Crossbred Son
Crossbred Son
Xxan War Book Two
Brenna Lyons
Published by Phaze Books
By Brenna Lyons
Animal Instincts
Bearing Armen
Bride Ball
Black Sail
Night Warriors
Conquest
Will of the Stone
Enslaved
We Shall Live Again
The Lady’s Lowborn Lover
Fates Magic
Veriel’s Tales: Crossbearer Turned
Veriel’s Tales: Losing Regina
Daughters of Men: Prize Match
Nevermore
May the Best Man Win
In Her Ladyship’s Service
Raised To Be His Own
Magmon’s Hunger
Last Chase for Love
Mama’s Tales
Matchmaker’s Misery
Sons of Heaven: Beldon
Time Currents
Rites of Mating
Marked
The Color of Love
Binary Stars 8
The Last of Fion’s Daughters
Hunter’s Moon
Poison, Lies, and No-Win Choices
The Master’s Love
Dream Walk
This is an explicit and erotic novel
intended for the enjoyment
of adult readers. Please keep
out of the hands of children.
www.Phaze.com
Crossbred Son
Copyright © 2013 by Brenna Lyons
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Edited by Kathryn Lively
Cover Art © 2013 by Fiona Jayde
First Edition July 2013
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-754-5
Published by:
Phaze Books
An imprint of Celeritas Unlimited LLC
6457 Glenway Ave., #109
Cincinnati, OH 45211
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Prologue
“You can’t be serious,” Abby Jacobs croaked out.
Doctor Heston sighed. “Would I joke about something like this?”
Pregnant. I’m pregnant. “But you said...All the specialists said I couldn’t have a child.” I didn’t use protection, because they said it was impossible.
His expression was grim. “It’s nearly impossible, Abby. You still won’t carry to term. I have to be realistic here. Chances are, you’ll miscarry early, but you will miscarry.”
The fledgling spark of excitement she hadn’t even acknowledged yet extinguished.
“If you don’t want to put yourself through this...If you can’t face losing the baby later—”
“No. Are you crazy?” This was probably the only chance she’d have to have a child. Abby was going to follow it through, no matter the outcome.
“I’ll set you up with Jules Bashaw. She’s the best high-risk obstetrician in the area.”
Her cheeks heated. “That would be good, but she’s going to have to consult on this one.”
Heston’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would she have to consult? Are there other complications I don’t know about?”
“Maybe.”
He waited patiently for an answer.
“The father is Xxan...well, a Xxanian mix anyway. I think, all things considered, maybe SLAL should be consulted.”
He straightened and took a step back. His gaze flicked to her abdomen and away, and his color faded a few shades.
Great. He’s a bigot.
“I see. I’ll make sure Jules knows it. I don’t think she’s ever handled a Xxanian birth before.”
And I’ll make sure she’s not a bigot as well. “Thank you, Doctor Heston.” And goodbye.
“I’ll let Jules handle any prenatal vitamins. I don’t know what will be safe for you...considering.”
Abby exited as quickly as possible, the card for Doctor Bashaw in hand.
She’d only been home for a few minutes when her mobile phone rang. The caller ID announced an amorphous “Medical.” Which means it’s probably Doctor Bashaw. She flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Miz Jacobs? This is Doctor Stephen Rayn from SLAL. Doctor Bashaw contacted me. I understand you are carrying a Xxanian mix young w...uh...baby.”
Well, that was quick. “Yes. I am.”
“We would like to bring you in for preliminary testing as soon as possible. Would you be available to take a shuttle to us this afternoon?”
There was a note of urgency in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. “I suppose so. Where would I get the shuttle?”
“We can have a shuttle meet you at any of the hospitals or at the airport,” he offered.
“Mercy?”
“Fine. Can you be there at two o’clock?”
“Yes.” Her head was spinning at the speed of events. Abby resolved to lay down now, before she managed to collapse into sleep again.
“The front desk will have someone take you to the pad.”
Abby nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Okay. Thanks.” Her mouth went dry, and the feeling that she’d lost control of her life assaulted her.
“Miz Jacobs?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded strange in her own ears.
“Who is the seir...the father of your baby?”
“This is confidential, right?” He can’t tell Gabe. Chances are, I’m going to lose the baby, anyway.
There was a moment of silence. “I don’t understand.”
“If Doctor Bashaw gave you a full update, you know there’s almost no chance I’ll carry to term...or even to a viable—”
“I’m going to do my best to make sure you do.” There was a haughty undertone to that answer.
“I believe that, but you’ll probably fail. I can’t let you tell him, just to leave him hurt when I lose the baby.” This was why I left him in the first place. I can’t give him children.
“And if the baby doesn’t miscarry? If he or she is born alive?”
<
br /> “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Abby couldn’t think about that now. If the baby lived, how could she ever explain to Gabe why she’d kept it a secret from him?
“Yes,” he grumbled. “It’s confidential. Now...who is the father?”
“Gabe Zhaahvan.”
“Thank you. That helps us plan for your care.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for helping.”
“Keeping Xxan-human crossbreds alive is what I do, Miz Jacobs. I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter One
Six months later
The code coming over the comm unit sent chills down Gabe’s back. A woman and child being attacked. A Xxanian would never perpetrate such a heinous act.
Steven Thomas, his partner, confirmed that they were en route. Gabe pressed the accelerator to the floor, and his partner grasped at the door handle reflexively.
“You know I love when you do this, buddy,” Thomas informed him. “But you are going to get us both in deep shit with these antics.”
“I’m Xxan. The chances of me actually wrecking the vehicle are—”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. One in some hundreds of thousands, I’m sure.”
That curved the corner of Gabe’s mouth in a shadow of humor. It disappeared as the call site came into view. He pulled the vehicle to a screeching halt, slammed it into park, and was out the door before the dust cleared.
“Wait for backup,” Thomas yelled after him, scrambling out the far door.
As if. Gabe was in the door and scanning for trouble coming his way before Thomas was around the front of the vehicle.
He didn’t need the waitress motioning frantically toward the corridor with the sign for restrooms posted inside. The sounds of shouts and bangs announced which direction he should take clearly enough.
A baby’s cry tightened down the muscles in his arms. What was wrong with humans that they did such things to the innocent?
Gabe bolted for the fray, cursing under his breath at the two men seated at the counter, looking as if they wanted nothing to do with the scene. Unless the perps had a handgun or other weapon, this was inexcusable.
Even if they do, there is no excuse those men can make to me. It would be better if Thomas took their statements. Gabe might be tempted to do something that would land him on suspension. Or worse.
His mind processed what he was seeing as Gabe barreled into the mob and started dragging them off the abused door. The woman had apparently managed to lock herself and her child in the ladies’ room, and the three attackers were trying to break their way in to do more damage. From the looks of it, she had only minutes of safety before they would accomplish it. Already, there were gaping holes in the thin wood.
One of the men turned and attacked him with a hammer, probably taken from the tool belt at his waist. Gabe knocked the weapon away and took the man down with a punch to the ribs. He turned in time to see a second trying to attack his back with a heavy wrench in hand. The third was already in motion, into the restaurant, where Thomas ordered him to halt.
Too late to knock the weapon away effectively, Gabe captured the man’s wrist in his left hand and grasped his attacker around the throat with his right.
The scent on the man’s hand assaulted him, shocking Gabe to stillness, and he tongue scented in disbelief. Xxanian scent. Not just Xxanian. My own nest.
The young one’s screaming tapered off, and sounds of the female soothing him whispered through the door.
It’s a female and child. That made no sense. His sister was too young to have children. And it’s not Ariel’s scent.
It’s male. His brother Geoff was no more mated than Gabe was. A woman Geoff slept with? The scent was Dominant, but it was...off for Geoff. What in the Seir-God’s name is going on here?
“Gabe!”
Thomas’s shout snapped him back to the present in time to see the attacker’s blood-soaked right fist flying for his face. Gabe threw him against the wall and let him fall. He motioned Thomas to him and then turned toward the door.
“Annandale Police,” he barked, well aware that his ridge plates were extended. “Open the door, please.”
“Gabe,” Thomas cautioned. “Settle down.”
Settle down? With a female and child that smell of my nest behind that door, in an unknown condition? Of course, there was no way for Thomas to know that. And no time to explain it.
He forced his ridge plates back and knocked briskly at the door. “Police. Please, open the door, ma’am.” Gabe didn’t want to have to break the door down, but if she didn’t open it, he would have no choice.
If she is Xxanian or a human female with a Xxanian boyfriend or mate, she may not be willing to emerge for a human officer. He rumbled out a soothing sound in Xxan, encouraging her to let him protect her.
There was a moment of silence. A sob followed. Then the lock clicked open.
Xxan. What is a Xxanian female doing in a café like this one? It’s a given she can’t eat what they serve. Meeting a human friend? Using the restroom to change the baby?
Assess the situation now. Get answers later. Gabe eased the door open, well aware that a Xxanian female protecting a young one might still attack.
The sight behind the door stopped him in his tracks. The female sitting on the floor—blood coursing down her face and matting her dark hair—wasn’t Xxanian, but the young one in her arms—wearing the flexible, strapped sunglasses Xxanians put on their young—clearly was. She wasn’t a stranger, either.
He knelt at her side. “Abby?”
The young one looked up at him, and Gabe tongue-scented to be certain before he spoke.
****
Abby sighed in relief at the sight of Gabe. When she’d heard the Xxanian sound, she’d hoped it was him and not the other Xxanian they had on the force. But either would have been acceptable, in this case. If anyone would keep Michael safe, it would be a Xxanian male.
The Xxan are wired that way. Aren’t they? Protect young, at all costs, even the young of another Xxanian.
“My son,” he breathed.
Before she could respond to that, he was shouting out orders to someone.
“Thomas, get an ambulance here...and get backup.” He pressed at the cut on her forehead hard enough to make Abby’s head spin.
The other officer snorted. “You put them down alone. Why would we need backup now?”
“You’ll need help taking them to the station.”
The human officer appeared over Gabe’s shoulder, a spare set of plastic handcuffs they used when they had more than one prisoner in his hand. “What? Where will you be?”
“Going to the hospital with them.” He tipped his head toward Abby and Michael.
“Gabe, old buddy, I know—”
He motioned to Michael, his ridge plates extending. “This is my son, Thomas. He is not going anywhere without me.”
Thomas paled, and he shot a glance from one side of him to the other. “Backup. Right away.” He retreated a few steps, and the sound of the cuffs announced him restraining one of the men who had attacked her. “Believe me, pal. You move an inch, and he just may have to kill you.”
Abby focused on Gabe with no small amount of difficulty. In the background, Thomas was following Gabe’s orders, calling in an ambulance for her and more officers for the prisoners.
Gabe’s ridge plates were in flux, a sure sign that he was brutally angry and trying to control it. “You should have told me.”
“Not now, please.” There was so much to explain, and her head ached too much to do it coherently.
He met her gaze and nodded. “But soon.” It wasn’t an order.
“Yes.” It was about time she did the adult thing and faced her son’s father.
Michael reached out for Gabe, and the man in question lifted the squirming baby from her arms with one big hand. Gabe’s eye slits narrowed behind his dark glasses, and Abby followed his line of sight. There was blood on Michael’s cheek. Gabe’s muscles tightened down
in preparation to spring.
If I don’t do something, he’s going to kill them all and end up in a lethal injection booth. “It’s not his blood. It’s not mine, either,” she hastened to assure him. Well, of course it’s not Michael’s. Their son had the orange-tinted blood typical of Xxanian mixes, the same type of blood that ran in Gabe’s veins.
Gabe looked at her, his gaze ranging up and down Abby’s body. “Our son bit one of those zhirrakkah?”
She’d only heard Gabe use that term once before, when security had caught a rapist on campus. If she wasn’t so sick to her stomach, Abby would have nodded in agreement to whatever foul term that was in Xxan. “Yes. The bastard grabbed for Michael, and I turned. He got a handful of my shirt instead, and Michael bit him. That’s how we got this far.”
Abby suspected her fear had set Michael off. The Xxan were scent oriented, and biting when she was frightened would likely be instinctual for Michael.
A smile pulled up at Gabe’s lips, and he winked at their son. “Good boy. Always protect the females.”
Michael looked at his father, his expression solemn. Then he started chewing on his fist.
Teething. Though Michael’s hunting teeth had come in quickly, his human front teeth were taking their sweet time about it. They aren’t sharp.
Thomas interrupted any questions Gabe might have had. “A few minutes, ma’am.”
Abby let her eyes slide shut, too tired to respond to that.
****
Gabe had never felt more out of place in his life. Here he was, sitting in a hospital waiting room, feeding his son—a son he knew nothing about—a bottle of expressed milk.
She must have stopped breastfeeding when Michael started getting teeth. Gabe prayed Abby didn’t have scars from his son’s hunting teeth. He’d heard it had happened to a few of the early human mates.
The young one dozed, sucking sporadically, his little fingers twitching in response to his dreams. His age was difficult to gauge. Gabe hadn’t been around a lot of babies, crossbred or otherwise, so he wasn’t certain how to tell. From what he’d seen, Michael had sprouted teeth, but he wasn’t able to do more than pull himself along the floor, certainly not a full crawl.