That’s not a bad idea.”
Laura was glad to have given him at least one option, though she couldn’t help wondering how happy he’d really be spending his life fixing other people’s roofs and sinks.
He went on, “Anyway, the place I woke up in turned out to not actually be a hospital. Or not only a hospital…”
She listened, fascinated, as he recounted his escape from the hospital-laboratory.
“You know the rest,” he concluded. “I didn’t want to tell you too much, in case that put you at risk. But you already knew the most dangerous parts. I’m sorry I brought trouble down on you.”
“What, you mean that guy—that werewolf—who tried to kidnap me? Do you think he was from the lab? And was really after you?”
“Unless you know any werewolves other than me…”
“I might.” She told him about the wolf that had menaced her on the way here. “But it wasn’t the same wolf. And it didn’t transform. It was just, you know, a creepy attack wolf. So you tell me what’s going on.”
The grim cast to Roy’s face lightened a little. “Got me. You now know everything I know about werewolves.”
“You need to talk to DJ,” Laura suggested. “Or his family. They might know what’s wrong with you. They might even know how to fix it.”
Roy rubbed his forehead, looking frustrated. “I know. But it’s complicated. I’m worried that if I call or email them, the lab people might be listening in. If they don’t already know about DJ, I don’t want to tip them off. I especially don’t want to tip them off that DJ’s whole family are werewolves. And if those lab people are after me, they’re definitely watching the guys on my fire team, and probably their families, too.”
“It’s a lot more labor-intensive to monitor people in person than it is to tap their phones,” Laura pointed out. “I bet you’d be safe if you drove to wherever they are and caught them away from their home.”
She immediately worried that she’d said too much. Would a normal, non-criminal person know about that sort of thing?
“That makes sense,” Roy said, to her relief. “Then all I need to do is get down to San Diego.”
“I’ll drive you,” Laura offered.
“Really?”
“I have to go back south anyway. I live in Los Angeles. It’s only two hours farther. If we leave in the morning, we’ll get there while it’s still day and there’s no street lights.”
For the first time since he’d begun telling Laura his story, Roy relaxed. His grip, which had been getting slippery with sweat, slid free. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You can make me a fancy omelet tomorrow,” she said lightly. “If you’re up to it.”
“I’ll make you anything you like,” he promised.
The conversation turned to easier topics: favorite breakfasts, favorite movies, favorite books. Laura fetched a stack of Dad’s books from the bedroom for Roy to look through. He started leafing through Shadow Divers , a nonfiction book about wreck divers exploring a sunken WWII submarine, then turned to the beginning, leaned back, and began reading. Laura watched him for a while, thinking he’d soon put it down and start talking again, but he didn’t. She didn’t feel like re-starting the minion book, so she picked up a private eye novel, G is for Gumshoe .
Laura had never sat side by side and read with someone before, though she’d watched TV and movies with friends and boyfriends. It felt cozy, especially with the snow swirling outside the windows and the fire burning in the hearth.
Her attention drifted from her book periodically, though Roy seemed absorbed in his. She was distractingly aware of his physical presence, so much so that she could sense every inch of the empty space between them. She could still feel an imagined pressure on her hand, as if his fingers had left imprints in her flesh. She kept tuning into his breathing. Every tiny shift of his body caught her attention.
She turned a page, in case he
Laura was glad to have given him at least one option, though she couldn’t help wondering how happy he’d really be spending his life fixing other people’s roofs and sinks.
He went on, “Anyway, the place I woke up in turned out to not actually be a hospital. Or not only a hospital…”
She listened, fascinated, as he recounted his escape from the hospital-laboratory.
“You know the rest,” he concluded. “I didn’t want to tell you too much, in case that put you at risk. But you already knew the most dangerous parts. I’m sorry I brought trouble down on you.”
“What, you mean that guy—that werewolf—who tried to kidnap me? Do you think he was from the lab? And was really after you?”
“Unless you know any werewolves other than me…”
“I might.” She told him about the wolf that had menaced her on the way here. “But it wasn’t the same wolf. And it didn’t transform. It was just, you know, a creepy attack wolf. So you tell me what’s going on.”
The grim cast to Roy’s face lightened a little. “Got me. You now know everything I know about werewolves.”
“You need to talk to DJ,” Laura suggested. “Or his family. They might know what’s wrong with you. They might even know how to fix it.”
Roy rubbed his forehead, looking frustrated. “I know. But it’s complicated. I’m worried that if I call or email them, the lab people might be listening in. If they don’t already know about DJ, I don’t want to tip them off. I especially don’t want to tip them off that DJ’s whole family are werewolves. And if those lab people are after me, they’re definitely watching the guys on my fire team, and probably their families, too.”
“It’s a lot more labor-intensive to monitor people in person than it is to tap their phones,” Laura pointed out. “I bet you’d be safe if you drove to wherever they are and caught them away from their home.”
She immediately worried that she’d said too much. Would a normal, non-criminal person know about that sort of thing?
“That makes sense,” Roy said, to her relief. “Then all I need to do is get down to San Diego.”
“I’ll drive you,” Laura offered.
“Really?”
“I have to go back south anyway. I live in Los Angeles. It’s only two hours farther. If we leave in the morning, we’ll get there while it’s still day and there’s no street lights.”
For the first time since he’d begun telling Laura his story, Roy relaxed. His grip, which had been getting slippery with sweat, slid free. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You can make me a fancy omelet tomorrow,” she said lightly. “If you’re up to it.”
“I’ll make you anything you like,” he promised.
The conversation turned to easier topics: favorite breakfasts, favorite movies, favorite books. Laura fetched a stack of Dad’s books from the bedroom for Roy to look through. He started leafing through Shadow Divers , a nonfiction book about wreck divers exploring a sunken WWII submarine, then turned to the beginning, leaned back, and began reading. Laura watched him for a while, thinking he’d soon put it down and start talking again, but he didn’t. She didn’t feel like re-starting the minion book, so she picked up a private eye novel, G is for Gumshoe .
Laura had never sat side by side and read with someone before, though she’d watched TV and movies with friends and boyfriends. It felt cozy, especially with the snow swirling outside the windows and the fire burning in the hearth.
Her attention drifted from her book periodically, though Roy seemed absorbed in his. She was distractingly aware of his physical presence, so much so that she could sense every inch of the empty space between them. She could still feel an imagined pressure on her hand, as if his fingers had left imprints in her flesh. She kept tuning into his breathing. Every tiny shift of his body caught her attention.
She turned a page, in case he
Similar Books
