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Werewolves?
Reardon turned his attention to the TV where the boy was walking along a gray beach with the girl. He was telling her something about a legend and descendants of wolves.
“You have to wait until the next movie to see him turn into a wolf though.” She pointed to the boy. “They did a pretty good job with the wolves, special effects-wise. At least I think so. Don’t ask Parker though. He’ll completely disagree and make fun of this entire series.” She let out a small laugh. “He’s probably right to make fun. Someone my age shouldn’t find these movies entertaining, but I can’t help myself. In fact…”
She wiggled herself out of the bean bag chair and jogged out of the room. When she returned, she had her laptop with her.
“I want to show you something.” She opened the laptop and lowered back into the bean bag chair, shifting around until she was comfortable. After tapping the keyboard for a few moments, she turned the screen toward him. “So, I’ve been collecting information on clinical lycanthropy for years. Silly, right?” She waved her hand. “Well, I don’t care if it is silly. It’s my secret hobby. No one knows except you, Alator, and you won’t tell anyone, will you?”
As she petted him and scrolled through the information, Reardon skimmed the text on the screen. Words likeshifting humans,metamorphosis, transition,andcanine formpopped out at him.
“Most of the research concludes that people who believe they can change from human to animal are crazy, but still it’s all so fascinating.” She scratched between Reardon’s ears. “The notion of a human and an animal inhabiting the same consciousness is wild. I imagine it must be confusing.”
Only when a beautiful woman is involved.
Chapter Thirteen
Brandy read through a few more pages of her secret clinical lycanthropy file then snapped her laptop shut. She put the computer on the floor beside the bean bag chair and turned to face Alator.
“You must thinkI’mcrazy. It’s completely foolish to want lycanthropy to be real. What the hell kind of scientist am I? A science fiction scientist apparently.” She puffed out a long breath and put her attention back onto Bella and Jacob filling the screen. “I have to stop watching this shit too. Doesn’t help me stay in the real world.”
She picked up the remote and went back to the TV’s guide screen, but Alator put his massive paw on her thigh. Again, she was reminded of Reardon’s big hand on her stomach last night.
Last night. When we were both naked. Together.
Not at all like tonight when Reardon stood her up. He could have at least called to say he wasn’t interested in coming over anymore.
“Wait a minute.” She looked down at Alator’s paw on her thigh. “I didn’t give Reardon my number, did I?” Poor guy had no way to contact her if he’d had to cancel. Maybe… maybe something happened to him. “Oh, no.” She hated that thought, but it made sense. Not that the only reason a guy would stand her up was because something horrendous had happened to him, but Reardon didn’t seem like an asshole who wouldn’t show. True, she’d only known him for a day. He could be so many things she didn’t even know about yet, but a jerk didn’t seem like a possibility.
Not the way he made love to her. As if she were a treasured gift or something.
She grabbed her phone off the coffee table as she putTwilightback on, seeing as how Alator had been letting out small whines since she’d changed the channel. “What, are you in love with Bella too?”
Alator swung his head away from the TV, his green-gold gaze connecting with hers as his head tilted one way then the other. Was he trying to tell her something? If so, what?
Shaking her head over thinking a wolf was attempting to communicate with her, she tapped her phone and found the number she was looking for.
“Canville Police and Fire Department,” the night operator said in a sleepy voice.
“Colleen, hello. It’s Brandy. And you realize you answered your own cell phone, not the Canville Police and Fire Department line, right?”
“Hey, Brandy. Uhh, yeah. ‘Canville Police and Fire Department’ rolls out of my mouth whenever a phone rings. Sorry. What’s up? Is that nasty Hank Swift up to no good again? I can have a unit out there in record time to haul his ass into town.” Colleen was always full of fire.
“No. Nothing with Hank, but I was wondering if you could check the records and tell me if any ambulances were sent out today.”
“Sure, but why?”
Tapping sounded and Brandy knew Colleen was typing on her computer, looking up the ambulance calls. It paid to have a buddy who answered the phones at the town’s safety complex.
“Someone was supposed to meet me tonight and he didn’t show. I want to make sure he’s okay.”
“And that he didn’t stand you up. I don’t see how anyone could stand you up, chickie. You’re freaking gorgeous and if you’d come over tomyteam, we could be happy for the rest of our lives.”
“You know I love you, Colleen, but I can’t be with someone who is prettier than me.”
Colleen barked out a laugh that made Brandy have to hold the phone away from her ear and laugh along. “Slick, Wendon. Really slick. Okay, according to today’s log, no ambulances went out today. I also checked the police files and it was a low crime day. Two parking tickets, one minor fender-bender with no injuries reported, and a formal complaint filed against one Hank T. Swift by one Dr. Parker I’d-Do-Him-If-I-Wasn’t-Gay Daniels, but I assume you knew about that last one because your name is mentioned in the complaint.”
The line went quiet for a moment, and Brandy assumed Colleen was reading the details of the complaint.
