Nevermore (Crossbreed Series Book 6)

Shepherd put the finishing touches on Hunter’s bedroom, his forearm still sore from the liquid fire sealing his tattoo. He should have gone to bed already, but he couldn’t wait to complete the setup. The furniture store had delivered Hunter’s bed early that morning, and seeing it set up somehow made it official. Shepherd was so moved that shortly afterward, he did the only thing that made sense: he got a tattoo.

After separating from Christian, Shepherd had made a trip to a number of different stores. Spent the whole damn afternoon shopping for Hunter. He waited until dinnertime before he moved it all in and assembled the furniture. He even ordered pizza to keep the team preoccupied so he could put together a bookshelf in peace.

Hunter’s new bedroom was situated in the middle of the house in the same hall as Shepherd’s. While they were only a few doors apart, Hunter had the far room at the very end that overlooked the courtyard. It wasn’t right to shut him up in a dingy room without sunlight, so Shepherd had chosen a room with lofty windows. Every kid needed to have access to the moon and the stars.

The window didn’t open, another reason Shepherd had picked that room. He didn’t want the boy sneaking out in the middle of the night, especially with the swimming pool not gated off.

Man, all the dangers surrounding them in their own home. Shepherd was receiving a crash course in parental fears in the span of a few weeks. He didn’t want to be overbearing or intrusive, but he also didn’t want to be irresponsible.

After picking up a lit candle, he stood in the doorway and admired the room. The large window opposite the door caught his reflection in the glass. Shepherd didn’t want anything about this room to remind Hunter of Patrick’s house, so he’d put the bed on the right side instead of the left. Since they didn’t have electricity running in this hall, Shepherd had bought one of those rechargeable lanterns to put on the nightstand.

In fact, he’d purchased several battery-operated lights for the room. Stuff kids would like. The long table on the left provided Hunter a surface where he could race toy cars or paint. The plastic scoop chair with metal legs was a little short for the table, but most kids didn’t sit still for long and liked to bounce around.

Shepherd had put the bookshelf to the right of the windows, mounting it to the wall with brackets so it wouldn’t tip over. It had only taken thirty minutes to assemble. Claude’s offer to buy a few books had snowballed into a giant box with enough books to fill the shelves. But it was a nice reading spot, especially with the round blue rug in front of it. And on the off chance the kid wanted someone to read to him, Shepherd had bought a blue swivel chair to put near the bed.

And it didn’t stop there. He couldn’t have the kid sleeping on a bare mattress, so he bought sheets and blankets with cartoons and other images on them. Shepherd stared at the blanket decorated with stars and moons. Hopefully it wasn’t too infantile. He’d hit every corner of the department store, but when he wandered into the toy section, he stopped. Shepherd didn’t know anything about what Hunter liked, so it didn’t seem right to pick out his life. There was still an air of uncertainty as to whether or not this situation would work out, so maybe it was best to slow down.

On a sigh, Shepherd did a final walk-through and switched on some colorful twinkle lights that he’d strung around the windows. A fleeting moment passed where he imagined Maggie in the room with him. It wasn’t fair that she’d never gotten to see her baby, to hold him, to sing to him, and to kiss him good night. All Maggie had ever talked about was how she wanted to see what kind of a person their child would become.

Shepherd hung his head. He didn’t deserve this opportunity. Maggie should have been the one buying Hunter’s bed and picking out his toys.

He wiped away a rogue tear with his palm and headed down the hall toward Kira’s room. It was time for Hunter to have his own space instead of sleeping at the foot of someone’s bed like a found puppy.

Shepherd lightly knocked on the door so as not to startle her awake.

After a few moments, she answered. Her unkempt tresses framed her heart-shaped face, and it was the first time since her arrival that he’d seen it loose and unbound. Seeing her that way was oddly intimate and felt like an invasion of privacy. She worked her fingers to the bone, and Shepherd felt guilty for waking her up.

Kira tightly clasped her robe in the front when she set eyes on him.

“I came for Hunter,” he said, holding a candle between them.

Kira didn’t know English, but she knew names. She also knew that Hunter was his son. She searched his eyes for a moment before turning away.

He waited in the open doorway. The dim candlelight slid across the floor, barely touching the shadowy pile of blankets where his child slept. Kira’s nightgown rustled as she knelt down and pulled the blankets away, waking the boy and helping him up.

Since hanging lanterns sufficiently lit the halls back to his room, Shepherd gave her the candle before taking Hunter’s hand and leading him away. “Come on, little man. I’ve got something I want you to see.”

Hunter didn’t have on any socks and was curling his toes and hopping from the cold of the floor. Shepherd bent down and picked him up, estimating the kid’s weight to be around thirty-five pounds. Was that underweight for a boy his age? Shepherd had no idea, but he decided to make sure that Kira was cooking food that Hunter liked. Maybe that was the problem. Hunter was only accustomed to the foods Patrick had prepared for him, and maybe food restriction had been a form of punishment.

“I got a big surprise for you,” he said as they passed the stairs and veered left down the front hall. “Your very own room. You don’t have to sleep in Kira’s room anymore on that cold floor. How’s that sound?”

The arched hallway spanned a long distance in the east wing. When Shepherd reached their hall and turned left, he put Hunter down so the kid could walk the rest of the way.

“You need to know how to get here on your own.”

Hunter sleepily rubbed his hooded eyes, still holding Shepherd’s hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves, and Shepherd picked up on his curiosity.

“See that door on the right? That’s my room. If you ever need something, just knock. Like this…” Shepherd rapped his knuckles on the door.

Hunter mirrored him before they continued toward the soft glow emanating from the end of the hall. When they reached the threshold, Shepherd pushed the door the rest of the way open.

He didn’t need to look at Hunter to feel the wonderment emanating from his hand.

Hunter broke away and scampered to the middle of the room. The first thing he did was touch the blue light sitting on the long table to the left. Then he hurried to the window and peered outside. His reflection played on the glass from the twinkle lights surrounding the window.

“That’s the courtyard outside. It’s a little cloudy tonight, but you might be able to see the moon from your bed.”

Hunter gasped when he laid eyes on the bookshelf. Shepherd edged farther into the room to watch his son picking a book from the shelf and flipping it open. It wasn’t a story with pictures, and as Shepherd looked closer, he realized it was upside down.

Hunter didn’t know how to read.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Well, hey… there are lots of picture books in there too. Do you like stories? There are books about pirates, jungle animals, superheroes, princesses, dragons, knights, and I saw one about a little boy with a purple crayon. That’s a good one. If you want, Claude can read to you anytime you want.”

Hunter’s eyes lit up, and he tucked the book back on the shelf before leaping onto the bed. He didn’t just leap, he flew. And once he landed, he jumped up and down on the mattress. It was a magical fucking moment, and Shepherd took it all in.

“You ready for bed, little man? Well, get under the covers.”

Hunter flipped back the blanket and scrambled beneath the sheets. Just then, a light knock sounded at the door.

Shepherd turned and saw Kira holding a teddy bear by the paw. It was the one Shepherd had given him. Her eyes rounded when she looked at the room, and a smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

“This is where he sleeps now,” Shepherd said. “Hunter’s room.” He pointed at the floor and then Hunter, who was snuggling beneath the covers with an infectious smile on his face.

She laughed softly and reached out to hand over the bear.

Shepherd reduced the distance between them, and when he grabbed the toy, their fingers briefly touched.

Kira stepped back and took one last glance around before leaving father and son alone.

“I’m gonna leave the lights on except for this one.” Shepherd switched off the lantern next to the bed. “It’s too bright.” He tucked the teddy bear under the covers, and Hunter clutched it tightly. “Well, see you in the morning.”

Shepherd left the room with a smile on his face and took one last look before closing the door. That room was more than just a place to sleep, it was a symbol of a new life for his kid. One with possibilities and dreams.

He ventured a short distance down the hall to his own room and closed the door behind him. Despite all the work he’d put into the room, Shepherd still had no sense of whether keeping Hunter was the best decision. He couldn’t even be the kind of man who tucked his kid in the way others did. The boy hadn’t quite warmed up to him yet, so Shepherd had no idea if Hunter liked him or just tolerated him. Did he even care that Shepherd was his father? Shepherd remembered how excited Hunter was when he’d told him, but maybe that wasn’t what he thought it was. Maybe Hunter was just relieved he had an opportunity to leave Patrick.

Shepherd stripped naked and put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and a white T-shirt. After he climbed into bed, he rolled over and stared at the candle burning in the lantern by the bathroom. Is this what Maggie would have wanted, or would she have asked Shepherd to let him go?

Maybe he’d had his chance and the fates didn’t want him in Hunter’s life. The kid couldn’t even read. How was Shepherd going to oversee his education when the only person watching him didn’t speak English? He remembered how Maggie said that she’d learned to read at three, and she wanted the same for her child. Learning was a door in her mind, a door that opened up a child’s imagination as well as future opportunities.

Shepherd sat up when the hinges on the door creaked. Hunter lingered at the threshold, his hand on the knob.

“What’s wrong?”

Hunter tiptoed toward the bed, and in the shadows of candlelight, the scar across his face stood out. He bumped up against the bed and held a solemn look.

“Did something scare you? Are you thirsty? You gotta pee?”

Shepherd had given him a room without a bathroom, and perhaps that wasn’t such a good idea.

“You can use mine,” he said, pointing to the entrance on his right. “Anytime you want. There’s another room across the hall with a bathroom. Would you rather have that one instead? I can move all your stuff, but you won’t have a window.”

Hunter climbed onto the bed and sat on his knees so they were looking at each other. Then he reached out and touched Shepherd’s face.

Shepherd froze. All the thoughts that had been circulating through his mind just moments ago still lingered, and he feared the residual emotions would confuse the boy. But it was too late to break the connection.

Hunter noticed the bandage on Shepherd’s forearm.

“Oh, that.” Shepherd slowly peeled away the adhesive to reveal what was beneath. “I’m a Sensor, so I don’t heal as quickly as everyone else. But this isn’t a cut or anything like that. I got a new tattoo.” He tossed the bandage on the floor and showed Hunter the fresh ink. “You know what this is? It’s a compass. It’s what people use to find their way when they’re lost. That’s north, that’s south, that’s east, and that’s west. And those letters right above north—they spell your name. Hunter.”

Hunter looked at him wide-eyed and pointed to himself with a look of astonishment and confusion.

Shepherd didn’t know how to explain in a way that he’d understand. “Yeah. I put your name on my arm… forever. It doesn’t wash off.”

When Hunter touched the ink, Shepherd grimaced. His skin was still red and inflamed from the long session. Liquid fire burned the ink right into the skin, making it indelible. Tattoos sealed that way would never fade or lose color. Shepherd wasn’t one for getting his ink done in sessions, so he would sit for as long as the artist was willing.

Hunter placed his hand over the tattoo. Small tingles gathered around the site, and moments later the pain numbed. A faint red glow emanated from the boy’s palm, and when the pain completely vanished, Hunter smiled up at him.

Shepherd’s heart nearly stopped. Sensors his age usually didn’t learn to transfer emotions, let alone take them away. While they couldn’t heal, they had the ability to remove pain.

“Did you do that?” he asked.

Hunter nodded.

Shit. Who the hell had taught this kid how to use his Sensor abilities? Was he self-taught?

“Let it go,” Shepherd insisted. “Do you know how to release the emotions you feel? Don’t ever store pain. Not ever. Your body is like that bookshelf in your room, and you can keep emotions or you can throw them away. Throw it away, you got me?”

Hunter quickly nodded and rubbed his hand across his pajama bottoms as if they were covered with dirt.

“Good job, little man.”

Hunter suddenly threw his arms around Shepherd’s neck and gave him a tight hug. Something poured through him that filled Shepherd’s eyes with tears.

Love.

Gratitude.

Relief.

This was the sign he’d been waiting for. Shepherd hugged him back. They would never have a perfect father-son relationship compared to other families, but there was no way in hell he was going to adopt this kid out to a stranger. Hunter belonged here, with him.

Shepherd let go and decided the new bedroom could wait. “Climb in, little man. Just for tonight, okay?”

Hunter excitedly pulled back the covers and wedged himself between the blanket and top sheet. Shepherd didn’t bother to fix the situation but just scooted over to make room.

“I’ll tell Claude to read you a story at bedtime tomorrow.”

Hunter shook his head and pointed at Shepherd.

Dammit, he didn’t want to cry, but the wells were filling up. Normally his tears were accompanied by pain and guilt, but these were different. They came from a place deep inside him that had long been neglected, and a garden of memories with thorny vines and overgrown weeds was now beginning to bloom. He had his son. He had family. And maybe now he had a future.

Once comfortable, Hunter laced his fingers across his chest and gazed up at the ceiling while Shepherd told him a bedtime story about a beautiful princess named Maggie.