Page 118 of Kincaid, Part One

I walked slowly through the quiet house with him against my shoulder. His tiny fingers found one of mine and wrapped around it with surprising strength. That grip felt right. This was my son. My blood. My heir.

Samantha woke up again later that morning when I brought him back to her. Exhaustion still sat heavy on her face as she stayed propped against the pillows. Her skin looked pale and her movements remained slow and careful. She smiled when she saw us and reached for him.

“You’ve had him almost all morning,” she said softly.

I handed Seth over so she could nurse him. She held him close while he fed and I watched the two of them. When he finished I took him back. I burped him carefully and changed his diaper before carrying him around the house again. He stayed calm in my arms the whole time.

“You’ve barely put him down,” she said with a tired smile.

“He needs to get used to me.”

I kept Seth with me for the rest of the afternoon while Samantha tried to recover. By early evening, she had returned to bed, still drained from the delivery. Her hair was tangled around her face, and one of my shirts covered her body.

While Samantha rested against the pillows, I changed into a tailored black suit. Then I set the infant carrier near the bed and reached for Seth.

“Where are you taking him?” she asked. Her voice carried a note of hesitation.

“To meet some of my colleagues. They have been asking to meet him.”

“Already?” She looked uncertain for a second.

“He’ll be fine.”

She hesitated, “Okay, just don’t keep him out too long.” Then she leaned forward carefully and kissed Seth on the forehead. “Be good for Daddy.”

Samantha had prepared two bottles for him, which I packed beside the diapers and extra clothes. I buckled him securely into the carrier and stepped outside where Colin waited in the car. The drive to one of the Collective’s private country club estates passed mostly in silence. I checked on Seth several times while he slept through almost the entire ride. He trusted whoever carried him without question. I would make sure that trust stayed where I put it.

The estate appeared through the trees looking exclusive and secluded with its manicured grounds and imposing main building. Inside the private hall masked members of the Collective had already gathered. Animal masks gleamed under low candlelight while heavy drapes blocked the windows and a long dark table dominated the center of the room. Wine sat in decanters along the table and the air carried the smell of old wood and incense.

Some men wore suits while others kept ceremonial robes visible beneath their masks. Conversation stayed low until I walked in carrying the infant carrier with Seth inside.

Everything stopped.

Heads turned. The room went completely still. I wasn’t merely bringing my son into the room. I was presenting the Kincaid heir, and every man there understood the significance. I felt the weight of their attention and stood taller with my son. Pride moved through me. They needed to see this. They knew what I was capable of, and they showed the proper respect.

One of the older members broke the silence. “This is not a place for children.”

I kept one hand on the carrier. “He’s a Kincaid. He’s right where he belongs.”