Page 48 of Warrior's Captive
Vivian frowned. “No, I understand. Depending on who he is, if he’s notified it could just make the situation worse. I’ll talk to Tai’ri. At least with me, they told me I wouldn’t have to have anything to do with the baby’s father unless I wanted to. That same offer should be extended to you.”
* * *
When Tai’ri returned some time later, Vivian and Shira cornered him.
“You’re my sponsor, right?” Shira demanded.
He halted, shoving his hands in his pockets, and eyed them both. “More like a legal guardian till you decide if you want to stay here and apply for citizenship.”
“Ok, well tell the people in charge that I don’t want anything to do with the sperm donor.”
“Uh . . .”
“It’s the right thing,” Vivian said, interpreting his expression. “What if he isn’t a good man?”
“He could be dead, for all we know.”
“That would be great,” Shira muttered.
“But if he’s not, and he’s a good male, then he should know about his child,” Tai’ri countered. “We don’t really know how the traffickers are obtaining their . . . sperm.” He winced. “If it was all from kidnapped people, we’d have more cases of missing adult males.” Tai’ri stilled suddenly, then cursed. “Of course. The fucking sperm donors.”
He spun on his heel, tapping his wrist unit, and strode to a corner of the room, talking under his breath.
The women exchanged looks. “Looks like we just handed him a clue,” Shira said.
“Looks like,” Vivian murmured.
Tai’ri returned, leveled a look at them, all hesitance gone now under his mask of professional warrior. “Shira, nothing will be done without your knowledge and consent. We’ll discuss this further later. Viv, we need to go.”
Shira grabbed Vivian’s hand. “Comm me, okay?”
Vivian squeezed back. “Okay.”
17
“This is better than a baby shower,”Vivian said gleefully, eyeing her selections as the clerk tallied them up, barely able to refrain from rubbing her hands together.
The craft warehouse obviously believed in old-fashioned service, just as the cafe they’d first met in had. No self-scanning of purchases, but a flesh and blood shopkeeper on the premises.
He’d woken her that morning for the shopping trip back to the artists’ sector. Stepping inside the warehouse for the first time, she’d been struck silent by the sheer variety of supplies, and instantly knew she’d need a bigger studio. More storage. More projects to give her more excuses to shop.
Tai’ri turned back towards her, expression baffled. “A shower of babies? That can’t have translated right.”
She counted herself lucky he’d trailed behind her for the three hours she’d spent in the store—the size of a warehouse—rather than finding a seat and parking himself. Not that he would—if anyone got even a foot too close to her, he morphed from amused and resigned to bristling and dangerous.
“No, a baby shower. It’s an occasion where friends and family gather to give a pregnant mother the stuff she’ll need for the baby.”
He scowled. “Where is the father? Why isn’t he providing his mate and child what they need?”
Vivian laughed, stepping aside as Tai’ri paid for her booty, then arranged for the bags to be delivered. She eyed her purchases as the clerk put them in a labeled bin for pickup. She may have gone a little overboard.
“I’ll pay you back,” she said.
“I can’t hear you.” Tai’ri placed a hand on the small of her back. “Are you hungry? I’ll take you to lunch and you can tell me more about this showering baby custom.”
“It’s really just an excuse for a party,” she said once they’d chosen a food vendor and found a table in the outdoor courtyard. “It’s not just presents, but food, music, games.”
“My family has a monthly gathering,” he said, stretching his legs out. “If there are any births, we celebrate them. I’ll tell my father about this showering baby custom. The males should be the ones to provide for the babies. Trust humans to make females spend their own money.”
