Nicky's Christmas Miracle

Short Story

Chapter One 

"Hmm, ah yes, there they are. One, two, three," Dr. Stewart exclaims.

She's moving the stethoscope around my beautiful wife's belly, listening intently.

The clue train finally catches up to me. "Wait, what? Three what?"

"Heartbeats, of course. Congratulations, Nicky, Annie, you're having triplets."

Bam.

I fall back off the stool I'm sitting on, and the next thing I see is Annie's beautiful, soft pools of blue looking at me with what I'm certain is a great deal of concern. Do vampires actually pass out? Apparently, yes, yes, they do.

Annie is smiling at me and rubbing her belly. It's absolutely one hundred percent true what they say about pregnant women. They get this kind of glow. Annie literally lights up the Western coastline. At least, in my mind, she does.

I get a goofy grin as my beautiful wife caresses her belly. Suddenly, the realization hits me, and I mumble, "Fuck me."

"Language, Nicky, language," my best friend, Cass, admonishes.

I turn to look at her. "Sorry. When did you fog in?"

"I felt your discomfort, and I did not know what to expect. I thought that perhaps you got caught in the sun again," Cass offers.

See, vampires can actually be out in the sun, but only if we drain some demented asshole the night before. When I say "drain," I mean suck all their blood. We only do that to the truly horrendous dregs of the earth—the rapists, child molesters, and serial killers. Once, I got caught in the sun after forgetting to close the blinds when I wasn't able to hunt the night before. Believe me, this is not something I wish to repeat. I didn't die, but I definitely wished I would.

I turn to look at Dr. Stewart.

Cass fogging into the exam room is not a surprise to her because Dr. Stewart is one of Annie's pack. Vampires fog in and out of various locations as their primary means of transportation, and ever since the vampire-shape-shifter alliance, the shifters take this in stride.

Annie is a relatively new shifter, thanks to one of my other best friends, Ting.

Ting wasn't always a good friend because she had an unusual interest in my wife, Annie, before I married her.

Annie and I had a bit of a rough patch when she insisted on a thirty-day separation to help me determine what I really wanted. Of course, in my mind, that was never in question, but I'd hurt my sweet Annie, and she definitely let me know it was a question for her.

I sit up and look at Dr. Stewart. I want answers. How could this possibly happen? I'm barely ready for one baby, but three are clearly beyond my capabilities.

She's grinning so widely that I'm afraid she'll split her lip. "You two are so lucky—usually, the pack only has twins. Jacy must have some pretty hardly little swimmers."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I squeak.

"Language, Nicky, language. They can hear you through the womb, and you do not want to teach your children your common gutter-rat vernacular," Cass chides.

"Hon, you were doing so well. Remember our little incentive plan?" Annie smiles in that adorable way.

I've been working on my swearing lately to prepare for our little bundle of joy because I know kids are like sponges. Putting a quarter in a jar doesn't get the necessary results since money isn't an issue for us, but the prospect of having Annie do wonderful things to my body with her tongue definitely works. Every day I go without swearing, I get Annie's special incentive.