The Baby Shift- Illinois Read online

  The Baby Shift: Illinois

  Shifter Babies Of America 17

  Becca Fanning

  Copyright © 2019 by Becca Fanning

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Also by Becca Fanning

  Chapter 1

  "You're four weeks pregnant, Miss Coleman."

  The words rang in Hazel's ears as she stared at the man in white overalls sitting in a chair on the opposite end of the table.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't quite get you. Do come again, please."

  He sighed. "I said, the reason you've been suffering from nausea and vomiting these past few days is that you're four weeks pregnant."

  Hazel shook her head. Her fingers were trembling as they frantically wrapped around each other. "But that's... that's impossible."

  The doctor frowned. "Why? Because you've not had sexual relations within the last month?"

  "I have, but... but he used a condom."

  He gave another sigh, and this time he blatantly rolled his eyes. No doubt he had witnessed the same scene over and over again during the course of his career. He spoke as if reciting something he had memorized. "Condoms are 98% useful in preventing pregnancy, but when you factor in human errors, they are only 85% effective."

  He continued as if she did not understand. " For every 100 condom users, 15 women will indeed get pregnant annually. As I said, this is mostly due to not properly using the ..."

  "I get it, okay!" Hazel snapped. Her mind whirled as the implications of what was happening hit her from all angles. She needed time to think - to gather her thoughts.

  "Do you want me to go ahead and arrange for STD tests?"

  She nodded. She cared about her health immensely, but catching an STD was the least of her worries at the moment. The doctor rose from his seat and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him and leaving her alone in his office. She assumed he was getting things ready for her tests. Her smartphone suddenly rang out in her handbag.

  She took it out of the bag and read the name of the caller. It was Stanley Matthews, her current boss and the Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

  "Agent Coleman," said the hoarse voice of the man on the other end of the call.

  "Sir," she replied.

  "Are you at the bar?" he asked.

  "No, sir. I wasn't feeling too well, so I took a day off to allow myself to get checked up."

  "And? What did the test results say?"

  She paused, unable to reply. Will they pull her off the case if they found out she was pregnant on assignment? And not just any assignment. This was the biggest mission of her career. No. She would keep her mouth shut and figure out her problems herself.

  "Agent Coleman. Are you there?" Stanley asked, worry creeping into his voice. She was not naive enough to think his concern was for her well-being rather than for the mission.

  She finally replied. "It turned out to be nothing. Just the flu."

  "Good," he said. "We need you as sharp as ever. Once the Fabrizzis return from their trip to Italy, Mr. Black could show up at any time."

  Hazel sighed. Mr. Black was the nickname given to the biggest illegal drugs and weapons supplier in the state of Illinois, and one of the largest in the country. He was the reason she had been deployed from Washington DC to the town of Greenville, Illinois to work undercover as a bar girl at the Maple Bar. Owned by 34-year-old Phillip Orwell, the bar was a regular hangout spot for the Fabrizzi family and their cartel members. They were a werebear family who traded in drugs and weapons and held their important meetings at the bar. Her mission was to find out the identity of their main supplier, Mr. Black.

  She said. "I'm as sharp as ever, sir."

  He said. "That's good to know. This is a really big deal for us. Knowledge of Mr. Black's true identity has evaded the FBI for way too long. This is not only big for us, but it's also big for you, too. Don't forget all you sacrificed to get that job at the bar."

  Hazel flinched. She still remembered the sick feeling she had when she said yes to Phillip Orwell. He wanted to have her just once in exchange for the job, and she, pretending to be a broke college dropout, had agreed.

  Stanley continued. "I know you hate what you had to do but believe me when I say it was worth it. America will remember you once those scumbags are off the streets."

  Hazel looked up at the ceiling. The tears were beginning to gather in her eyes. If only it were that easy. What the Deputy Director of the FBI did not know was that after sleeping with Phillip Orwell, she was now four weeks pregnant with his child.

  The bar was getting busier by the minute. It was all Hazel could do to keep up. The Maple bar was not a particularly little establishment, but it was small enough so that it only required one person at the bar selling drinks. It was a Friday night, and it seemed everyone who came in that night came in to drink away the realities of their life.

  There were stools at the bar, just in front of where she stood, with a whole collection of liquor bottles behind her. Further away from her were four round tables, each with four chairs. Those who came in groups occupied all of these chairs and tables. They made so much noise that the music coming from the speaker in the corner was barely audible.

  Hazel had half a mind to scream at the customers and order them to keep their voices down, but she did not have the energy nor the conviction. She realized she should probably get Mr. Orwell to help quiet the guests, but ever since she heard of her pregnancy the previous day, she could barely look him in the eye much less be alone in a room with him. He was currently in one of the four rooms at the back of the bar which served as his office.

  Ever since their one-night-stand, Phillip had been friendly towards her without overstepping. She could say the both of them had maintained a professional working relationship in the last month. He put her through the many things she did not understand about bartending and always paid her bonuses. He seemed nothing like the lustful man who was willing to abandon his principles to savor her slim but voluptuous body.

  She wondered how he would react when he discovered she was pregnant for him. She hoped not to find out anytime soon - at least until her mission was completed. Hazel knew she was what most men would consider stunningly beautiful. Her dark hair complimented her black-colored eyes, and her long legs were as smooth as any model's.

  The door of the bar opened once more, and six men walked in. Hazel recognized three of them the second they walked in. Leading the line of fully-grown men all dressed in black jackets and pants was 45-year-old Martino Fabrizzi. Behind him came his two sons, Nico and Antonio Fabrizzi. They were accompanied by three men she had never seen before and could not recognize, neither did she care to. All she cared about were the three men ruling the cartel. Apparently, they were back from their trip to Italy. The sooner they got back to business, the sooner she could find Mr. Black and return to her life where she could finally come to terms with her pregnancy.

  Martino was a large man, and even with his jacket on, Hazel could tell that rippling muscles were the main source of his massive size. Nico was just as big as his father, if not bigger. Unlike Martino who had long, wavy dark hair, Nico's head was completely hairless except for the thick layer of dark beard on his face. His father, too, had a similar beard.

  Although
the reports of the FBI labeled Antonio as Martino's son, the young man looked nothing like his werebear brother and father. Antonio Fabrizzi was 6'1" tall, athletic to the point of appearing slim, and possessed short hair that was as dark as it was smooth; and it was incredibly smooth.

  So engrossed was she in taking in their appearance that Hazel almost failed to notice that seconds after their arrival at the bar, the crowd slowly began to leave. One by one, customers began trudging out of the building without so much as a word. The Fabrizzi family did not give them a second glance. Less than two minutes after their arrival, they were the only customers in the bar.

  "Simone. Go in and inform good old Phillip of our arrival." Martino's deep voice could be heard from his seat at the table.

  One of the men, a large dark-complexioned man rose, walked past the bar straight and into the doorway leading to the other rooms. A few minutes later, he came back into the room with Phillip Orwell walking behind him.

  Hazel's boss walked into the room with beads of sweat on his forehead. From his trembling fingers and the fact that his inner office was the most air-conditioned room in the building, she could tell he was nervous.

  "Don Martino, welcome back. How was Italy?" Phillip asked, standing in front of their table.

  Martino replied. "It was great, as always. The boys and I enjoyed being back in our home country."

  Phillip nodded. He was a stout man and could be considered handsome when his brown hair was trimmed. He always wore spectacles, and apparently even when he made love. "I'm sure you did," he said. He waved at Antonio and Nico who in turn waved back at him.

  Martino said, "We're back now. Which means business will resume as usual. I believe you owe me a month's worth of protection money."

  "Yes... yes, I do," Phillip stuttered. "I would have wired the money to you, but the thing is, my previous bar girl got married, so I've had a hard time running the business myself. I also had to employ new staff."

  "Oh, I've seen your new staff. She's pretty. Now that I'm here, I do hope you have my money."

  Hazel could not help but feel bad for Phillip. She did not like him a single bit after what he did, but just watching him cower before the gaze of these gangsters was sad enough.

  He replied, "Yes. I'm sure I could gather what I have and.."

  "Do you, or do you not have his money?" Nico suddenly asked, cutting the bar owner short.

  "Yes, I do," Phillip finally said.

  Martino nodded. The tension in the atmosphere suddenly eased. "Good. Then let's drink."

  Phillip smiled, or rather he had something that resembled a smile on his face. He turned to Hazel. "Get them anything they want."

  "On the house?" Hazel asked.

  He shook his head. "No, of course not. Don Martino and his family are principled people. They always pay for their drinks."

  "Gotcha."

  "I'll be in my office. Let me know the moment they are ready to leave."

  "Hazel watched the door close behind him as he disappeared into the corridor. She assumed he would spend the next hour trying to balance his books and provide money to pay off the cartel.

  "Welcome to Greenville," a soft male voice said behind her.

  She turned to see Antonio Fabrizzi standing behind the bar with a smile on his face. He looked dashing with his squeaky-clean teeth and green eyes.

  "Sorry, what?" she asked in confusion.

  "Welcome to Greenville. You're new in town, ain't you?"

  "Yes, I am. How did you know?"

  "I've been here for a long time. I know almost everyone in town. Where are you from?"

  "I came to Illinois from Kentucky," she lied.

  "Nice," he said, still smiling.

  Just then, Hazel heard something that caught her attention. Martino was speaking loudly to the man called Simone, but it was his words that interested her so much. "The regional leaders have been on my neck since we left. The meeting has to hold pretty soon."

  Simone replied. "Do you want every arm of the organization in attendance?"

  "Yes, of course," Martino said.

  As Hazel strained her ears to listen, she was vaguely aware of Antonio talking to her. "You know, I had a friend in Kentucky once. He moved to Wisconsin with his family a little while back but... "

  "Good for him," she mumbled for his benefit, although her attention was mostly on the conversation going on at the table.

  She heard Antonio let out a sharp breath. "Yea, I guess. Anyway. We make it a tradition to have the same drinks here."

  "And what would you be having?" She could just about make out the rest of Martino's conversation.

  She managed to hear the cartel leader's next words. "I want it to hold tomorrow night. Make sure Phillip has the room ready by then."

  The implications of his words were not lost on her. If there indeed were going to be an important meeting, Mr. Black would most definitely have to be there in person. She realized she just might get her big break sooner than she thought.

  Antonio was saying. "Six glasses of martini. And please we'd prefer vodka in it rather than gin."

  She nodded. "Six glasses of martini coming up. You can have a seat with the rest. I'll bring them over soon."

  He nodded and walked back to sit with the others who were now chattering excitedly about their experience in Milan. Hazel proceeded to make the drinks for them. As she worked, she made plans on what she would tell her superiors in her daily report.

  Once the drinks were ready, she put them in a tray and carried them to their table. Setting a glass in front of each man, she stepped aside and waited for payment. While Nico counted money from a bundle, Don Martino took a sip of the drink. He spat it out like it was made of acid.

  "What the fuck? You bitch, this ain't no vodka. Did you just make my martini with gin?" Martino cried out. His golden eyes fixed on her. He looked ready to slit her throat right there in front of everyone.

  Hazel froze. Her mind suddenly processed Antonio's earlier request for her to make the martini with vodka and not gin. "I'm... I'm... so sorry. I... "

  "It was my fault."

  There was a sudden silence in the room as everyone turned to stare at the man who spoke. It was Antonio. He continued speaking with a straight face. "I told her I wanted a martini but forgot to tell her about the gin. I didn't need to tell the former bar girl because she knew how much you hate gin so, it kinda slipped my mind with the new one. I'm sorry, dad."

  Still fuming, Martino nodded and turned to Hazel. "Take this shit away."

  Hazel could not believe her luck. Neither could she believe Antonio Fabrizzi's kindness. She had been this close to ruining everything. If she had gotten herself fired, everything would have been for nothing. With her hands still shaking uncontrollably, she took away the discarded drinks and hurried back to the bar to make them new ones.

  Chapter 2

  "Weirdo. Come out of there now!"

  Antonio cringes. His legs begin to shake as the three teenage boys outside the bathroom kick at the locked door. The bathroom smells of soap and sewage.

  "You shouldn't have talked back, Antonio. Now you're gonna get it," one of them says.

  The kicking continues. All the doors of the orphanage are old and fragile. The door standing between him and certain pain was looking even worse than all the others. He knows it's only a matter of time before they break in and get to him. There was only one way out.

  He is the only shifter in the orphanage, and as such, he isn't allowed to shift no matter what. But this is an emergency. If only he could get away. The door seems ready to fly off its hinges any second.

  He closes his eyes and reaches out to the animal within him. It has been waiting for him, tired of sleeping for so long. It is eager to get out. Antonio lets him out.

  He feels his entire body transform in an instant. Seconds later, he is down on all fours staring at the door. He is a panther now, black, slender, and alert. He runs straight at the door and crashes into it.

&nb
sp; The boys get struck by the flying door and fall over each other. Antonio takes one glance at them before running away through the corridor. He is heading straight for his room at the end of the corridor. He makes a left turn. He is very fast, and pretty soon he can no longer hear them running after him. He is safe. Something solid strikes him hard on his side and sends him crashing against the corridor wall.

  Antonio was struggling to get to his feet. His panther nose smells Mr. Webster's disgusting cologne even before he sees the man.

  "You son of a bitch!" screams Mr. Webster. The man lands another kick against his side. "What did I tell you about using your freak powers in my orphanage?"

  Antonio tries to explain, but his words can only come out as growls. Mr. Webster kicks harder and harder. The last thing Antonio is conscious of is the pain he feels when he gets a kick to the head. After that, the world goes dark.

  He is in his room now, or rather, the room he shares with four other boys his age. The kids are playing with the "new" toys donated to the orphanage and shared among the children. The manager, Mr. Webster did not give him any, however.

  "You'll probably tear the head off the action figure before Christmas. No toys for you cat boy," he had said.

  The other kids hated him and would not play with him, so he lies in bed, alone and hurting from the wounds inflicted on him by Mr. Webster's boots.

  "Antonio Rossi?" a voice calls out from the open doorway. Mr. Webster made the boys leave their doors open, even when they were asleep.

  "Yes?" he replies.

  "Mr. Webster wants to see you."

  His heart starts to race. What could he have done wrong this time? And to think he had been extra careful to stay away from trouble. The short walk from his room to the manager's office was the longest of his eight-year-long life.

  When he enters the office, he meets Mr. Webster laughing out loud, apparently to the jokes of another man whom Antonio had seen before. The man wore a hat that looked too small for his heavy frame. The man smiles warmly at him.