Uninvited

Uninvited

“Get out of here, Rumlow,” said Wanda. “We don’t want you around.”

“Yeah,” Darcy chimed in, “aren’t you supposed to be terrorizing some seals today?”

Rumlow smiled a little too nicely. “Ladies, please. I’m not here to cause trouble. I just came to see my dear little sister and her pup. I gotta say, it was quite a shock when I found out. She didn’t even tell me she was bred.”

Darcy blurted, “You know she can’t have babies, you—” and was cut off by Wanda’s elbow landing in her ribs. She bit her lip, looking thoroughly embarrassed. Rumlow’s grin widened to a toothy leer.

“Natasha doesn’t wanna see you,” Wanda said icily. “You’ve been dead to her ever since you joined Hydra, so why don’t you leave us alone and go find a rotting carcass to chew on?”

Rumlow made a sad face. It was about as believable as the Loch Ness monster. “You’re so mean to me, Wanda. Tasha’s the only family I have.”

We are her family now,” said Darcy, her tail crackling with electricity. “You don’t need to worry about her anymore, so just turn around and leave.”

“Or what?” Rumlow sneered. “You’ll zap me? Cast a spell and turn me into a barnacle? Oh, I’m simply shaking in my scales. Woe is me, what ever shall I do.”

The two mermaids glared at Rumlow hatefully.

“I’m the commander of Hydra’s most elite fighting unit,” he said, flexing his claws—and every other muscle he had, just to show them how big and intimidating he could be. “You wanna drag them into this? It wouldn’t take much to get you witches banished to the abyss. The only reason you’re free at all is because of my sister.”

“You call this freedom?” Wanda spat. “Living on the outskirts for using magic, scavenging for food like a pack of desperate bottom-feeders, afraid to show our faces anywhere near your wretched city? Yeah, some freedom. To hell with Hydra.”

“At least you’re alive to complain about how hard you have it,” said Rumlow. “You stupid shrimps decided to take this path. Don’t blame me for your poor choices.”

Darcy bared her teeth. “Get out.”

Rumlow bared his. “Not until I see my sister.”

“I’m right here, Brock.”

All eyes turned to Natasha, floating at the cave’s entrance. In her arms she held the infant Bucky, who appeared to be just waking from a nap. He grunted cutely and squirmed.

Rumlow grinned and thrust his powerful tail, propelling himself to her side. “Well, well,” he said, peering down at the baby. “What a healthy, bright-eyed pup you have here, Tasha. So helpless and vulnerable. How old is it?”

Fear and anger had turned Natasha’s face into a grim mask. “About a year,” she said as steadily as she could. “And it’s a he.”

“Is that so? How sweet. May I hold him?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Natasha reluctantly passed the drowsy infant to Rumlow, who cradled him in his muscular arms.

“Does he have a name?” he asked.

Natasha gulped down her nausea. “Bucky.”

“Bucky. Hello, little Bucky.” Rumlow carefully stroked the baby’s soft, plump belly with his clawed fingertips. Bucky mewed and wiggled, blinking his large blue eyes. He looked up at Rumlow and gurgled.

Natasha watched, every nerve in her body alive and prickling with dread. If Rumlow wanted to kill the child, he could do it in the blink of an eye. There was nothing in the world to stop him.

But he didn’t. He smiled at Bucky and bounced him gently in his arms, petted his wavy strands of fine brown hair. “Where did he come from?”

“Uh …” Darcy began, sharing a frantic look with Wanda.

“Someone left him in our garden,” said Natasha coolly. “About two months ago.”

Wanda, who was on the verge of tears by this point, couldn’t bear another moment of this torture and buried her face in her hands.

Bucky reached up and wrapped his fat little fist around Rumlow’s finger, cooing softly.

“He’s one of the dolphin folk,” said Rumlow, and looked up at Natasha seriously. “You know Hydra would love to get their hands on him.”

“Oh, please,” cried Wanda, flitting over to Darcy and clinging to her. “Please don’t take him away from us, Rumlow! We love him.”

“I know,” said Rumlow, and sighed. “That’s why the best place for him is right here.” He passed the babe back to Natasha, mindful of his claws, and gave the small gray tail one last playful tug. “He’ll be safer with you three. Keep him hidden. Don’t let him outta your sight for a second.”

Darcy, whose face had gone as white as sugar sand, couldn’t have looked more surprised than if she’d been slapped with a halibut. “You’re not … you mean you’re not gonna tell on us? Ow, Wanda, you’re crushing my hand!”

Rumlow shook his head, and Natasha could have sworn she saw something in his eyes that looked like compassion. “No,” he said, “your secret’s safe with me.” He turned to leave, and gave one last lingering look at Bucky, wriggling in his sister’s arms like a happy tadpole. “Take care of that little pup,” he said sadly. “He’s got rough seas in his future.”