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“Exhausted. That will be easy.” Chella smoothed the wrinkles in her long skirt. “I’ve never been this tired.”
While the EMTs fussed over Chella, Brandy took Dylan into the kitchen, got him a glass of water, and sat him down at the table. She pulled out the chair next to him and lowered into it. Drumming her fingers on the table, she struggled with if and how to tell Dylan about what Reardon was.
Finally Dylan looked up at her and said, “Just say it. I’m not a little kid, Mom.”
He was right, of course. He hadn’t been a little kid for a while, and she knew that, but was revealing that werewolves were real an easy discussion at any age? She hadn’t had a problem with it. Then again, she’d been secretly studying lycanthropy for years. Hadn’t a part of her brain accepted the possibility that all those case studies were real evidence of the paranormal? Hadn’t shewantedit all to be true?
Hell, yeah.And now that she knew Reardon existed, she couldn’t let him get away. Dylan had been the central focus of her life all this time, and if she wanted to add Reardon—if she’d beallowedto add Reardon—she needed to tell her son everything.
“You love Alator, right?” Brandy began as she rested her hand on Dylan’s shoulder.
“Yeah. He’s my favorite of all the wolves though he’s been with us the shortest amount of time. I don’t know. He’s… he’s special.” Dylan pushed his glass of water away and turned to face Brandy more fully.
“Special. That’s exactly the right word for Alator.” She pictured that huge wolf defending her against Hank Swift. She envisioned snuggling up to Alator and the comfort he brought. She imagined those green-gold eyes, full of affection, wisdom, and fierce loyalty. “You like Reardon too, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Dylan said. “He’s cool. Without him, we would have been road kill in town.”
“Right.”Here goes.“So remember when you said Reardon had eyes like Alator’s?”
Dylan nodded.
“Well…” Brandy searched her brain for the right words, but they wouldn’t come. What were the right words to tell a ten-year old boy that the wolf he loved and the man he thought was cool were the same?
A picture is worth a thousand words.She set her phone on the table, pulled up the security camera footage, and slid the phone over to Dylan.
“Press play and then we’ll talk.”
Dylan picked up the phone and tapped the screen. He focused with rapt attention, not saying anything as Reardon—unfortunately a naked Reardon—led the wolves to the entrance gates. He didn’t blink as Reardon set foot beyond the gates, crouched, and shifted.
The video ended and Brandy had no idea what was going through Dylan’s head. The boy’s facial expression hadn’t changed from beginning to end of the video.
“Dylan?”
Still the kid stared at the screen.
Brandy reached out and touched Dylan’s hand resting on the table by her phone. “Baby, what do you have to say about this? You must have questions.”
Slowly, Dylan’s blue-eyed gaze met hers. His eyebrows rose and this look of pure glee swept over his face. “Reardon really is a SUPERHERO!”
Comic books. The kid thought Reardon was a comic book character.
Brandy wrestled with that for a few seconds then searched Dylan’s face for any signs of fear or non-acceptance of what he’d viewed on the video. Finding none, she said, “Yeah, I guess he is sort of like a superhero. He’s certainly saved us and he definitely has a special power.”
“He can turn into a wolf! That’s the coolest, Mom!” Dylan popped out of his chair. “You told Parker that someone has Reardon, right? An angry goddess?”
“Apowerful, angry goddess.” Brandy rubbed her temples, wondering what the hell her next steps should be.
She looked up when Dylan’s hands rested on her shoulders. “Mom, this is so just like a comic book. Now it’s our turn to save him.”
“Honey, I want to. Believe me, I want to, but I’m not sure how.”
“I know how,” Chella said.
Brandy turned to find Chella standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Parker was right behind her, looking a little more relaxed no doubt because his fiancée was back on her feet and not looking so pale anymore.
“What do you mean?” Brandy stood now too.
“I have a message,” Chella said. “From Flidae.”
