jerboa, half-malabar squirrel hybrid sitting next to her on the recliner was paying no attention to the classic ‘70s rock. She was focused instead on the field mouse’s rapidly moving hands and the silver crochet needle that she held.
“I still think that’s witchcraft,” Azalea muttered, resuming the argument from five minutes earlier.
“Only because you don’t know how to do it,” Willow countered. “I told you, it’s easy.”
The half-squirrel narrowed her eyes, watching intently. Another ten seconds passed before she announced “Nope. That’s definitely black magic. I’ve been watching you for five minutes now, trying to figure it out, and I still have no idea how you’re doing that.”
“Look, I’ll teach you-” the field mouse started to say, only to be interrupted by the other rodent’s cell phone ringing.
Azalea was so intent on Willow’s rapid hand-movements that she either didn’t hear or didn’t care about the incoming call. It wasn’t until the third ring when Willow stopped crocheting and asked “Are you going to answer that?” that she finally looked down at the phone in her hand.
Instantly recognizing the name on the phone’s display, the half-jerboa quickly answered the incoming call and tapped the button to set the audio output to speaker phone. After a second she answered “Incontinence hotline. Please hold.”
The room was silent for about three seconds before Willow snerked, then broke into laughter, followed a moment later by Azalea.
“I figured you two would be hanging out together,” the voice on the other line said.
“Hello, Alex,” Willow said, resuming her crocheting.
“Hey Willow. Are you two having a good summer vacation?” the tigress on the other line asked.
“Well, I was,” Azalea replied, “until Jenny decided to have a party at my house. We’re taking refuge at Willow’s right now.”
“And where is that?” Alex slowly asked, clearly curious.
“Oakbower. About three blocks west of main street,” Willow answered, setting aside her crochet hook and blanket before pulling out the skein of yarn she was using, which had somehow become tangled.
“Oh! I didn’t know you lived in Winter Creek,” the tiger said, surprised. After a moment shi accusingly added “You don’t take the bus with us.”
“Of course not,” Willow said, quite blasé. “My dad drives me.”
Alex huffed irritably. “If I’d known you lived here in Winter Creek I would have hung out with you,” shi said. “Actually... that’s perfect. You’re only a ten minute walk from my house right now. Remember the creepy log cabin, Azzy?”
“Yeees,” Azalea answered suspiciously.
“Unlike some people, Star Dreamer actually believed me when I told him about the Cat Sí up there, and did something about it,” the tigress said. “He told me yesterday that it’s been purified in fire and the ashes spread with salt and rowan. Want to go check it out?”
Willow immediately froze, ears perking up and turning and looking to look at Azalea. “There’s a ‘creepy log cabin’ near here?”
“Ooooh, no,” Azalea flatly refused. “We are not going back to the creepy log cabin. You nearly died falling through the floor, and now you want to go back?” the hybrid yelled angrily. “You don’t have nine lives, stupid cat!”
“I just want to see what they did to it,” Alex insisted, trying to reassure the rodent. “I’m not going to go inside. Besides, the hike will be good exercise.”
“This is starting to sound like an adventure,” Willow said with a grin.
“Awww, shit,” Azalea said with a groan. “Not you too.”
“So, are you two going to come over to my place so we can go check it out?”
“Hell, yes!” Willow said, moving the basket of yarn off the couch before standing up excitedly. “Adventure!”
__________________________________________________
Five minutes after calling Azalea, Alex perked up as her phone beeped with a warning that someone had entered the camera’s field of view in the front of the house. The tigress quickly jogged downstairs to the side door and opened it up, just as Azalea was about to press the button on the doorbell. “That was fast,” Alex said. “Come on in.”
“We rode my bike over,” Willow said, glancing around before stepping inside. “Geez. What is it with you guys and your enormous houses? Compensating for something?”
Alex snorted and closed the door after Azalea stepped inside. “Compensating for an unexpected pair of children. Mom and Dad had given up trying for cubs years ago. Then ‘boom’, Mom’s pregnant with twins. But if you think this place is big, you should see The Dojo.”
Both Azalea and Willow raised eyebrows at that. “You mean, like, a karate dojo?” the field mouse asked.
“Exactly. Mom had it built this spring,” Alex said, pointing at the framed poster hanging above the fireplace. It was the same picture they’d put on the brochures that they’d distributed at stores along main street, showing the stone courtyard with cherry trees in bloom along the sides, highlighting the two-story building that looked like an ancient Buddhist temple. Raenne stood in front, wearing her karate gi, in a fighting pose.
“Whoa,” Willow said, walking over to take a look at the poster. “You’re kidding. That’s here in Winter Creek? That looks like something from Japan.”
“That’s the idea,” Alex said. “It’s three miles up the road that heads east out of town. Classes are seven o’clock in the evening, Monday through Friday.”
“Huh. That’s a bit of a ways outside of town...” Willow muttered.
“Yeah. Apparently the town’s got a bunch of silly rules that require buildings to match the town’s existing decor. So Mom had to build it outside the city limits. It’s not that far, really. I’ve biked over to it a couple of times now. It’s about a fifteen minute ride. Fun too; the road’s all twisty. There’s no bike lane though, and cars go flying down it.”
“I didn’t know you had a bike,” Azalea said, looking over at the tigress. “We could have biked over to the arcade when I still lived here in town.”
“I just got it,” Alex explained, “at the beginning of summer.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, let’s go,” Alex said, sitting down near the door and putting on hir hiking boots. “We’ll have to go on foot; the woods east of here are a bit too dense to bike through. Once we hit the service road it’ll be easier. We follow that south for a bit until it turns to gravel, then it’s tall grass until we reach the aspen grove.”
“Yeeeaaah,” the half-squirrel muttered. “I remember spending half an hour brushing burrs out of my tail last time.”
“Quit yer bitchin’,” Willow said. “We’re going on an adventure!”
Azalea sighed.
“What’s the matter, Azzy?” Alex asked. “Last time we went you were all excited to go exploring. You even wanted to go up there with your easel and paint some of the views from up there.”
“That was before you fell through the floor and nearly died, and I had to go get a cantankerous old coot to rescue you,” Azalea explained.
“Aengus isn’t that bad,” Alex muttered, standing up and stomping twice to make sure hir feet were all the way in. Shi didn’t wear plantigrade style shoes that often and they always felt weird at first. Shi bent and tied the laces tight. “Besides, we’re not going inside the creepy old cabin. It may not even be standing anymore if they burned it down.”
Five minutes later, the three cubs made it out of the dense pine and spruce forest and over the small ridge and up onto the cement service road. “That’s where Aengus lives,” shi said, pointing up the road at the tiny house with a steep roof and a narrow chimney. A rusty old pickup truck was parked just in front. Chunks of rocky gravel formed a crude path that continued on where the service road ended just past Aengus’s house.
“Wow, that house is even smaller than mine,” the field mouse muttered. “It’s probably just as old too.”
“Looks like it was built in the forties or fifties,” the half-jerboa added. “And that truck is probably from the late sixties.”
“Probably built about the same time Aengus was born,” the tigress mused. “I’m guessing he’s lived there his whole life. He’s probably had that truck since he learned how to drive.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Azalea agreed.
“Anyway, the cabin’s that way,” Alex said, heading further up the road, eventually passing Aengus’s house. Within minutes they were trudging through waist-high mountain brome and rocky mountain fescue, most of which had turned brown from lack of rain over the past month.
“Jeez, you weren’t kidding about brushing burrs out of your tail, Azzy,” Willow said. “This may be the first time I’ve been glad that my tail’s nearly naked. You look like you’re carrying half the seeds in this meadow in that fluff of yours.”
Azalea sighed. “Don’t remind me. Alex, you’re helping me brush my tail out when we get back to your place.”
“Sure, if you’ll help me check for ticks,” the tigress countered.
“Ticks?” Willow asked, nervously.
“Yep,” Alex confirmed. “They’re not a big deal. They’ve gotta be on your for at least a day before you’re at risk of getting lyme disease.”
“Oh,” the field mouse said, then started walking again, keeping her eyes aimed at the ground, glancing around nervously.
“Mom told me about ‘em beginning of summer, when we started going shooting,” the tigress continued.
“Shooting?” Azalea asked.
“Yup. Pistols, submachine guns, shotguns, assault rifles, sniper rifles...” Alex started, then sighed. “Mom wants me to know how to shoot just about anything.”
“What the heck?” the hybrid asked. “Is she training you to be a super soldier or something?”
“Sometimes it feels like it.” Alex heaved a deep sigh. “For all I know, the Russian mafia’s still after us.”
“Did they ever figure out who those people were that killed your grandparents?” Azalea asked, remembering the story Alex had told after getting kidnapped back in January.
“Nope. All I know is they were scary as shit,” Alex said, shivering slightly at the memory. “Both of ‘em had shotguns and body armor. I dropped to the ground and ten seconds later...”
__________________________________________________
Willow was listening with only one ear, focused more on where she was putting her feet while crossing the rocky field as they headed towards the aspen grove in the distance. The conversation between Alex and Azalea was growing wilder with every sentence and she was starting to feel like she’d missed something after the tigress had mentioned ticks. She hated ticks. And spiders. There were probably thousands in this field. She shuddered.
“Sorry, but I wasn’t paying attention,” Willow finally interrupted. “What silly video game are you two talking about this time?”
Both Alex and Azalea stopped and turned to face her. Willow froze as well. Sure it had been sarcastic, but it wasn’t that bad of a faux pas to lose track of the conversation.
“Can I tell her?” Azalea asked Alex.
“Sure. It doesn’t bother me any more,” Alex replied with a shrug. “Therapy, remember?”
Willow was about to ask what the heck that was supposed to mean when Azalea nodded and turned to explain.
“Willow, we’re not talking about video games,” Azalea said. “Alex was kidnapped back in January. Don’t you remember the AMBER Alert just after New Years?”
“Uh... No?” Willow said, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend. “I didn’t have a phone then.”
“Oh... But it was all over the local news. You should have seen it,” Azalea persisted.
Willow mentally sighed. She didn’t have a television and couldn’t watch the news. She waved her paw to get Azalea to continue on with the story.
“So... Yeah. Alex was kidnapped on hir way to school and got knocked-the-hell-out. Shi got a concussion so bad shi looked like David Bowie for weeks. One of the kidnappers was found dead a few blocks from Alex’s house-”
“That was the one who knocked me out. Jordan shot him ‘cause he went berserk after I clawed his eye out,” Alex added quietly, hunching hir shoulders while looking down at the ground. “It’s my fault he’s dead; I didn’t know he was mentally handicapped.”
The field mouse glanced back and forth from Azalea to Alex, wondering if they were trying to pull one over on her. This sounded improbable... like one of the stories they sometimes told at school during lunch.
“Anyway, The other two goons stole a car, drove to a private airport, jumped a private plane, and flew this half-dead cat halfway across the country, all the way to Philadelphia-”
“They weren’t goons, they were bodyguards,” Alex interrupted. “And they were really nice. Douglas even taught me how to fly the plane.”
“I don’t care if they were nice; they kidnapped you,” Azalea said heatedly. “Now who’s fuckin’ this chicken?”
The tigress went silent, poking at a rock with the toe of hir hiking boot.
“That’s right. Me,” the half-squirrel said. “Anyway, they kidnapped hir just so that hir ex-mafia grandparents could see hir. The next day they took Alex out for a night on the town. They’re leaving this fancy Chinese restaurant-”
“Russian restaurant.”
“Alex!” Azalea shouted. “So help me if you interrupt me one more time...”
“Sorry,” Alex apologized contritely, pulling hir phone out of hir pocket and tapping away at it.
“Anyway, Alex, hir grandparents, and their bodyguards are leaving this fancy restaurant when two guys in black armor and scary guns step out of the darkness and all hell breaks loose. Alex drops to the ground as everyone starts shooting. In a matter of seconds, everyone was dead except Alex.” The hybrid held hands up and spread them wide. “Headline: Eight people dead in mass shooting in north Philadelphia.”
Willow raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend. There was no way this was real. “You’re one hell of a storyteller. I didn’t know you told gangster fiction... normally you tell Guild Wars or Warhammer stories.” The mouse smirked as Azalea narrowed her eyes, probably getting mad at being called out for her bullshit.
Alex held up hir phone, turning up the volume before playing a news report video. FBI agents and police officers were walking around while a reporter in a rain coat was gesturing up the dimly lit street describing a scene of absolute carnage. The cameraman zoomed in on the back of an ambulance where a tiger cub in a black skirt and hoodie was being inspected by an EMT.
“That’s me,” shi said, pointing at the tiger cub in the ambulance. “Actually... this is the same skirt I was wearing that night,” the tigress said, looking down at the black pleated skirt hanging from hir hips. “My grandparents got it for me that morning.”
Willow felt her stomach flip; she’d been certain it was just a story, until Alex casually pulled up news footage with hir in it. The mouse looked from the phone to the tigress. She wondered what it had been like to be kidnapped and then survive a mass shooting where your grandparents died. Suddenly parts of the conversation made more sense, like the phrase ‘therapy, remember’.
“You should save that video, as proof,” Azalea pointed out. “Never know when they might take it down.”
“Good point,” Alex said, pressing a few buttons on her phone. “I’ll download it on my computer later.” The tigress looked up at Willow. “Uh... Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I... uh... yeah, so, um... WHAT THE SHIT?” the field mouse exploded, waving her arms wildly. “You knew about all this and you didn’t tell me?” she asked angrily, glaring at Azalea.
“Of course not. I promised Alex not to tell anyone,” Azalea said, giving the tigress a nod. “So I didn’t, even after Alex told the story at lunch.”
“Thanks, Azzy,” Alex said, flashing a smile at the rodent-hybrid before turning back to Willow. “Sorry for keeping you in the dark.”
Willow mentally reviewed the entire story, which was, on the face of it, completely absurd. “So... you got kidnapped by your grandparents’ bodyguards and while you were there they were murdered?”
The younger tigress solemnly nodded.
The field mouse mulled that over for a moment. “Your grandparents were really in the mafia?”
“Grandfather said he was the leader of the Солнцевская братва along the east coast until Mom burned down a bunch of their drug labs. They faked their deaths to leave the Brotherhood,” Alex confirmed. “This was all long before I was born. I didn’t know any of this until after I got kidnapped.”
Willow immediately thought about the three-story house that Alex lived in and the Japanese temple that hir mom had apparently built somewhere just east of town. “Is that why you’re so rich? Did you buy that fancy house and karate dojo with drug money?”
Alex frowned. “We’re not that rich. Not like Lizzy, anyway. Dad bought the house we’re living in now with the money that we got from selling the old one in Tualatin.” Shi sighed. “But the Dojo, eh... kinda? Mom paid for part of it with money that she stole from the mafia when she burned down their drug labs.”
Willow was curious who this ‘Lizzy’ was, but didn’t have time to ask before Azalea turned to Alex, saying, “Seriously? You never told me that part.”
The tigress shrugged. “You never asked,” shi said, turning and walking towards the aspen grove that contained their destination.
The mouse shivered. She didn’t like the idea that the temple dojo thing had been built using drug money. Willow wondered if she should report it to the police. Then again, the money had been stolen from drug dealers. Could two wrongs make a right? She’d have to think about it. Then she shivered again as an even scarier thought occurred to her. “So... Was it the mafia who killed your grandparents? Will they be coming after you and your mom, too? I mean, if she burned down their drug labs...”
The tigress paused, and glanced back at her. “Probably.” They were all quiet for a few seconds, staring at Alex. After a moment shi turned and continued walking.
The fur along the back of Willow’s neck stood on end. She liked the tigress, but there was no way in hell she was going to hang out with hir if the Russian mafia was looking for them. She didn’t have a death wish. She had a feeling that she and Azalea were going to have an argument about it after they got back home.
“Alex, don’t take this the wrong way,” Azalea said, turning to follow the tigress, “but you scare me.”
Willow relaxed a bit. Maybe they wouldn’t get into an argument. Then the field mouse smirked, glancing over at her girlfriend, unable to resist the temptation to poke fun at her. “Yeeeah,” she said, following the tigress. “Alex, no offense, but anyone who hangs out with you must be nuttier than squirrel shit.”
At that, the half-squirrel flipped around. “What did you just say?” Azalea asked, glaring at her.
“I said you’re nuttier than squirrel shit,” Willow replied, still smirking at the hybrid.
“You know that’s a speciest stereotype, right? You know that I’m a squirrel, right?” Azalea protested.
“That’s why I said it,” Willow replied, flashing the half-squirrel a brilliant smile.
Azalea heaved a sigh of exasperation.
__________________________________________________
The field was empty now, save for the apple tree that Alex remembered, whose branches spread high and wide growing in the exact center of the glade. The air smelled of smoke, thick enough to tickle the backs of the three cubs’ throats. Most of the field had been mowed flat, presumably as a fire break. There was nothing left of the cabin but a wide hole where the cabin’s cellar had been, full of ashes.
“Huh. That’s way deeper than I remember it being,” the tigress muttered, a few feet from the pit.
“That’s exactly as deep as I remember it being,” the half-squirrel said. “That’s why I ran for help. I sure as hell wasn’t jumping in after you when you fell through the floor.”
“Looks like they made a ramp,” Willow pointed out, gesturing to the far side of the pit. “Probably so animals can get out of it if they fall in.”
“Probably. I’m gonna check it out. Star Dreamer said they sowed the ashes with salt and rowan,” Alex said, turning and walking around the edge of the pit towards the ramp while Willow glanced around and headed for the apple tree.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Azalea snapped, darting after the tigress and grabbing hir hand. “You’re not going down into the pit. There could be nails and other stuff in there, not to mention you’ll get covered in ash.”
“I just wanted to make sure they did it right,” Alex muttered, stopping for the half-jerboa.
“If Star Dreamer said they did it, then they did it,” Azalea insisted, pulling at the tiger’s arm. “C’mon. We’ve seen what happened to the creepy log cabin. Now let’s get out of here.”
“Fine.” The tigress sighed, and followed as the half-squirrel led them back away from the pit. “You know they never found the cat-”
“Hey guys? You want an apple?” Willow yelled, standing under the apple tree. The mouse reached up into the lowest branches and plucked a few apples. “Looks like they’re nearly ripe.”
“Uh, sure,” Azalea said, heading over and accepting an apple. She bit into it with a crunch and juice dripped down her fuzzy chin.
“Alex?” the mouse asked, holding an apple out while taking a bite out of another.
“Thanks,” the tigress said, accepting the fruit. Shi wedged hir thumb-claws into the top near the stem and pressed inwards. The apple split into two perfect halves with a pop, and shi held up one half to take a nibble.
Willow raised an eyebrow, swallowed, then asked the tigress “Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Alex asked, confused.
“Tear it in half. I didn’t even know you could do that,” the mouse said, looking down at the apple in her hands. She tried pulling it in half, without success.
“Uh... ‘Cause apples are hard to eat?” Alex said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“Tigers have teeny tiny incisors between those two big fangs,” Azalea explained, then smirked. “They’re bad for eating apples, but they don’t get in the way of other things,” she joked, holding her hands in front of her waist and thrusting her hips a few times.
Willow gagged at the thought, then yelled “Azalea! Stop being gross!”
The half-squirrel laughed until she was smacked in the chest with a half eaten apple. “Ow!”
A minute later the three cubs reached the edge of the aspen trees surrounding the field. Alex stopped, feeling the hair on the back of hir neck stand on end, and whirled to look around. A small black cat, weighing no more than a dozen pounds, was watching hir from its perch atop a burnt tree stump in the exact center of the glade.
__________________________________________________
The shoji door at the foot of the basement staircase slid to the side with a faint hiss, and Raenne stepped into the lounge with Kate in her baby sling and Nick in one arm. The lights overhead flickered on automatically, and the tigress padded across the room, stepping around the sofas on her way towards the door on the far side with the ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign. She tapped in the code on the keypad and waited for the deadbolt to recede before pushing the door open.
Another bank of automatic lights flickered on, revealing a computer desk, mannequins draped in riot armor, a play pen for the twins, a bed, sofa, and two different kinds of wooden wing-chun training dummies. Raenne dropped off the twins in the play pen before heading over to the desk, pulling open the drawer to the side and pulling out the folder of student registration forms. There were only two dozen, and the very first happened to be the one she was looking for.
Raenne pulled out her cell phone and unlocked the screen, then opened the phone app. She stared at the key pad, wondering when voice calls were going to become obsolete, then sighed and tapped in the phone number written on the registration form. She sat down at the computer chair before tapping the green button to start the call and holding the phone up. The phone rang twice before the call connected.
An unfamiliar voice answered “Hello?” Given the deep pitch, Raenne assumed it was the girl’s father, Hank.
“Hello. This is Sensei Raenne with the Winter Creek Shotokan Karate Dojo,” the tigress said, giving her ‘professional’ greeting. “Ginnie Miller didn’t show up for class yesterday, and I was just wondering if she’s alright; I still feel bad about that first lesson...”
“Um, actually, we’re just stepping out the door to head to the hospital. We’re pretty sure she’s about to lay an egg... except that nobody in our immediate family’s oviparous.”
The tigress blinked. She’d never considered that possibility. It made stomach injuries much more dangerous... even lethal. “I won’t keep you then. Good luck and drive safe.”
“Thanks.”
The line went dead and Raenne set the phone down, then pulled a Post-it note off the stack next to the computer keyboard and stuck it to Ginnie’s registration paper before grabbing a pen and writing ‘Oviparous?’ across the purple paper and underlining it twice. Figuring this warranted at least a bit of research, Raenne reached behind the left side of the iMac sitting on the desk and pressed the power button.
__________________________________________________
Isabel sighed. “Fine,” she muttered, pulling open her purse and taking out her wallet. She fished out a set of five dollar bills and handed them over to her kids. “Remember, low carb options only. Jerky or meat sticks, preferably.”
“Thanks Mom,” Kayson said, following his excited younger sisters out the door on a hunt for the nearest vending machine.
The monitor lizard set her purse back down on one of the chairs and stepped over to the hospital bed, taking hold of her husband’s hand. “How are you holding up? Is the pain manageable now?”
“Yes,” Henry whispered. “I’m doing much better since they finished flushing those drugs out of my system.”
Isabel sighed. “I wish you hadn’t taken that morphine. I know, you did it to keep us safe, but...”
“That man was a monster,” Henry said quietly. “All I could think about was what he would do to our little ones if I didn’t do what he said. Better to die than give him reason to hurt you all.”
“I know, my love,” Isabel said, squeezing her husband’s hand. “You’re a good man.” She felt tears forming in her eyes and quickly ran the back of her hands over them. “Speaking of good men... I didn’t tell you how we found you. A tiger with a pair of kittens showed up at our door, saying he’d been asked to check on us by a private investigator. They told me how to get your cars’ GPS coordinates, then we gave them to the police. That’s how they found you.”
“Another tiger?” Henry asked, visibly shivering.
“His name was David Andreyev,” Isabel explained. “I don’t remember the investigator’s name. His last name was Owen, I think. David said that his wife, Rain, had asked the investigator to look for you...”
__________________________________________________
Heinrich closed his eyes and swallowed as his mouth went dry. That was the name he’d forgotten: ‘Andreyev’. He didn’t like the idea that they knew where he lived, not in the slightest. They were the reason he’d gotten mixed up with that monster, Ivan, in the first place. He took a shaky breath, trying to settle his nerves.
The flight or fight portion of his brain was panicking and Henry knew it, but he’d been trained since early childhood to suppress his emotions and logically evaluate all his options; it was what made him such a damn good lawyer. He quickly reviewed the facts and came to three important conclusions:
Allan Pratt was the one who got him mixed up with the Kaminski family in the first place; the Andreyevs weren’t to blame, as much as he wanted to blame them.
The Andreyevs cared enough to personally check in on his family at risk to their own, and were the ones responsible for his rescue.
Ivan was actively hunting for them, and they needed to be warned.
Opening his eyes, he found his wife looking at him with a concerned expression on her face. “Did he leave a phone number?” Heinrich asked.
“No. Why?” Isabel asked, looking confused.
“Call the office. Get Leanne to look up the Andreyevs’ phone number. We have to warn them: Ivan’s looking for them.”
__________________________________________________
Raenne looked down at her phone, still sitting on the computer desk. The 267 area code wasn’t familiar. Then she remembered the Marriott Hotel in Consohocken. It was a Philadelphia number. She picked up the phone and swiped to answer the call, wondering if she should use a business greeting, then made a snap decision. “Winter Creek Karate Dojo. Sensei Raenne speaking.”
“Mrs. Andreyev?” a cautious voice asked.
“Yes, that’s me,” she confirmed.
“This is Isabel Pullman. My husband and I wanted to thank you and your husband for hiring that private investigator and sending your husband out to check on me. If not for you, Henry would be dead right now.”
The tigress drew in a breath, relieved that Heinrich had survived. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s going to be months recovering. He was stabbed in the chest and he’s got multiple fractures,” Isabel replied. “But he’s alive. That’s what matters.”
“I’m sorry he went through that,” Raenne said, feeling guilty. “I’d have acted sooner, but I didn’t know he was missing.”
“That’s okay... you acted, and it saved his life. I didn’t even think about hiring a P.I. to look for him until the same day your husband showed up at my door. Your kids are adorable, by the way.”
Raenne smiled, turning to look at the twins who were currently tussling with each other in the play pen. “They’re cute, but they’re also a handful. David mentioned that you have a pair of girls who were delighted to play with them. Plus a son who’s the same age as our oldest child.”
“Yes, Madison and Emily,” Isabel replied. “Kayson, uh, wasn’t interested in playing with a pair of toddlers.”
“Understandable,” Raenne said. She’d had to literally pay Alex to watch over the twins. There was a moment of awkward silence, and she didn’t quite know how to fill it. Luckily Isabel did.
“Also... I called to warn you. Henry said that Ivan tortured him for information about you and your daughter. He didn’t give your address, since he didn’t remember it, but... apparently Ivan’s somehow found out where you live anyway.”
The tigress felt the fur on the back of her neck stand on end, then reminded herself that it didn’t matter... Ivan was dead. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Ivan’s probably in custody.”
There was a brief pause before Isabel spoke. “Detective Carlisle told us they never found him or his body. Henry asked; he wanted to press charges. Henry’s worried that Ivan’s looking for you.”
Raenne’s heart started to pound as she realized that she and her family were in mortal danger. She turned to look at the mannequins. Supposedly the Chiron pre-production prototypes she’d purchased earlier that year were rated for small-arms fire.
__________________________________________________
Ginnie groaned as she climbed out of the SUV and into the wheelchair that the nurse in blue scrubs had wheeled out. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t in pain, not like earlier, but the intermittent cramps she was getting were by far the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever experienced. It was like she had the world’s worst case of constipation. Her stomach was huge, like she’d swallowed a volleyball or something. Well, maybe not quite that big... but it felt like it.
“Let’s get you inside, sweetie,” the raccoon said, turning the wheelchair around and heading through the automatic glass doors. The waiting room was empty but for a pair of rabbits with graying fur, one of which had a cane. Dad followed along behind the nurse as she wheeled the young thrush over to a wide door, down a hallway, and into a private room.
“So, first thing’s first, I’m Jessica,” the nurse said, walking over to a wall-mounted computer. “Your father called on the way over here and gave us all the information, but I’ve got to confirm some things. Your name’s Ginnie Miller, born May sixteenth, two-thousand-four?” the raccoon asked, waiting for her nod, then continued while tapping away at the keyboard. “He said you’ve been eating a lot, sleeping a lot, tired, and nauseous for the past week... and now you’ve got stomach cramps and bloating. Is that all correct?”
“Yes,” Ginnie confirmed, bobbing hir head while trying to ignore the cramps in her belly. “My doctor said I might be pregnant or gravid... but I’ve never done anything with a boy, ever!”
“Then you’re almost certainly not pregnant. Gravid is another story, since it’s possible to lay unfertilized eggs. Do you know if you’re oviparous? Are any of your family members oviparous?”
“I don’t think so...” Ginnie replied, turning to her father. “Daddy?”
“No, sweetie,” Hank replied. “Neither your mom or either of your grandparents on either side.”
“Well, then it’s unlikely, but... you certainly look like you’re gravid. Have you defecated recently?” the raccoon asked.
Ginnie nodded. “Yes. I went this morning, an hour after breakfast. It was, uh, normal?” she said, then clamped her beak shut as another cramp hit. It was horribly uncomfortable.
“Then we’ve got to do a few tests to find out what’s wrong with you. First we’ll get a blood sample and an x-ray. If we don’t find out what’s going on, then we’ll do a full CT scan. In the meantime, let’s get you out of those clothes and into a gown. Just in case you are gravid, you might want to take off your underwear as well. Would you prefer your father to wait outside while you get dressed?”
She hesitated, a bit unsure. Dad solved the issue by saying “I’ll wait outside.”
The nurse asked a few more questions, entering her answers into the computer. Finally she finished, then pulled a gown out from a drawer near the computer and handed it over. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you, and get that blood sample, okay?”
Both Ginnie’s father and the nurse (Jessica?) stepped out of the room, leaving her alone. Ginnie moaned as another cramp made her double over. After it passed, she stood up from the wheelchair and walked awkwardly over to the bed, setting the gown aside while she undressed. The most difficult part of putting the gown on was tying the ribbons on the back. She sighed and opened the door to find her father waiting.
“All done, chiclet?” Hank asked. After she nodded, he followed her back into the room, then gathered her clothes off the bed and set them on a table to one side. “They’ll probably want you up on the bed.”
“Yeah,” Ginnie said, looking it over. It was a bit higher than she was used to... almost up to her waist. Getting into it was awkward, especially with her huge belly. With a bit of a struggle, she was finally laying on her back. It looked like she was trying to smuggle a pillow under her gown.
Just when she’d gotten comfortable, another cramp made her bend over, clutching her belly. It was the worst one yet, and she felt her insides shifting... something was sliding towards her pelvis, like the biggest poop she’d ever tried to pass. “Daddy, it... help!” she cried, then whimpered as the stretching sensation became painful. “It hurts!”
Hank darted towards the door and yanked it open, yelling down the hallway for a nurse. Ginnie’s ears rang. Dad was loud when he wanted to be. He looked back in, but stayed by the door, unsure what to do. Ginnie had no idea what to do either, but her insides kept moving. Whatever it was that was inside her was coming out... now.
The pain peaked just as a pair of nurses appeared in the doorway: Jessica, followed by a brown-furred cow wearing the same blue-colored scrubs. The cow didn’t hesitate for a moment, lifting Ginnie’s gown... just in time to catch the pale green sphere that rolled out from between the young bird’s legs.
Ginnie let out a sigh of relief and collapsed back against the bed, panting. Her nethers stung, but the relief of having that... that thing out of her was incredible.
“Huh. Apparently you are oviparous,” Jessica said. “Guess that answers that question,” she said, reaching for a small microphone near her collar. “We need an OB-GYN and a delivery nurse in room four, pronto.”
“Wow,” the cow said, staring down at the pale green egg in her hands. It was easily five inches in diameter, and speckled with tiny brown dots. “Three years on the job and I’ve never held an egg before.”
“Of course not; you’re not in labor and delivery,” Jessica said. “Good catch, by the way. Just don’t drop it.”
Hank shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the speckled shell, then over at Ginnie before turning to the nurses. “Now what?”
“Uh... We put it in an incubator for two weeks, then candle it to see if it’s fertilized,” Jessica explained as a doctor and another nurse entered the room. “Doctor Wagner will explain the incubation and candling process,” she said, smirking at the steinbock in a white medical coat.
The alpine ibex looked around the crowded room, then quickly stepped over to one of the supply cabinets before taking out a white sphere nearly a foot wide. He flipped a latch on the side and opened the sphere, revealing that it was lined with several inches of padding. “First things first, let’s make sure the egg’s safe,” he said, bringing the sphere over and holding it next to the green speckled egg. “Careful, now,” he said, waiting as the cow lifted the egg into the container before he closed it and flipped the latch to lock it. A small red light turned on next to the latch. The doctor visibly relaxed, then smiled. “Okay, I’ve got it from here. Thank you Carla, Jessica,” he said, nodding to both the cow and raccoon.
The room emptied out as the three nurses left, leaving just the doctor and the two birds. “I take it this is your first time laying?” he asked, handing the white sphere over to the young thrush on the bed.
Ginnie accepted the container, holding it awkwardly. It was surprisingly light. “Yeah. I didn’t even know I’m an egg-layer. Nobody in our family is...”
“Oh?” the steinbock said, raising his eyebrows. “That’s... unexpected. It usually runs in families. Still, being oviparous is not uncommon or unusual at all. It’s by far the most common reproductive heritage trait in the world.” He smiled reassuringly. “Now, most passerines like yourself only lay eggs when fertilized, but it’s also possible to lay an unfertilized egg. Do you happen to know if this one’s been fertilized?”
“I haven’t messed around with any boys at all,” Ginnie replied, “if that’s what you’re asking...”
“Hmm. How old are you?”
“I turned twelve a few months ago.”
“Ah. Puberty then. Have you changed lifestyles recently? Become less active? Or started eating more?” the doctor asked.
“Well, I started taking karate classes a few weeks ago. I was really sore after the first session and my pediatrician recommended I start eating more, so I did...” Ginnie trailed off as the ibex began bobbing his head.
“That would do it. You’re entering puberty and you’ve suddenly increased your caloric intake. It could be a fluke, but my guess is that you’ll lay an egg every spring, fertilized or not, until you’re in your fifties. And of course you’ll lay an egg if you ‘mess around’ with any boys,” he added with an amused smile. “So, this one probably isn’t viable, but hospital policy is to incubate all eggs for two weeks, then we check to see if there’s a baby growing in it using hyperspectral imaging. Basically shining a bright light on it and using a computer to check to see if there’s any dark spots inside. The process used to be called candling, when eggs were checked manually.”
“What does it mean if it’s got dark spots?” Hank asked, standing next to the bed and resting his hand on Ginnie’s shoulder.
The ibex looked over at the older thrush. “That means it’s viable, and we’ll call to notify you that you’ve got a baby on the way. Generally we keep incubating it for another four months, after which is an assisted hatching. That’s followed by another two to three months of post-natal care, same as we give for premature babies.”
“What if it’s not, uh, viable?” Ginnie asked. “What do they do with them? Nobody’s going to, uh, eat it... are they?”
“What, like an omelette?” the doctor asked, laughing, then quickly sobered when he saw Ginnie was serious. “Heaven’s no; that’s illegal. It’s considered cannibalism,” the doctor said, quietly. “Standard hospital policy is cremation.”
Ginnie looked down at the white container she was holding. She knew the egg within wasn’t viable, that nothing was inside it. But somehow she still felt strangely attached to it... and a part of her wished that it had life growing within it.
__________________________________________________
Half an hour later, Ginnie was sitting in the passenger seat of her dad’s SUV, staring out the window as they drove down the road through the mountain passes on their way home to Winter Creek. The pine and fir trees always looked so pretty against the rugged rocky hillsides with the bright blue sky above. The car was unusually silent without any music playing, which suited her just fine. She was feeling inexplicably sad... like something was missing in her life and she didn’t know what. Actually, she knew exactly what was missing: she wanted a child. She sighed.
The young bird saw her father glance at her out of the corner of her eye, opening his beak, then shutting it again with a faint click. She turned her head to look at him, waiting for him to speak.
“I’m sorry, Chiclet... that we accused you of, uh, ‘fooling around’ with boys at school,” Hank said. “Your mother and I don’t know anything about egg-laying. Our families aren’t oviparous. I had no idea that it was possible to lay an egg that wasn’t fertile, so we assumed...”
She blinked, staring at him. “Daddy... What about the un-evolved chicken eggs they sell at the store?”
The older thrush glanced at his daughter for a moment, his beak dropping open, then fixed his eyes firmly on the road once again. “I forgot about that. You’re totally right; those aren’t fertilized at all. We don’t eat eggs, so it’s not something I thought about. I’m so sorry, Chiclet.”
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Ginnie said, turning to look back out the window at the trees. The car was silent for another minute, and she sighed again, air whistling faintly through her nares.
“What’s eating you, Chiclet?”
Ginnie turned back, opened her beak for a second, then thought whether or not it was something she should share. Still... she trusted her father to keep a secret. More than her mother, anyway. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
Hank glanced over at her for a second. “If it’s not illegal... then yes, I promise.”
She took a deep breath. “I... I’m really sad, now. It’s tearing me up inside, knowing that I could have had a chick of my own.” Ginnie looked up at her father. “Daddy, I want a baby.”
Her father looked over at her, the crest of red feathers atop his head and neck stood up straight, touching the roof of the car. The look of panic in his eyes was funny enough to break her bad mood, and she laughed.
__________________________________________________
David shut the door to the garage and locked it before heading past the exercise machines and up the stairs. When he reached the great room, he realized his wife was up on a ladder next to the front windows, squeegeeing some sort of film onto them... and their full-contact body armor from the dojo had been dumped in piles on the floor. “Uh... Why’s our armor on the floor? And what are you putting on the windows?”
“Reflective film,” Raenne said, ignoring his first question. “To make sure nobody can see in.”
“Is that an issue?” the white tiger asked, wondering why. They lived near the very end of the street they were on and nobody drove up this way except for them. There was a giant orange and white barricade with a sign that said ‘END OF ROAD’ literally a hundred feet from their house.
“It is now,” his wife answered. “Henry’s wife, Isabel, called. The police didn’t find Ivan at the warehouse, and Henry says he knows where we live.”
“Oh shit,” he whispered, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end. That explained why their armor was here instead of in the dojo. He’d never forget the horror stories Raenne had told about her older brother from that one ‘group therapy’ session.
“Exactly,” Raenne said, finishing the film coating on the window she was working on. “I want you to start carrying my Glock. I’ll loosen the straps on my shoulder holster. It should fit you-”
“Wait, wait... Raenne, I don’t know how to use a gun,” David interrupted. His wife stared down at him from the ladder, silent. He had no idea what she was thinking, so he continued. “I mean, I get the general concept: point the barrel at the target, pull the trigger. But... I’ve never used one.”
“I could swear you had,” the tigress said incredulously, climbing down the ladder. “You knew everything about every single gun I’ve purchased except the new ones. Manufacturer, ammunition, range...”
He dropped his messenger bag to the floor and raised his hands in exasperation. “Shit, Raenne. That’s from playing Arma, Call of Duty, Battlefield... some of the games I used to play. I’ve never shot a gun in my life!”
“Goddamnit, gamer boy,” Raenne said, huffing irritably as she strode across the room towards him. “You could have at least told me. I’ve been taking Alex out shooting twice a week since summer started. We could have all gone on the weekends!” she said, poking him in the chest.
“Sorry?” David said, unsure why he was apologizing. That idea that Raenne was taking Alex out shooting sent a shiver up his spine; he wished she’d at least told him. “But even if I had told you... Raenne, I’m afraid of guns.”
The tigress tilted her head, looking at him, clearly in disbelief.
“I’m serious. The only reason I’m okay with you having them in the house is that they’re always locked up,” he said. “And I don’t like that you’re taking Alex out shooting.”
“But... why?”
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I used to have an older brother. Stephen was eight.” David closed his eyes. Nearly thirty years and it still made him choke up. “He was playing at a friends’ house. The boy’s father had left his revolver out... just sitting out on the nightstand. Loaded.” He went silent, then raised a paw to wipe at his face. He sniffed and blinked a few times, trying to clear his eyes. Raenne was staring at him with a curious expression. “What?”
Raenne sighed at that, then wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Not what he’d been expecting, but certainly not objectionable. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he murmured, returning the hug. “What do you want me to do?”
It was a few seconds before his wife spoke. “Just don’t go anywhere alone. Oh, and check our security cameras. Make sure they’re set to warn us of intruders anywhere on the property, either here or at the dojo.”
“Okay. I can do that,” he replied. “Want some help putting up the film?”
Raenne nuzzled his chest. “Yes, please. I’d have asked Alex but I’d rather shi watch the twins. After we’re done with the windows, we’ll have a quick dinner and head to the dojo.”
“What about the body armor?” he asked, looking over her head at the piles of gear around the living room.
“I panicked after Isabel told me about Ivan, and took it home with me. I wasn’t thinking; you can’t just go around wearing body armor all the time,” Raenne explained. “I, uh, I’ll head into town tomorrow and see if I can find some place that sells plain-clothes vests that you can wear under your shirt at work.”
“Okay, love,” he said, kissing the top of her head.
__________________________________________________
Ravi bent and turned the shower handle until the flow of water stopped. The white tiger carefully ran his paws over his head and down his arms to wring the excess water out of his fur, then did the same for his chest, legs, and tail. A moment later he moved the shower curtain out of the way and stepped out onto the fluffy bath mat. The mirror across from him was completely fogged over. He ignored it; it would be clear by the time he got out of the dryer.
The fur drying unit next to the shower wasn’t as fancy as the one Alex had in hir bathroom, but it got the job done. Ravi pulled the glass door open and stepped inside, then slapped the switch to start it. As the fans spun up, the tiger pressed his fingerpads against the inside of his ears. After two minutes passed, the dryer turned off and he pressed the button again, knowing from experience that it would take a second cycle to fully dry his undercoat.
When it shut off the second time, he stepped out and grabbed his brush off the counter and got to work straightening his coat, then brushed his teeth, put on the t-shirt and shorts that he used for pajamas, and finally turned off the fan and lights before stepping out into the hallway. His parents’ bedroom door was closed and his sister’s light was off. That was expected; it had been almost ten when he got into the shower, and it was probably close to ten-thirty now. Mom and Dad both had work tomorrow.
The tiger padded into his bedroom and closed the door, then flopped onto his bed and picked up the romance novel he’d been reading. It was his secret guilty pleasure. Well, not-so-secret anymore, thanks to his sister. He sighed. At least Alex didn’t seem to care that he read romances.
Two minutes later, Ravi was turning the page when he heard a soft scratching at his door. He frowned, then stuck his bookmark in the book and set it on his nightstand before rolling off the bed. When he opened his door, his younger sister was standing at the door in her long-sleeve silk pajamas. He blinked, wondering what she wanted.
“Can I come in?” Aruna whispered.
“Uh, sure,” he muttered, opening the door further and stepping back to let his sister in. “What’s up? Can’t sleep?”
Aruna didn’t answer, turning to close his door first, turning the knob so as not to make any noise. Then she turned back to face him. “I was laying in bed and I couldn’t sleep. Then I remembered that I never said ‘thank you’ last week.”
“What for?” Ravi asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“For being nice to me last week. Even when I was being mean and grumpy,” she said, walking up to him and giving him a hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, wrapping his arms around the smaller tigress. “Alex told me to be nice to you, but shi wouldn’t say why.”
Aruna let out a sigh. “It’s just girl stuff. It’s gonna happen every month. So Mom says I’ve just gotta get used to it.”
Ravi rubbed his paw up and down her back. “I’m sorry, sis. If I can do anything for you, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” she said, nuzzling his chest. “You’re the best big brother ever.”
Ravi felt a surge of pride at that. “You’re welcome.”
