The Fae Book 3: Butcher and Raine

Chapter 9 (Raine): Room For Surprises

"Raine, you have to leave room for surprises," my mother would say to me in French. "They can set you on a path you couldn't have imagined. I never would have met your father if I hadn't left room in my life for the unexpected."

Having grown up with my mother's laissez faire approach to life, I preferred a bit more structure. Just like the business plan I'd developed for my yoga studio, I tried to stick to a plan for my life.

"Maman, I know your approach works for you, and I'm happy it does, but I need a more organized approach to my life. I have a plan and I like knowing exactly what's ahead."

Her beautiful eyes would soften and she'd smile as if she knew secrets that I would also learn in time.

"What am I going to do with you, Raine?"

My mother would tell me that Butcher sitting on my couch after having broken into my apartment was one of those surprises I should have left room for. I thought I was doing pretty well dealing with an unexpected pregnancy, being kidnapped and thrown into a jail cell, learning about the existence of a supernatural world that my friends were part of...and best of all, discovering the father of my child was a psychopath who'd harbored a shit-ton of evil fairies in him and had the power of lightning at his fingertips.

No, it was safe to say my life plan had veered off course and plummeted down the side of the mountain. Maman would be so proud at how much motherfucking room for surprises was now in my life.

"Leave," I said nastily to Butcher and walked to my kitchen sink so I could grab a glass of water. Maybe look for a knife to throw at him, a stray tire iron to bludgeon him with. After I downed the entire glass of water -- wishing it could be something much stronger -- I looked back at my couch and surprise! Butcher was still seated there like a king.

You're not the king, Butcher. Think you learned that lesson today when the real king ripped open your chest with a fucking lightning bolt.

I pulled out my phone. "You're still here, which means you're either hard of hearing or stupid. Do I need to get the man you bowed to over here to teach you another lesson? Have him put you on your knees again?"

"You've avoided me for four months," he said. "We need to talk about this baby situation."

"You mean Cecil Percy?" I kept a straight face.

"Who the hell is Cecil Percy?"

"You don't like the names I picked out for my boy? I keep bouncing between Percy Cecil and Cecil Percy because I just can't decide which combination sounds prettier."

"Prettier? You want to give a boy a pretty name? You do that, he's going to be getting into fights all the time to defend his name."

"Oh, no! I'm going to teach him that we use our words, not our fists, and that nothing was ever solved with violence. Percy Cecil will never be in a fight since I'll teach him to be a peacemaker."

Then I gave Butcher an innocent look. "He'll certainly never be a man who would throw a pregnant woman in a jail cell after tying her to a chair and interrogating her with a knife."

Butcher returned my look. "You weren't even hurt. Get over it."

Where was that damn tire iron?

"Why are you here?"

"I told you to be here when I got the results so we could talk. I got the results. I'm the father."

"Really? Wow, isn't it a miracle that out of the hundreds, possibly thousands, of men who could have been the father, I just knew it was you? What are the odds?"