Page 92 of Feral King

“It’s too many snaps. Trust me—too many snaps is the last thing you want to deal with when you’ve got a screaming baby at 1 a.m. And then there’s the matter of the pattern.”

“The pattern?” Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow.

“It’s just a little much. Lots of ducks.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “Ethan Kang has opinions on ducks. That’s going in my mental database. And maybe my journal.”

“You don’t keep a journal.”

“I’m starting one. And my first entry is going to be about how my security escort has strong opinions on children’s clothing with waterfowl designs.”

He chuckles.

The maternity store is a small boutique on Madison Avenue called Little Sprout. It’s the kind of half-granola, half-bougie place where everything is organic cotton and in muted earth tones, with price tags that make you want to overthrow capitalism personally.

I’m not buying much—it’s too early for that. I’m not even showing yet. But Dr. Reeves had mentioned prenatal vitamins and comfortable basics. When I mentioned that to Julian this morning, he’d responded by handing me a credit card made of solid metal and saying, “Whatever you need.” The look on his face suggested that arguing about it would be more exhausting than just accepting.

So, here I am, shopping for the first tangible evidence of a future that I still can’t wrap my head around, with a large man who’d take a bullet for me—and has—carrying a shopping basket with tiny little things inside. He’d insisted.

“Okay, out of the clothes section. It’s getting me choked up,” I say, nodding toward the vitamins. “That’s where I need to be.”

“Lead the way.”

We head over, and I make a beeline for the prenatal vitamins, picking up two packs and comparing dosages.

“How long have you known Julian?” I ask. The question just sort of tumbles out but in a natural way. I go with it.

Ethan gives me a slightly odd expression, as if surprised that I asked him a personal question.

“What?” I reply to his look. “Are you surprised that I want to know a little more about the guy attached to my hip for the indefinite future?”

He chuckles. “It’s more like fielding personal questions is quite the change of pace from working with Julian. We’re friends, but it’s a different kind of friendship.”

I grin. “Well, consider me a more personable client.”

He crosses his arms, wincing just a bit from the shoulder injury, then leans against a nearby wall.

“Fair enough. Anyway, I’ve known Julian for twelve years. I met him in Moscow. I was freelancing in security, and the first job he hired me for happened to go all kinds of sideways. I handled the situation.”

I set down the pre-natal vitamins, turning my attention to small packets of baby snacks with little anime-style pandas on them. Everything in here is just so damn cute.

“Handled. I’ve been in this world long enough to know what that word is a euphemism for.”

“Then I won’t go into detail,” he replies. “Anyway, he liked my work and hired me full-time the next morning.”

“Wow. Just like that?”

“Just like that. Julian doesn’t deliberate about people. He either trusts you or he doesn’t. There’s no in between.” Ethan turns his attention to the display of pre-natal vitamins. “The one with folate and higher dosage is best to start taking ASAP.”

I grab the ones he’s talking about, give him a look, and toss them into the basket.

“Not trying to pry, but you seem to know quite a bit about the topic of pregnant women and babies.”

“I do. I have some experience.”

“You’re a dad?”

“Uncle. My younger sister has two daughters. She lost her husband shortly after the second one in a car accident.”