Page 132 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“I’m glad to be home,” she said. “And Lilya isbeautiful.”
“Isn’t she?” he agreed. “But I hear you’re adding a son to our household. Come to Uncle Michael, little man!”
Tsumiko held her breath while the reaver made a quick but careful inspection. Sansa beckoned to her, and Gingko reclaimed Lilya so Tsumiko could go to her side.
“I’m home,” Tsumiko murmured shyly.
“And most welcome. You were missed, but you were where you were needed.” Sansa took her hand. “Argent told us how you rescued this new one.”
Did she mean new life or new breed? Tsumiko supposed Kyrie embodied both. Still watching Michael’s explorations, she said, “His mother didn’t want him to suffer as she did. So we’ll give him a home.”
“You are his mama now.”
“Yes. He’s mine.” Tsumiko added, “But I’ll need help.”
A soft growl issued from Argent’s direction, and Michael set aside his curiosity to announce, “Lilya will have a playmate.Anda rival for Gingko’s affection.”
“I’ve got two arms,” grumbled the gardener.
Michael brought Kyrie to his wife. “Well, my dear, let’s see if he’ll take to you.”
Sansa took the baby, her lips curving into a wondering smile. Flipping her heavy braid over her shoulder, she unabashedly bared her breast and coaxed Kyrie to suckle. She laughed at his enthusiasm. “All is as it should be. He understands what he needs.”
“Love,” said Tsumiko. “And a place to belong.”
“This is true.” Sansa caressed his silky hair. “He shall know warmth and comfort and the pleasure of a full belly.”
While Kyrie ate, Tsumiko noticed that the tone of Argent’s growl had shifted from annoyance to approval. And Gingko was watching him. Covertly. And with traces of confusion. Was he remembering something from his own childhood? Or had Argent changed noticeably during their month abroad? They would need to catch up.
But before she could frame the idea into words, Argent’s attitude changed again. A low huff and the jerk of his chin toward the door. Then he walked out. Deece meekly followed.
“What …?” asked Tsumiko.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about those two.” Michael took Kyrie to his shoulder, patting firmly. The baby burped wetly, then uttered a squeaky growl. Michael laughed. “They’re simply going through … well, let’s call them necessary formalities.”
Tsumiko looked to Sansa for a translation. “Which means …?”
The battler chuckled. “It means they are males.”
. . .
Argent was not sure how to handle the latest addition to the household. Not Lilya or Kyrie, of course. Their welcome was assured. But the feline factor needed immediate clarification. Stopping in the empty stretch of winter-whitened lawn above the cliffs, Argent stopped to face his silent shadow. “Cat got your tongue?” he inquired snidely.
“Sir?”
Argent bluntly asked, “Are you Twineshaft’s spy?”
“I am not.” Stepping forward the feline offered his palms. “My name is Deece Evernhold.”
In no mood for formalities, Argent opted for some good old-fashioned posturing. Power surged, and the warrior boy was on his back in the snow, pinned under the weight of one silver paw. To his credit, Deece remained passive—arms outspread, gaze lowered, throat bared.
He was a little breathless under the pressure Argent was applying, but Deece managed a deferential tone. “Hisoka Twineshaft is my mother’s brother. That is no secret.”
Not good enough. Argent returned to his speaking form, but he didn’t give up his show of dominance. Straddling the bulkier clansman’s chest, he pointed out, “You are armed.”
“I am the Evernhold tribute, given to Sansa to be trained as a battler.”
Argent smelled no lie. “And Michael?”
