Page 36 of My Orc Billionaire
Half his face was painted blue, and as I held him at arms’ length, I could see he was wearing some sort of…kilt? Did toddlers wear kilts?
Tova kicked the door shut behind me. “Good catch. I accidentally gave him four of my Pixie Stix from the school party, and now he’s a little hyper.”
“Accidentally?” I muttered, turning the little body this way and that to try to figure out his costume. Was this the human tradition of trick-or-treating I’d heard about? “What is he supposed to be?”
“He’ssupposedto be eating his supper,” came a new voice, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the kitling’s mother, Hannah, appeared from the kitchen. “Thank you for wrangling him.” When she took Joshy from me, the boy seemed much larger in her arms, and she struggled to contain him. She smiled at me in exasperation. “He’s William Wallace, andno, I don’t know why. Ben is going through a history phase, and I suppose Joshy has been paying attention. Thank God he doesn’t have a sword.”
I glanced down at Tova, who was wearing a sparkly purple tutu and something pointy on her head while she grinned expectantly at me. Was I expected to continue this conversation? “And you are…a princess?” Wasn’t that something little human girls wanted to be?
But she giggled and spun in a circle. “No, silly! I’m a unicorn! Emmy is going to be apinkunicorn, and we’re going to skip down Main Street together!”
“That, or they’ll engage in epic battles with their horns.” My brother’s Mate tipped her head toward the back door. “Aswan is taking the meat out of the smoker. You’re both welcome to hide out on the back porch and eat until I wrangle these three into submission.”
“Fweeeedom!” screamed a kicking Joshy, and I nodded gratefully as I made my escape.
The back patio smelled fucking majestic, as a nodding Aswan coached his eldest kitling, eleven-year-old Ben, into easing a large haunch from the smoker.
“Good, good,” he was saying. “Place it gently on the table. You don’t want to jostle the juices.”
The boy snorted softly but kept his attention on the meat. “That sounds like something I might make a joke about, if I were older.”
My brother hummed. “And if you were older, I might laugh at that joke. Careful now.”
I might’ve been impressed by how well my twin had acclimated to fatherhood. I might’ve noted how he clapped his son’s shoulder proudly, or how the boy seemed to stand taller with pride from Aswan’s praise.
But I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Ben’s outfit.
“Is that another kilt?” I asked.
“Ah, you remember my brother,” Aswan announced with a smirk, gesturing toward me. “Subtle and polite, as always.”
I bristled, and to my surprise, felt the need to defend my words. Or rather…apologize? I was going to apologize to a human child for making him feel?—
“It’s a loincloth,” Ben announced proudly, stretching his arms out and turning about so I could get the full effect of his gold-and-linen costume. “I mean, not arealone, that’s why I’m wearing shorts under it. But I designed it myself, and Aswan helped me glue all the gold beads to the chest plate, and just wait until you see thecrown.”
I met Aswan’s amused gaze. Clearly his son wasn’t at all offended by my question.
“You are…” I frowned at the boy, trying to remember the documentaries I’d seen in the last decade. “One of the Pharaohs from your ancient Egypt. Tutankhamun?”
“Close!” Ben bounced on his heels in excitement. “Akhenaten! He was the pharaoh who founded monotheism—he said Aten was the only true god—and changed a bunch of stuff. He was Tutankhamun’s dad!”
Impressed despite myself, I found my feet moving me closer to nod in approval. “I can see it’s well-researched.”
“Ben’s current obsession is ancient Egypt,” Aswan murmured, handing me a beer without asking. “I usually just smile and nod along.”
“Youwere the one to get me into it, Dad! I wanted to know what Aswan was.” The boy rounded on me. “I researched all his brothers. Did you know Abydos is likethemost important burial site in Upper Egypt? It’s where all the early pharaohs were buried. It’s called the City of the Dead.”
I took a swig of beer, hoping Ben would move on. But when I lowered the bottle, he was still gazing up at me expectantly, so I muttered, “Seemed fitting at the time.”
Ithadbeen. When the scientists had given us new names, choosing ancient Egyptian archaeological sites as inspiration, I’d taken fierce pride in the name they’d chosen for me, seeing it as proof I’d returned from the dead.
But my twin muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like a curse, and I wondered if maybe that had been the wrong answer.
Aswan reached into the smoker and pulled out a smaller platter. He handed it to his son. “Here are the hot dogs for you and your brother and sister. Take them inside, plate them—the buns are in the bread drawer—and give everyone a serving of fruit. There are some cut-up apples in the fridge. Donotmake your mother feed you tonight, she’s got enough to juggle.”
Ben nodded seriously and turned toward the house. In an effort to make up for my earlier glib comment that might have been hurtful, I hurried to hold the door for him.
“Thanks, Abydos,” he said with a grin as he passed through. “Enjoy your meaty juices.”
