Carl looked to Darnell for approval, his crooked smile in place, his glassy eyes searching the demon’s for confirmation.
“Yeah,” Darnell muttered on a grin. “Just like that, pal. You’re a good dude, buddy. Now you go do like I told ya and rinse your mouth out with the mouthwash, ’k? Can’t have you with death-breath.” Darnell waggled a finger at Carl in the direction of her small bathroom. “After every meal—that’s the deal if you want ol’ Darnell to bring you more cabbage. Now go be a good zombie n’ rinse, rinse, rinse.”
“Half zombie,” Harry piped in, loosening his tie as Carl dragged his left foot across Mara’s floor, scattering her white and moss green throw rugs as he went.
Darnell barreled toward Harry, white high-tops thumping, the chains around his neck swaying against his football jersey. “You must be the poor sum-bitch Mara made outta baby juice,” Darnell said, putting his wrist over his mouth to attempt to hide his cackle. “I’m Darnell—a demon. Mara can explain the how and why to ya later.”
Mara expected Harry to react with anger to the demonic branch of their paranormal group. But Harry didn’t look angry. He smiled and laughed, too. Like he and Darnell were old friends, laughing over an inappropriate joke.
Wow. She liked whoever was in charge of Harry’s mood swings today. Whoever it was, they were invited to stay the duration of his adjustment period. “I am, indeed, the product of the infamous baby-maker.” He shook Darnell’s hand with a friendly grin.
And now we were bathing in the fodder of this all? What was with the ha-ha-ha?
“Have you heard anything about who might have abducted the children, Darnell?” Mara asked. All day long, aside from her other worries, it had troubled her.
While they were safe with Wanda, it didn’t change the fact that someone had tried to take them. Someone who wasn’t a human. Every time she thought about it, she couldn’t help but feel completely responsible and sick to her stomach. Maybe someone had seen something the other night in the lab? But who? And what did it have to do with Harry’s children?
“Not a rumble,” Darnell said, shaking his head, directing his next comment to Harry with a slap on his back. “But you count on this, ain’t no one gonna get past me and get yo’ kids. I promise ya that. And if I hear anything at all in my world, you’ll be the first to know.”
Harry’s eyes clouded over. “Appreciate it.”
“So how ya feelin’, man? You got the fever tonight?” Darnell asked on a grin meant mostly for Harry.
Harry’s alarm was evident, his lean face losing its easygoing smile and expressing concern. “Fever?”
“Yeah, buddy. Mara ain’t told ya about the fever yet?” Darnell whistled, rubbing his hand over his shortly cropped hair.
Mara’s sigh was meant to grate on its way out. It wasn’t really a fever. It was more like a really extended hot flash. No big deal. “I was getting to that.” Because it was touchy and shouldn’t be explained in a rush. Or without the purchase of condoms or maybe a dirty magazine.
Darnell pointed to the window where darkness began to fall. “Well you better get the gettin’ on. Tonight’s the full moon.”
Harry looked to Mara, his eyes narrowing. “It’s not really like the myth is it?”
“Do you mean like the American Werewolf in London myth? Or like myth-myth, folklore-myth?” she hedged, backing away from him and bumping into Carl who thumped her on the back just the way Darnell instructed. Mara grabbed Carl’s hand and let it rest on her shoulder to show him he’d done good.
Harry’s approach was swift, leading Mara to believe he’d been trying out his new werewolf powers. His face hovered above hers, making Carl’s feet shift in a nervous shuffle. “I mean, am I going to . . .” He paused, clearly searching. “Do that thing . . .”
“Shift,” Mara filled in his blank.
His lips, lips that had touched her soul, thinned in disapproval. “Yeah. That. Then turn into some werewolf version of a mad dog and eat a herd of cows?”
Mara laughed. “No, silly. Yes. You’ll shift. No. You won’t eat cows. We don’t allow that. I mean, you’ll want to, but I’ll make sure you consume plenty of food beforehand so the hunger doesn’t eat you alive. It won’t be easy to fight it off, but you’ll learn. I’ll help.”
His expression was bland. “How accommodating. So that’s it? There’s nothing else I should know about other than my body is going to be ripped apart in an agonizing grip of twisting flesh and shattered bones?”