Chapter 25 - Prodigal Hatchling

Fin Fan Corporate Headquarters

Nyx

Okay, first impression of Fang’s mom?

She was, well… super hot.

And, to be absolutely clear, I mean that both literally and figuratively.

What? Don’t look at me like that!

Ask Lili and Maribel. I bet they’ll have my back.

“I mean, I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Lili offered. “Something about the pitch-black scales, those molten streaks, and the murderous aura do it for me.”

My left hand just wobbled a little – announcing Maribel’s indifference. Although, her vote should be taken with a grain of salt. I mean, Fang’s mom wasn’t a rat, after all. But she had the tail and the claws and scales black as midnight. So, most of the way there.

“You think Fang’s mom would be open to replacing him?” Lili added. “It feels like it would make our dynamic less weird. Also, hotter.”

She was right. We could even make a mobile sauna in the Death Wagon—

“So, the prodigal son returns,” Fang’s mom snapped, steam wafting out around her, an army of savrans arrayed against us. “Is this how you greet me?”

To her credit, Fang was just standing there awkwardly cowering and sweating mist.

“How you greet your sisters?” she continued, waving at the others.

Wait, what!? They didn’t call this a surprise party for nothing!

But were… were they his sisters or his “sisters in scale,” if you know what I mean?

Was that speciest? They all had the same snaked-eyed death glare, but were they really his sisters? All of them? Or just like some of them? Half maybe? Actually, now that I thought about it, how many babies did a typical broodmother have?

Shit. I really should have paid better attention to his dating advice…

Also, did Fang have brothers? Uncles? A father?

Actually, did savrans’ have genders?

I know, I know… I’m getting distracted from the real questions.

Like weren’t all these people supposed to be dead? Spirits freed from their mortal vessel? You remember that right? The part where he told me his tribe was dead?

“Dead to me,” Fang hissed under his breath. “I said dead to me.”

Shit, okay. That last one must have been out loud.

Also, that’s not at all how I remembered it. “Hey Lili, what did I—”

“Huh, you know what? You had an extra helping of Death Shrooms that evening so it’s pretty cloudy… but I think he could be right.”

Well, shit. That was a no, a yes, and a maybe. So, a tie. Not only that, but Fang’s mom was looking at me now, those glowing orange eyes dripping with disgust as they inspected me from head to foot. Then she let out a slow, disappointed hiss. This felt so familiar—

Ahh, it was just like Fang! He must have gotten it from his mother…

Actually, you know what? Maybe I was thinking about this wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t feel betrayed by Fang’s totally-still-alive family or resentful that mine was all very much still dead or kidnapped.

I got it now. Why Fang was just standing there – mouth open and pale and sweating and shifty eyed. Obviously, he was nervous. I’d gotten pretty good at picking up on his body language. Extensive couple’s therapy had helped with that – with our communication. Which is how I knew exactly what was going on here.

Everything else had been a cover. All of it. The road trip. His insistence we not head north – he knows reverse psychology is super effective against me. Even this surprise party. Fang was nervous because he was finally bringing me home to meet his family.

Or should I say, my in-laws.

“Who are you?” Fang’s mom demanded, stabbing a claw at me. “And why do you make that face – like you are in horrible pain? Please stop.”

Huh, is that what my smile looked like to other people? That was actually helpful feedback. I’d been practicing, but I didn’t have a mirror – just Lili and Maribel.

But as for who I was, well, let’s just say it was a good thing I had a chance to practice with Pietr. That must have also been part of Fang’s plan, which is why I gave him a thumbs up. He was just trying to help me overcome my crippling social anxiety. Luckily, I had a solution for that – practicing my opening line thousands of times until it was second nature.

“Ahem, my name is Nicolas Squattingham Murderson the Fourth,” I announced. “You can call me Nick for short.”

I even remembered to bow. Lili said it would help.

“Uh… Manslaughter,” Fang’s mom said back.

I blinked. That wasn’t part of the script. This was normally the part where the other person said their name, but she’d skipped straight to talking about our hobbies?

What a weird and totally awesome power move.

Which was fine. I could adapt. I’d practiced.

“Oh, you enjoy that too!” I replied, my smile widening. “We already have something in common. That’s fantastic. Although, I like to keep my slaughtering options open, you know? Is there a reason you prefer men, specifically or—”

“No, that is my name,” Fang’s mom – who was, uh, named Manslaughter – answered.

Okay, weird. But I shouldn’t judge. Definitely shouldn’t laugh.

We were also way off script now. How could I have anticipated she’d have such a weird name? What was I even supposed to say to that?

No, no we’d trained for this. I needed to breathe. Just power through.

“Well, it’s still a, uh, pleasure to meet you,” I replied, my eye twitching slightly. My smile was also falling apart on me. The muscles had gotten overused today. “Fang has told me, well… absolutely nothing at all about you – any of you,” I added with a vague nod at the rest of the room. “And I’ve been super excited to meet you for, uh, at least the last sixty seconds. It’s an honor to finally meet his family – to meet my mother-in-law.”

I cocked my head. “Or I guess, should I just call you mom?”

Fang’s mother stared back and the others hissed in confusion.

“W-what?” she demanded, caught off guard. “Why would you call me that?”

My brow scrunched. “Uh, well, obviously because Fang and I are bromates.”

Now they were all staring at me.

Almost like they didn’t believe me. But that was ridiculous…

I mean, sure, Fang hadn’t told me about his family – obviously, because of the surprise party. But surely, he’d told his secret family about me! I mean, we were clearly bromates. That’s why I was holding his hand—

Which Fang peeled off gently, his eyes meeting mine – his completely unexplained anxiety and fear at meeting his own secret family melting in the face of the comforting warmth of our [Bromance]. “Don’t worry. I have this,” he reassured me.

He straightened his skinny shoulders, hefted that strange pack that he was always carrying for some reason, the glow returning to his eyes as he glared back at a room full – or half-full – of his totally-alive family. Mist coiled around him as he stepped in front of me. Then he revealed the true depth of our bromantic relationship to his whole entire family while they watched with all those weapons and incredulous glowing snake eyes—

“I do not know this sapian. He follows me around and says crazy things,” Fang explained. “I feel bad for him, so I keep him fed. See? Very fat.”

Wow. Just… wow. He even turned and poked me!

“Seriously, that was so harsh,” Lili murmured.

Maribel was just patting my shoulder awkwardly.

Oh, trust me, Fang I would be having words about this.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

But, for now, it was important to keep up appearances – to not paralyze my bromate, tie him up, and torture him… At least, not in front of his secret family.

“If you say so,” Fang’s mother muttered, shaking her head. Then her gaze returned to her son. “But you shouldn’t be here. Do you not remember what I told you?”

“I remember well,” Fang snapped back. “If I showed my face around here again, I better be prepared to die. But I’m not that same hatchling anymore.”

His mom just snorted, a blast of steam striking a table and boring a hole straight through the wood. Woah, the pressure was getting intense.

“The over confidant hunter bites off more than he can chew. Some things never change,” she hissed back, steam pouring from her nostrils in thick streams now, the molten cracks in her scales flaring. Fang flinched, just glaring back.

Ahh, she used Fang’s hunter thing! Or maybe it was the other way around? They even had subtext – delicious hints at some mysterious back story that no one seemed keen to explain to me. Which was just great. I didn’t feel awkward at all.

“Enough of this. Take care of him,” Fang’s mom ordered, waving at a trio of Fang’s sisters. Maybe. Sorry, it’s not like anyone even introduced themselves!

“Leave him alive,” Fang’s mom hissed. “I want to know what he’s been up to – what other damage he might have caused.”

Fang’s sisters all smiled, showing way too much teeth.

Then they rushed forward, black scales slick with steam, raising daggers that let out this whirring, high-pitch grind. Ahh, probably because they were channeling steam into them. Actually, oh wow! The blade was serrated and rippled back and forth in a blur of metal, the heat causing them to glow a dull orange. Like tiny, overheated chainsaws.

I wanted one so bad—

Oh, wait, were they going to try to cut Fang with those things? In here? The cathedral-like hall was big, but not that big. Plus, Fang’s mist cloud had started getting pretty huge. He’d huffed most of our nimbus gem stash at this point – his drugs long gone.

“Uh, sorry to intrude, but you don’t really want to do that—” I began helpfully.

Ahh, too late.

Fang just smirked, never breaking eye contact with his mother as those whirring little chain-daggers cut at his scales—

Only for them to disappear. Mist exploded out across the room in a billowing cloud, thick and wet and super dense. Luckily, I used the cover to discreetly summon my babies and a little rathole. They got the tarp up just in time to ward off most of the blast.

Normally, I wouldn’t care. But I couldn’t let him mess up my cloak. Not in front of my mother-in-law! First impressions were incredibly important. Or, uh, second impressions.

Especially, when your bromantic partner humiliates you in front of his entire family.

Screams echoed from the mist and then a light began to pulse in the center of the room – the heat rising, rising, rising. Fang’s mom evaporated the mist rapidly, forming thick storm clouds along the vaulted ceiling, rain soon pitter pattering the floor of the inn. Those droplets sizzled as they touched the scales of Fang’s sisters, the trio all moaning on the ground.

Meanwhile, the rest of his secret family looked on with dispassionate and somewhat surprised glowing snake eyes. Probably because Fang was unharmed, stalking toward his mother, his own daggers in hand.

Even she looked taken aback, however the fire in her eyes flared back in a flash. His sisters started to move, but she held up a hand. “No, no I shall handle this.”

“You should pick up a weapon,” Fang drawled.

His mother smiled, showing her teeth. “I don’t need weapons for you.”

As soon as she finished speaking, a superheated laserbeam of steam jetted from her mouth, spearing through the air and piercing Fang’s forehead—

Only for the clone to break apart into wisps of mist.

Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing even as she twisted and raised her forearm. Fang’s blade skittered across her scales and sent off a shower of sparks, nowhere near sharp enough to penetrate her armor. Had she reinforced it with metal? Interesting. I was guessing the whole steam thing might be a side effect of breathing in all the soot and smoke outside. Maybe they had evolved from mist spirits to steam spirits?

However, Manslaughter wasn’t expecting that Fang to break apart as well. Or for the real Fang to come barreling at her from behind. She pivoted, but too slow. His blade cut along her scales, the blade coated in a thick, vibrating layer of mist – like a water saw… cleaving into her scales but not quite drawing blood.

Damn, Fang’s mom was thick.

Her eyes widened and another blast of steam erupted from her mouth. At point blank, Fang couldn’t dodge. But he didn’t need to. Another bloom of thick mist erupted from him. Then another and another, the moisture so cloying and thick that it was becoming difficult to breathe. The fight had devolved into a clanging, flashing blur amid the fog.

However, Fang’s mom soon burned it away. Revealing many copies of Fang cutting and slicing and stabbing and dodging as his mother warded off his attacks with just her bare claws. However, she was getting slower, scratches marring her scales. Then he pressed his advantage, the clones pushing in close—

Only for his mother to do something new.

Her scales lifted slightly and steam exploded from those openings, forming a perfect sphere. Fang and his clones were thrown back, more thick mist appearing as his body broke apart. I expected him to wait, to retreat and regroup, but Fang had a different plan.

He must have used the clones to bait his mother into attacking; to time his own attack. To aim for that split second window when his mother needed to recover from that defensive move, her dark scales glowing a dull red as they settled back into place.

Because the real Fang shot through that wall of superheated steam, the mist coating his body protecting him from the heat. He raced toward his mother so quickly that he was merely a green streak, vapor wafting in his wake.

In that moment before Fang struck – that fraction of a second – I could have sworn I saw his mother’s eyes lock with his; realization reflected in her gaze. There was no rage or murder or disgust shining there. It was something else. Something unfamiliar. A look Fang had never given me—

CLANG.

The force of the impact sent the mist and steam blastingg away, and even stripped the moisture from the bodies of the other savrans still standing there, smashing it up against the walls until rivers of water and dust flowed down their surface.

Fang and his mother stood in the center of the room – his blades caught in his mom’s grasp. But she wasn’t using her bare claws anymore. Instead, she was wearing a pair of metallic claws. Steam pumped through the machinery, puffing and gusting as the claws flexed and snapped out, sending Fang hurtling backward.

His feet touched down lightly and he slid to a stop.

Silence lingered in the room – his sisters staring.

“I thought you didn’t need weapons,” Fang sneered.

His mother grimaced, her eyes smoldering. Then she relaxed her stance. “Clearly, I underestimated you. You have grown. You are no longer the Nameless I knew.”

My brow furrowed. Uh, what? Nameless? His name was Fang. Obviously. Uh, right? Or maybe he’d been lying about that too? Woah.

“I have a name. It is Fang.”

Her expression hardened, the air around her boiling. “Yet you still forget our customs. You did not earn that name.”

Uh… okay. I was still super confused.

“I’m not the one that forgets – the one that chose to give up our heritage, to give up the mists, to become slaves,” Fang snapped back.

His mother snorted. “And I see you still speak like a hatchling. Naïve.”

Her eyes narrowed as she inspected him. “There is only one explanation for your growth,” she observed. “You have meddled with another gate, haven’t you? Even after what happened last time…”

The others were hissing louder now, their eyes glowing and glaring.

“This isn’t like last time. We conquered a gate,” Fang hissed back, his eyes flashing.

Uh, so I was still kind of lost. Had Fang entered another gate? Without me? But… but I thought I was his first? And was this still part of my party? Another surprise? If so, then they were starting to lose some of their impact, honestly. Or maybe just context?

His mother looked me, standing there and peeking over the top of a ratskin tarp, my babies hiding beside me. “We?” she echoed. “You and this sapian? Now I know you lie.”

“Hey, but we did—” I began indignantly, taking a step forward.

And suddenly a few of those glowing chain-daggers were pointed at me. Woah. His sisters could sure move fast. What they gave up in invisibility they gained in speed and power and fun new weapons. Although, Manslaughter was just shaking her head in disbelief.

I’ll admit, that stung. I could totally prove it, though! I just had to use Lili’s—

Ahh, Fang was glaring at me and shaking his head.

Ahh, right… Rule #2.

But c’mon? I couldn’t even show them what a true [Battle Daddy] looked like? I thought you were supposed to help your bromantic partner show off for your estranged and slightly racist mother? Plus, this surprise party seemed pretty light on the party part...

“What do you want? Why did you come back here?” his mother demanded finally.

“That is a long story, but I had no choice,” Fang hissed back. Then he glanced at the other savrans – all of them watching and staring. “I would like to explain. Privately.”

His mother just snorted, steam blasting. “Why should I?”

“You owe me as much. You broke the rules of engagement.” He nodded at her claw-like weapons. “Or have the tribe’s rules changed that much; have you truly been domesticated by these other races – by these Fin-Fans?”

Angry hisses met his words accompanied by the grinding whirr of super cool steam-powered weaponry that I would still very much like to take apart.

His mother waved the others back. “Fine. I shall hear what you have to say. But if I do not like what I hear, we shall gut you and your… fat sapian pet.”

Fang winced at that one. So, did I.

Although, I was thinking our reasons might be different.

Honestly, I wasn’t so worried about the literal stabbing, but her words cut deep.

His mother’s glowing gaze shifted to the barricaded door, Horus’ fans still pounding at the surface and the furniture shuddering. Oh, and me still standing there – still completely dry because of my tarp and pushing my babies into another discreet rathole.

“In fact, we will keep your sapian here. As leverage,” she continued.

“That is not a good idea. He should come with us,” Fang added quickly. “He is…” He just trailed off, uncertain how to finish as he saw his family’s skeptical expressions.

His mother’s frown deepened. “Do you… do you care for this one?”

Woah, and now I was staring at Fang with everyone else.

This was it. This was his moment. His chance to come clean and admit he loved—

“Uh, no. No! Of course not. I’m just worried about—”

“What then?” his mother demanded. “He is just a sapian. Little threat.”

Fang didn’t look convinced. He actually looked really, really nervous.

Probably because I was starting to look pretty upset. I gave him my best glare.

“Enough. Let us go,” his mother demanded, waving at an adjoining hallway off the main hall. She glanced at the others. “The rest of you, clean up this mess and disperse the crowd outside. And watch this faaat sssapian.”

Still wasn’t loving that at all. And was the hissing lisp necessary?

Fang met my eyes one last time, mist dripping from his scales. “Remember The Rules,” he hissed, keeping his voice low so his sisters couldn’t hear him. “Normal. Be normal. And no using Lili or the babies. You understand?”

I nodded. “Of course,” I chirped. I even smiled.

That only seemed to make it worse, though.

“Are you lying to me?” he demanded.

“Of course, not. I wouldn’t do that to my dear friend. You know, lead him to believe his entire family is dead and then deny our bromantic relationship in front of them? That would be terrible, right? That might even feel like a horrific betrayal. One worthy of reaping sweet, sweet vengeance in some sort of convoluted and ultimately insane plot.”

I just stared at him innocently. “See? That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

Wow, now he looked really nervous – like he didn’t want to leave.

I don’t know why, though.

“Are you coming?” his mother demanded.

He looked conflicted. I just raised an eyebrow.

Then he sighed and disappeared in a stream of mist, flowing off after his mother.

There he went again. Running away from his problems. Again.

Hiding from me. From himself. From our relationship.

“It’s okay, we don’t need him,” Lili said. “His mom is way cooler.”

My left hand, threaded with darkness, patted my shoulder. It was sweet, in a way.

But not quite what I needed right now. My life to-date hasn’t been what I would call “fun.” Or “easy.” Or even “survivable.” I mean, I don’t have to tell you. You saw it all, right? The child abuse? Getting stuck in that gate filled with rat shit? Fang horrific and somewhat-predictable betrayal?

But when the Flow only gives you shit, well… you learn how to make poo-crete, right? I guess what I’m saying is that I discovered a way to cope a long time ago.

You know, instead of going into a murderous rage.

I channeled that passion into my projects.

And right now? Well, I’d been promised a party…