229 Lyre: Kids

    229 Lyre: Kids

    [LYRE: Owen’s already nning to take them in. You can’t deprive the kids of their siblings, can you?]

    Owen sneezes, and the boy jerks his head toward the movement, eyes wide with

    animal terror.

    But unlike Grace, I don’t have “mom” instincts. So this is temporary.

    [GRACE: Well, we can’t just leave them alone.]

    1

    [LYRE: They’re cute, sweet, possibly potty trained, and don’t you think Bun needs someone to y with?]

    [GRACE: Define “want“, b“/bsome more“, and “kids“.]

    I sigh and add another text:

    My phone vibrates with another text.

    More, actually… but they were already bodies before we got to them. 2

    The children flinch when he kneels by the bed. The boy’s rocking turns frantic, a sour

    smell filling the room.

    I nod. “Any luck with those portable IVs?”

    It’s sanctioned now; amazing what a few phone calls to the right people can do.

    Aaron rubs the back of his neck. “I’m heading to the store for some stuff. We haven’t found any clothes for the kids yet, and we’re out of towels again.”

    “Soft toys. Maybe some fuzzy nkets.” The girl seems to like theforter.

    “Lyre?” Aaron prompts.

    Owen moves with efficient calm, setting the tray on the nightstand before backing away a few careful steps.

    [GRACE:b… /bthey aren’t objects, Lyre…]

    b[/bbLYRE/b: They’re breally /bquiet and don’t take up much space.]

    229 Lyre: Kids

    Grace doesn’t need more responsibility, but these hollow–eyed children need her specific brand of fierce protection. They need her pack of misfit shifters.

    “It’s just a little food,” he says, his voice abnormally soft. Even so, he still sounds like he’s threatening to murder them.

    [LYRE: Two.]

    Fuck. This is why I don’t do heroics.

    “Got it. Bottled water, towels, baby form, electrolytes, and clean the shelves of all their meds and vitamins. Anything else?”

    The girl clutches a handful offorter like it might disappear. The boy stares at nothing, rocking. Both look about three or four, though it’s hard to tell with the malnutrition. Hell, they could be twins for all we know.

    “The porridge will get cold,” the angel–descendant says mildly. “Just thought you should know. I’ll be right here if you need help.”

    “I’ll stay over here,” Owen continues, settling against the far wall. “No one’s going to make you eat.”

    [LYRE: Found two kids in Fiddleback tunnels. Survived somehow. They’re alive, but barely.]

    I shift position, and both children startle like I’ve fired a gun. The girl presses herself harder against the headboard. The boy’s rocking intensifies.

    There are few things more heartbreaking than the sound of a child’s desperate sobs, even for a heart as jaded as mine.

    [LYRE: I’ll figure out how to ship them.]

    I squint, and he mouths it again,

    I nce up from my phone to the two tiny creatures huddled on the bed, pressed against the headboard. Their gaunt faces are contorted as they sob, but no tears fill their reddened eyes. It’s not that they’re faking–their bodies simply don’t have enough moisture left to waste on crying.

    The girl inches closer to the tray, reaching a trembling, near–skeletal hand toward one of the bowls, barely visible in my periphery.

    18:21

    229 Lyre: Kids

    [GRACE: … how far away are you?]

    I frown down at my screen; porridge isn’t enough for these little ones. We need form, something fortified with all the things they need.

    The door creaks open and Owen edges in, bncing a tray with two small bowls of porridge. His broad shoulders seem to fill the entire doorframe, but he moves with careful precision, as if he’s carrying something precious.

    [LYRE: You know what I mean.]

    Which is why my fingers are flying across my phone’s keyboard with unnatural speed, responding to Grace’s text with the most bullshit sweet talk I’ve ever mustered in my long, long life.

    “They need form, too,” Owen says from his position against the wall. “And Pediasure for electrolytes.”

    Yeah, I get it.

    My lips curve. As expected of a woman with her fate.

    [GRACE: They aren’t things, Lyre…]

    I nce up from my screen to see the girl inching toward the food. She freezes when she notices me watching, so I deliberately look back at my phone.

    [GRACE:… can you just exin like a normal person for once?]

    A knock at the door makes both children jump. The girl’s hand retreats, and she’s back against the headboard in an eyeblink. I bite back a curse, but Owen just nces at the door without even a blink to show his irritation.

    And she probably needs the distraction, or she’ll end up barefoot and pregnant in Lycan territory before she knows what’s happened to her.

    But the moment I saw them, another little body shed in my memory, and… well, now they’re in the room I’ve imed as mine,

    Huh. I wonder how he coaxed the other children into trusting him. I wouldn’t, and I’ve been an adult for too many lifetimes.

    “They’ll be back in half an hour, hour tops. Then we can get these kiddos on some

    18:21

    229 Lyre: Kids

    fluids. Ambnce is already at the hospital, and they’ve got a few more volunteers

    The children don’t even look at him, trying to shrink further into their corner of safety. Not even his angelic presence has gotten them to open up.

    My eyebrow twitches. If they don’t eat, I’ll happily be the bad guy and force feed them. Even if they don’t trust us, they need something in their bellies. They’re starving and dehydrated, and they’ll die if they don’t eat.

    [GRACE: How many children?]

    The girl’s lost all her courage, no longer attempting to get close to the food. I sigh, but Owen shakes his head at me, mouthing something.

    [LYRE: Want some more kids?]

    The kids have already been checked over, but we’re out of supplies and waiting for more. Aaron more or less kidnapped a few doctors from the local hospital and an ambnce, but now we need to go back and raid their supply closets.

    “Made it thin,” he says quietly, even though I didn’t ask. “It’s what they need for now. Too much at once will make them sick.”

    “Get bottled water, too. Not enough cups to go around,” I add, ignoring his question. He’ll figure it out if he thinks it through, I’m sure.

    But I suppose informing children of your intent to feed them, even against their will, is probably not going to endear them to you very much.

    Thest couple days have been a parade of horrors. Nothing I haven’t seen before, but it hits hard every time. In the end, our hunt has turned into a rescue mission, our prey likely long gone. No matter; I’m sure we can pick up their trail againter.

    “Come in,” he says calmly.

    [GRACE: She has siblings.b] /b

    [LYRE: Great! Having a secure family unit will help them limate to their new lives. We’ll invest in a 12–passenger van.]

    Sweet, predictable Grace. Always so ready to help, even with four magical children already in her care.

    18:21

    229 Lyre: Kids

    Aaron–Jack–Eye to everyone else–pushes the door open with his shoulder. His red hair is pulled back in its usual leather tie, but there are dark circles under his eyes. Even his upbeat, overly charming disposition has been darkened and shadowed by the events of thest few days.

    Strangely, they don’t flinch, and the boy even stops rocking. Food bribes work, even if you sound like a killer, I guess.

    LYRE

    “Everyone’s settled for now,” he says. “At least, as settled as they can be. We’ve got people in six houses, all with clothes from the closets. Most are fed.” His eyes drift to the untouched bowls. “Doctors say they’re about halfway through triage, but some people need more care than they can give here.”

    Turns out Isabeau’s operation went deeper than even I’d expected. This undergroundplex stretches for miles beneath Fiddleback territory, a truebyrinth hiding the monstrosities behind the pack’s existence.

    “Good.”

    iPatience/ii. /i

    The red–haired Lycan blinks. “They’re a bit big for bottles, aren’t they?”