Page 87 of Where the Current Takes Him
Jaime tapped the apex of Beau’s belly with one finger. “Dads of any species go crazy at first. The protective instinct knocks them right on their ass.”
Beau sighed. “I guess that’s kind of sweet.”
“Trust me. You’ll be a lot less annoyed when you see him cradling that tiny baby.” Jaime heaved a stack of bright orange and red plates into his arms.
“Need help?”
Jaime’s skeptical eye roved across Beau and his imbalanced frame. “You can carry the napkins.”
When the table was set, Vuos raised his voice.“Nuaiash, terrad’uix imin idaso!”
“Babies, come eat dinner?” Beau guessed.
Jaime whistled. “You’re getting the hang of it quick.”
Beau’s heart warmed at the praise, though it may have just been heartburn.
He’d been attending regular Loaish classes and was very pleased to discover that he could understand simple conversations while eavesdropping. Loriun had yet to master the art of gossip and rarely paid attention to what others were saying around him. Beau had vowed to one day break him.
“But isn’t there a word for kids?” Beau asked as Eret, the youngest, entered the room.
“Yes,” Vuos replied, reaching out to tousle his son’s curly black hair. “It isainuo. But the older ones get irritated when I call them‘nuaiash’and it amuses me.”
Jaime shot his mate a look of exasperation. “Eret, did you finish your homework?” he asked his youngest.
“Almost,” Eret said. He was ten, and had just begun fifth grade at the local school. He looked the most human of thesiblings, though little speckles of salt and pepper scales dotted his face and body. “I needReio’shelp with math.”
“Why not me?” Jaime teased.
Eret stared back at hisjaeiwith wide, sea green eyes. “You suck at math, Dad.”
Jaime clapped a hand to his chest, an exaggerated expression of pain on his face. “Suckat math? Me? Never.”
“Last time I let Dad help me with math, I failed my test.” Duion, the second oldest, took up a seat next to his little brother. He looked like hisreio, with coal black fins and a powerful build. At seventeen, he was nearly fully grown, and had a light dusting of stubble along his jaw. At his temples, charcoal gray scales glinted in the artificial light.
“You didn’tfail,” Jaime argued. “It was a fifty five percent!”
“Dad, that is a failing grade.” Duion shook his head and reached for a taco.
Vuos craned his neck to peer around the corner.“Kere, yeirix!”
“Yai terradnei!”a voice snapped back.
Vuos winced. “If you have a girl, be prepared for her teens.”
The fifteen-year-old Omega swept into the room looking sulky.
“Hey, Kere,” Beau said, trying not to sound nervous. Which he was.
“Hey, Beau,” she mumbled, plopping into the chair next to him. Though she wore a human sundress, her tail waved from beneath the hem. Her scales were a beautiful shade of sage green and her fins a deep, titanium silver. Her face could pass for any human girl, if they didn’t look too closely at the fins that curled around the edges of each ear. Like her brothers, she sported curly black hair, cut into a pixie style.
She gave his enormous belly a sidelong glance. “You look like you’re going to pop.”
“Kere.”Jaime looked mortified.
“No, it’s fine, she’s right.” Beau laughed, rubbing a hand along the protrusion. “Ifeellike I’m going to pop.”
Duion was already three tacos deep, and the rest of the table hurried to follow suit.
