Page 82 of Hoofin’ It

“No.”

“Don’t be cruel.”

“You filled a box with glitter and armed it with a can of compressed air. You have no grounds to complain about cruelty.”

“But we bought you a new vacuum.”

Still on the couch, my mother laughed. “You even got most of it out of your carpet. I’m impressed, Shane.”

“Why are you here?”

“We received an interesting phone call last night and were offered a pair of plane tickets. We thought we’d accept the invitation, as you’ve neglected us horribly. Also, you’ve been cheating on us, and we demand to know what exactly is going on.”

On second thought, murder was far too nice a fate for Ernesto. I couldn’t think of anyone else in Chicago bold or evil enough to contact my parents and inflict them on me—or to have the audacity to compete with a werewolf over his son. “Escape while you can, Marian.”

“It’s too late. We already handcuffed your woman to your kitchen chair,” Dad growled.

“They really did, Shane. They caught me by surprise. They thought I was a burgular. I decided not to fight against the cranky hybrid werewolf and accept my handcuffing with dignity. Have you considered having your father checked for rabies? He was frothing.”

How had I missed hearing that nonsense during my shower? The pipes weren’t that noisy. I was still on the wrong side of barely conscious. “Did you knock on the door, Dad?”

“We did. She answered it.”

“Why would a burgular answer the door when someone knocked?”

Dad snorted. “Don’t get smart with me, boy.”

“You handcuffed an FBI agent to my chair. Are you trying to get me arrested?”

“It’s your fault you didn’t notify us there’d be a woman inhabiting your space.”

No matter what I said, I was doomed. “How have you not figured out I’m a grown man? I may have invited her over to spare her from trying to find a hotel after midnight in Chicago. I can invite a lady over to my apartment if I want to.”

Marian giggled. “Sorry, Shane. I knew better and still opened the door.”

I couldn’t get mad at her if I wanted to. My parents had a tendency to worm their way into their victim’s affections, and Marian would become their prey soon enough. A better man would’ve suggested she run, but it was too late. When my parents hunted, nothing stopped them. Anyway, it served me well.

I intended to keep her for a long time, and if she couldn’t escape my busybody parents, she couldn’t escape me, either.

I grunted and squirmed beneath my father. “Why are you here?”

“Why did one of Chicago’s most notorious crime lords call me at eight in the evening to thank me for siring the beautiful man he is honored to call his dear boy?” Dad snarled in my ear.

“Don’t forget the part about being tricked into eating drugged food so he’d lose his virginity,” Mom added.

“He’d already lost his virginity, Mrs. Gibson. We were merely getting in some practice.”

Practice? For what? Testing the limits of endurance and inducing a coma-like state? If that was the goal, we’d succeeded. I sighed and regarded the doorway to my bedroom longingly. Between Ernesto and Marian, I had no hope of escaping my situation with my dignity intact. Marian didn’t sound too bothered by my parents or being handcuffed. If anything, she sounded amused at my expense.

I found her ability to handle my parents at their worst promising.

“And how would you know that?” Mom growled.

“Let’s just say you have just cause to be very proud of your son. I look forward to future practice sessions with him.”

Any other time, I would have savored the sound of stunned silence.

“Please kill me, Dad. If you’ve ever loved me, please kill me now,” I whispered.