The blaring sound of a ringtone snatches me from my sleep, and I grudgingly twist my waist around to stretch an arm toward the night desk, or more like where I believe the night desk is, searching for the goddamn phone.
Where the fuck is it? Gosh, it's so frigging loud, stop ringing.
Shit—of course, I just have to knock something over in my search; I don't know what fell, and honestly, I'm too sleepy to care. It hasn't made a loud crashing sound, so it shouldn't be something important, anyway.
A familiar chuckle echoes, crystal clear in my ears despite the loud ringtone.
"A bit further to your left."
Grumbling a 'hm' as a thank you, I finally get my hand on the noisy shit, take the call, and bring the phone to my ear as I let myself fall back onto the mattress.
For fuck's sake, who's calling me at this hour? Ah, wait, there are only three people who have my number, and one of them is in the bed with me. So, either James or Eve.
"Yeah?"
"Were you still sleeping?" James's amused voice seems to thunder in my head. He's not screaming, but he might as well be. "It's already noon, sleepy head."
Dude, we got home at about four and a half in the morning, and I finally lay down on my bed almost half an hour later. I don't want to know how long I tossed in bed, too, thanks to stress. If you do a quick calculation, getting up at noon barely gets me seven hours of sleep.
I've already trashed a good night's rest yesterday; I'm not trashing another one, thank you.
"Anyway, the club is opening at three in the afternoon, and I expect to see you there. There's been no victim found this morning, and I've got a hunch the kobolds are going to act today. They've been quiet for too many days, and I don't believe they'll stay idle for much longer."
"Hm, I guess so."
Finally, I force my eyes open and glance askance at Jordan.
Unlike me, he's sitting on the bed, his back leaning against the massive headboard, a report open in his hands. Mister's been working while I slept—how surprising. But maybe he's the weird one, as the kids, too, are still sleeping soundly between us; Ellena is snuggling against her father's thigh, while Elois has curled up against my flank.
"…Do you think we can leave the house this afternoon without the kids throwing a tantrum?"
"Most likely not." Jordan shakes his head. Well, looks like we're on the same wavelength this time; I can already hear the crying fit they're going to throw. "But we'll have to."
"Kids?" James repeats in my ear.
"I told you Eve is my husband's ex-bed partner, didn't I?"
Damn, I'm tired, and rubbing my eyes doesn't do much to wake me up. Still, I'll have to get out of bed soon. These past two days have yielded no result whatsoever, and the most likely scenario is that the kobolds will act tonight. If not, it's going to be during the day next week, and catching them in the act in that case is going to be near impossible.
I haven't found a way to clone myself yet, meaning I can't watch over different locations at the same time.
Sadly, that unfortunate gift of mine doesn't work on security camera footage. I need to see the people in real time to get a glimpse of their true forms. Pictures and videos are useless, as neither can capture a supernatural being's real appearance, unlike what movies and fiction would like to make people believe.
Otherworldly beings can hide their true forms from other otherworldly beings, so how the fuck could man-made objects such as a camera or a phone manage to reveal it? What a ridiculous concept.
"—So you're a stepdad now?"
"According to the kids, I'm their dad, or biological mother, or whatever."
Ah, maybe I shouldn't have said that. Well, too late; the words have already left my mouth. I'm too drowsy to watch my tongue, and it's not like I'm lying, anyway.
"Biological mother?" Jordan repeats, visibly amused. Right. I haven't told him Elois's magnificent idea of what I could be to them, since I can't be their biological dad.
"Yes, biological mother."
I offer him a stiff smile, hoping the message comes across. I still don't know what Eve's been teaching them, and I still don't want to know, but I hope my dear husband here can do something about it. He's a little sterner than Eve, so maybe, and just maybe, the education of the kids should fall under his jurisdiction, and not hers.
"Why would they ask you to be their biological mother?"
Wipe that smile off your face! The prick is clearly having fun at my expense, and I feel my mouth twitch.
"Well, your son was a tad sad when I told him that I can't be his and his sister's biological dad, so he went for the next best thing. Unfortunately, I had to break it to him on our way back home from the mall that males can't get pregnant, and therefore, I can't be their biological mother."
"Incubi have a womb, though."
"Don't be a smartass with me."
"—Fuck, I can't listen to this homey conversation any longer. I'll leave you with your domestic affairs, but be sure to drag your asses off at the club. See you!"
Then, James just goes up and hangs up after saying his piece. I can't help but stare at the phone, cocking an eyebrow.
Homey? Domestic? What the heck is he talking about? We're not being homey or domestic in the least—
"I'll take care of waking up the kids and explaining that we can play with them today. It'll most likely take me a while, so you should take your time in the shower. At least, enough time to allow them to calm down a bit before they see you, or..."
Or they will cling to me and refuse to let go. Gotcha.
"I'll do just that, thank you."
If I can avoid the crying fit, I certainly will. These two listen more to their father than they do to me, so I'll leave it up to Jordan to handle the fallout. I'll just have to make it up to them later, once this case is closed, and I can finally relax.
With that in mind, I slip out of bed, pretending I haven't noticed Elois's frown, and flee to the bathroom annexed to my bedroom.
I undress quickly and jump into the shower. I was too tired yesterday to wash up, and I feel grimy as hell.
The warm water runs down my back as I shampoo my hair. At some point, James's words pop back into my mind, and a scoff leaves me.
Seriously, who's being domestic? It's just a normal morning, with the kids and my husband sleeping in my bed, and some discussion about how to handle the children because of our work, and also—ah, shit, I'll be damned.
…That's hella domestic, fuuuuck!