Chapter Eighteen
Held in Frank’s secure brace, Amie glanced at the children on the playground equipment. One of the dark-haired boys resembled her son. It had been several days since she’d seen her François. She missed him. He was more than delighted to stay longer with his “adopted” grandparents. With them, he got to play outside with others his age and do fun things all day.
Not to mention, his “issue” with fur erupting from his skin and claws growing from his fingers didn’t bother the Natives. They treated him as special. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t help but worry how being different would affect his socializing and making friends.
She hoped the strange incidents would just go away. If she had to take him to a specialist, she wouldn’t know where to begin. What if some scientist wanted to experiment on her child and took him away from her? Grandpa and Nana Running Wind assured her that her son was fine. It was normal for someone like him. Her brain refused to believe humans could turn into an animal. No matter what her eyes told her.
The boy on the playground reached the top of the slide, but his foot slid off the step and he lost his balance. She saw what was coming. She tore from Frank in a headlong race against time and gravity. If she could soften his landing in any way, she might save the child’s life.
Skidding on the sandy ground, she was able to stretch far enough to grab an arm, turning the headfirst plunge into a smack down on the child’s side. The boy wailed instantly from being hurt and scared from the fall.
On the ground, Amie reached out to carefully check him for broken bones. She saw his little hand change into claws exactly like she’d seen on her son. The claws swiped toward her face, ready to gouge out skin and eyes. Amie’s hand snapped up, catching the child’s flailing arm like she had to with her boy.
A second later, Scarlet was there, scooping the boy into her arms, quieting him. The child’s hand had returned to normal. But she knew she saw it. Knew it was exactly like her son’s. Stunned by the realization, she remained on the ground, watching mom and child, until Frank picked her up and set her on a bench.
He brushed hair from her forehead. “Are you okay? You scared me, diving like that at a steel ladder.”
Her eyes settled on his calm face. “Did you see his hand? Did you see it change into claws? I know I saw it.” She grabbed on to his shirt. “Tell me you saw it.”
Frank frowned and looked over his shoulder at the ladies gathering around. “Frank,” Susan said, “does she not know about us? Have you seriously not told her what you are?”
Amie whipped her head around to the woman speaking. “What do you mean what he is?” Did he lie about being a special agent? She didn’t understand.
Frank wiped a hand down his face. “Uh, Amie. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Her heart raced. What was wrong with him? Did he have cancer and was dying? Was he married? What the hell was going on? Cheryl sat on the bench next to Amie, laying a hand on hers. “It’s all right. Really. Just something that takes getting used to, and everything will be fine. You two can mate and—”
“Mate? As in sex?” Amie said. Made it sound like something animals did to procreate and that was it. Wham-bam-thank-you-four-legged-creature. Eww.
Susan plopped next to her on the other side of the bench. “Don’t listen to her. She’s into the wild side of it all. We are what you call shifters. We change into animals.” Amie jumped up. The two ladies pulled her down to be seated. “There’s more.”
“You all are crazy. People can’t do that.”
Susan lifted her hand and it changed into a bear paw with lots of brown fur. Amie gasped. Cheryl’s forearm was covered with shiny black fur ending in a catlike paw. “Oh my god,” Amie said. “I’m crazy, too.”
Scarlet walked up to them with a sniffling young head on her shoulder. He held his hand out and it turned into golden fur with claws—exactly like her son’s.
Oh my god. It was real. These people could really do what Grandpa Running Wind had said. Oh my god. She gasped. Her son was normal for their kind. Oh my god. Frank was a shifter. She looked at him.
“I’m a cougar. So is Mom.” The last time she’d heard that word flashed in her mind. The older lady at the beauty salon said she was a cougar. A laughed ripped from her stomach. That was the funniest thing she’d ever thought.
Between bouts of laughing, she said, “Sherri is a wolf, right? And Alice—” She slapped her knee and leaned back laughing. “She is a rabbit. Oh my god. This is great.”
But the best part was that her son was fine. He had no strange disease that would kill him at a young age or eat his mind until he was comatose. Her son was going to be all right. Oh, shit, though. What was considered all right in their world? She had a lot to learn. Better yet, she and her son needed to live here so they were surrounded by his own kind. But what would Frank think if he knew he had a son? Did he even want children? Would he leave her if he knew?
Would he run, screaming, saying he wasn’t ready for this kind of commitment? His job kept him busy all days and hours of the week. Would he ever be home?
By the look on Frank’s face, he was more than worried. She was just told the sky was green and she believed it. Maybe something inside her hoped so much that her son was okay that if this was how that was going to happen, then by golly, shifters would be more real than people.
She searched the faces around her and said the only thing she knew would make everyone happy. “Let’s eat.”