Piranha Paprazzi
Collin clung to me as we left school grounds, which was difficult, because he was now much taller than me. Worse still, now there were reporters outside. Dylan led the way in front of his brother as Rudy rushed to the door, FBI agents trying to help keep a tide of piranhas back from smelling blood in the water.?
“Did you really conceal a bitten child from the school district?”
“Are any of the other children in danger of turning?”
“Why did the FBIDWC work against Principal Halsey in containing the situation?”
“We received word that the SWAT team was called off, is there any explanation on why the lives of so many children would be endangered for the life of one werewolf?”
“Will the FBI be arresting Mrs. Sylvia Lake?”
“Miss,” I snapped. “I’m not married.”
As if that was the one thing that mattered.
“Don’t answer,” Rudy said immediately, as more reporters tried to bate me into answering their questions. Joke’s on them- their voices all crashed into each other and made it significantly harder to understand any of them. “Come on. We need to get you guys into the car.”
“Mom,” Collin whispered, “what are we going to do?”
“Shhh,” I said, squeezing his enormous clawed hand. “Come on. Get in the car. We’ll go get Lucy, and then we’ll head home.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Rudy said grimly. “I figure it’s a good idea to get everyone together. I’ll give Lucy’s school a call and let them know you’re picking her up.”
“Thanks, Rudy,” I said, already exhausted.
The drive was quiet. Rudy stayed on me, and I could tell that several of the reporters were going to follow us every step of the way. Fortunately, so was a gaggle of FBIDWC agents, so at least we had backup.
When we arrived at Lucy’s elementary school, Rudy had to stay with the car, trying to block the boys from the incessant photography. I charged in to sign Lucy out of school, and when I came back, Rudy was doubled over in laughter with several very disgruntled photographers nearby, no longer taking shots.
“Ask Dylan,” Rudy said, when I shot him a questioning look. We piled into the car, and both Collin and Dylan were snickering to themselves, which was a relief, because Collin seemed to have finally relaxed somewhat.
“What did you do?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I mooned the reporters,” Dylan snickered. “They wanted a full moon event, so I gave them one.”
“What’s mooning?” Lucy asked immediately.
“Stuck his butt out in the window,” Collin cackled. “Rolled it down and everything. Now the reporters can’t use any of those photos, and they all had to stop taking pictures because Dylan’s a minor.”
“I want to stick my butt out a window,” Lucy immediately shouted.
“No butts!” I shot back. “No more butts, anyway. You’re lucky this is a weird day, or you’d so totally be busted for a stunt like that, Dylan.”
There were several minutes of silence as we drove.
“Mom?” Lucy finally asked.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why's Collin turning into a rug?”
It was going to be a very long day.
We got ice cream, which turned out to be incredibly difficult for Collin to consume, on account of his brand new fangs. Rudy followed me home, and it seemed he’d pulled a few strings, because we had a nice squadron of police officers to help us get in past all of the reporters.
“I’ll give you another full moon if you keep messing with my brother,” Dylan threatened over his shoulder.
“Nice parenting,” a reporter shouted.
“Piss off,” I returned, before Rudy pushed us all up the stairs and away from the cameras.
Our apartment was one of the last ones on the top floor. Rudy had draped his suit jacket- one of the five million that I was sure he owned, all of them identical- over Collin, so he had some level of protection. Even so, I was sure that someone was going to see us, and as most apartments these days were “anti-werewolf”, that… was going to have to be a bridge we crossed when we got there.
All five of us collapsed into the small, two bedroom apartment. It felt even smaller with Rudy there, and I was very aware of just how crammed everything felt. The kitchen was right off the living room, with a tiny table crammed in under a window almost right up against the stove. My bed was actually the couch, which was one of those pull-out kinds.
It was all I could afford with three kids, two of which were a couple of eleven-year-olds that seemed like they were always starving.
“Sit wherever,” I said awkwardly, gesturing to Rudy. He looked around with a sort of sad look on his face, then quietly took a seat on the couch-bed.
“So what the hell is going on?” Collin asked, trying to drape Rudy’s jacket over a chair and flinching when his claws ripped a hole in the side. “I… I’m so sorry-“
“Don’t worry,” Rudy said, with all the kindness he could muster. “You’re the easiest case I’ve had in a long time, kiddo. I normally deal with the deadly bunch. One little hole in a jacket is leagues better than my daily work.”
Collin looked relieved, and I dropped into a chair, trying to figure out where to start.
“Lucy, sweetheart,” I said, “do you want to show Agent Rodriguez your doll’s new collection of outfits?”
Lucy’s face lit up. She looked a lot like me, with the same red, lightly curling hair spilling around her head. She ran off to grab the little trunk I’d found while yard sailing for clothes, and all the little outfits I’d either thrifted, or crocheted during late nights.
Rudy beautifully took the hint and kept Lucy busy, asking detailed questions about her dolls, and I turned to the expectant and grim Dylan and Collin.
“So,” Dylan said, crossing his arms. “Mom and Dad. The, uh… the dead ones.”
I winced. “Yes. My sister and her husband. They died eleven years ago.”
“You’ve told us that,” Collin growled. He looked dismayed, clearing his throat as he tried to talk again. “Car… car accident.”
“Not quite true.” I leaned back. “It was a werewolf attack.”
Eleven years prior, I had gone to a celebratory dinner with my parents, my sister, and her brand new husband. The birth of Marie’s twins was just around the corner, and we were all toasting the start to her next chapter.
My parents had gone with Marie and her husband, Roger, in their car. On the way home, one red light separated us.
It was about a ten minute wait. I could still vividly see it, years and years later. I sat at that light, drumming my fingers along the top of the wheel of the car I was still driving a decade later, thinking how nice it must have been to have someone you could love that much. Someone with whom you wanted to have kids with. Someone to build a family with.
Ten minutes was all it took.
An unchecked, unregistered, unlicensed werewolf smashed into my sister’s car on the road. He was freshly turned and it was a full moon; he was brutal, at the height of his strength, and full of blind blood lust.
I was told, later, that it was Roger who tried to distract the beast from his wife. He went down first, torn to literal pieces. My parents were next, desperate to save their heavily pregnant eldest daughter… and their unborn grandbabies.
Marie was last. By then mostly satiated, he still ripped into her, leaving behind enormous, venom-packed bites that began to take effect on her dying body.
I was the one who discovered them.
The ambulance arrived too late to save anyone, but they rushed Marie to the hospital. Kept on life support, they were able to deliver the twins, but the venom by then had transferred itself vertically through my sister’s veins.
“Why isn’t Dylan like this?” Collin demanded, when I had given them the still-edited version of the true events. “Why isn’t Dylan changing?”
“It’s reliant on puberty,” I said tiredly. “And even then, there’s no guarantee that Dylan will change, too. There’s a chance that he didn’t absorb the venom. There was a strong chance that neither of you had, but once it’s been absorbed, it’s nearly impossible to detect until puberty.”
“How the hell does that work?” Dylan was frowning. “When people are bit, they know right away.”
“Yes, but you weren’t bit,” I reminded them. “What’s school taught you about second generation werewolves?”
“They’re different from first gens,” Collin said immediately, like he was quoting a text boo. “Calmer. The venom genetically modifies and alters the infected’s DNA, but the process isn’t complete or detectable without extremely invasive testing.”
“Injecting silver into the bloodstream,” Dylan added.
“Precisely. And injecting silver into the bloodstream of literal children is not exactly on anyone’s bucket list,” I said dryly. “The two of you function- or would function- like second generation werewolves. You were potentially born with the venom already in your DNA, meaning your bodies would have at least ten years to modify and acclimate to the virus. Your transformation, therefore, is puberty based. I was told I could expect any transformation, if one was to happen, between the ages of 11 and 13.”
“So I could still change?” Dylan’s face lit up.
“You don’t want this,” Collin said, and drool slid down his chin. He wiped furiously at it with one clawed hand. “Dude, this sucks. How long am I stuck like this?”
I hesitated, and it was Rudy who answered.
“I hope you’re seated,” he said, “because you’re not going to like the answer.”
Collin’s mutated face fell. “Why?”
“You have to figure it out yourself,” I said gently. “Puberty-based transformations don’t wear off. You… you have to figure out how to control it, and force it down.”
“Oh, God,” Dylan said for Collin, because Collin had gone mute with total horror.
“The good news is that that means your transformations will become fully controllable,” Rudy called over. “The bad news is that it can take up to two years for you to figure it out. Maybe even longer.”
Collin gripped the table so hard, a piece of the wood broke off.
“It’s okay,” I said quickly, as he looked down at it in total despair. “Look, everything’s going to be fine. We have a home, I have… I’ll get a new job, we’ll get you enrolled in a better school, everything’s going to be fine.”
“What happened to your job?” Dylan asked, frowning.
“Was this why Jackson left?” Collin asked suddenly.
The room got very quiet. Lucy looked up with eyes wide, and I gave Collin a warning look.
Collin, however, was deep in a lot of very difficult feelings. “It is, isn’t it?” He asked, staring at me. “He left because you told him.”
I hesitated.
“What’s this outfit for?” Rudy asked loudly, and Lucy was momentarily diverted.
“Jackson left because he wanted to leave,” I said quietly. “I was… stupid.” I gripped the table. Another of a thousand and one mistakes. “When I was pregnant with Lucy, I thought… I thought he was excited. I thought he’d ask me to marry him. He was so good with you two. I thought…” I shook my head. “I was wrong. He was looking for any excuse to take off, once I got pregnant.”
“But you did tell him, then,” Dylan said, frown deepening. “You told him, but not us?”
I looked down. “It made me nervous. I panicked. When he left, I was… confused. I was scared to tell the two of you.” I looked back up, pained. “I’m sorry. It was selfish and stupid. I’ve made a lot of mistakes; kids don’t come with instructions, and moms don’t really get manuals.”
Dylan’s expression softened, and Collin put his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, before bursting into tears.
“Me, too, kiddo,” I said softly, rubbing his back.
And then there was a knock at the door.