But his moms hadn’t answered.
“And you made himforget?” Riley had asked again.
Mama Daphne had cleared her throat from the passenger seat. “No. We thought it best to let things lie.”
Then Rileyhadgotten out of the car, unlocking the door and rolling out of the moving vehicle without another word. He’d ignored the scrapes and bruises from the road—they’d healquickly or they wouldn’t, and what did a few more rips in his jeans matter? He’d decided it was best to run home, before he stayed and said something horrible to his moms, the women who’d loved him and protected him—and protected Sethfromhim—and to whom he owed everything.
But letting Seth remember like that?
It was too soon. Riley and Seth were only starting to get to know each other. What chance did Riley have if Seth already knew he was a monster, bloodthirsty and uncontrolled and so very hungry?
The worst part was that Riley didn’t even know what he’d been trying to do back in the bakery. He’d smelled the rich, decadent scent of orange and copper, had realized Seth was bleeding, and then he’d been…moving. Fangs already out, that voice in control and Riley relegated to the back of his own mind. Had the voice been trying to protect Seth? To lick at that cut until the skin healed and Seth was no longer hurt? Or to bite in, to create another, worse wound by tearing into his throat and draining him dry?
Riley wasn’t sure, and the voice wasn’t talking.
Well, Riley was done talking too. Or yelling, if he wanted to be specific. Screaming out in the woods by himself like a lunatic wasn’t doing any good, other than sending all the birds flying. He’d go home, go up to the attic, and try to figure out his next move.
It wouldn’t be sulking. It would beplanning.
Did flowers and chocolate work in a situation like this? Maybe a card that said,I’m sorry I tried to maul you a second time. Third time’s the charm, I promise.
Maybe Seth wouldn’t open any card Riley sent him, anyway. Maybe Seth hated him. Or maybe he’d convinced himself it wasn’t real—he wouldn’t be the first human to engage in denial when faced with the supernatural.
As Riley came through the trees surrounding the house, he saw there was a car parked by the porch, next to Mama Daphne’s—a car he didn’t recognize. And a man standing there by the front door, waiting for someone.
Riley had one gut-wrenching moment where he thought it might be Seth come to see him, but the details were all wrong. That wasn’t Seth’s car, that black, nondescript thing. And the man standing there was taller, with short dark hair and a suit that made him look like he’d come straight from FBI headquarters.
It was all…unusual. Super weird, actually. No one ever came to the house. Even delivery vans stopped at the mail drop much further down the drive.
Riley made his steps deliberately loud as he approached, and the man turned to face him. He was wearing glasses, and they glinted in the ray of sunlight peeking from behind the clouds. “Ah. Hello,” the man said, his voice smooth and mild. “Are you Mr. Beauchamp?”
He pronounced it the French way, just like Riley’s moms did. Riley gave him a nod, halting at the bottom of the porch.
“I heard some yelling,” the man pointed out. “Is everything all right?”
Riley said nothing.
“You encountered…a wild animal, perhaps?”
Riley shook his head. “Scream therapy.”
The man blinked at him. “Oh. Right.” He seemed to shake off Riley’s rudeness in an instant, giving him a bland smile. “I’m Tim Perkins, a lawyer from the Northwest Institute of Wildlife Research, or NIWR, if you don’t want to say the whole mouthful. We’re neighbors. Notcloseneighbors, of course.” That bland smile sharpened. “Your family has an extensive property here.”
Mr. Perkins paused then, his head cocked expectantly, like Riley was supposed to say something, or maybe invite him in.
But Riley didn’t want this stranger in his house, and he wasn’tthe type to be cowed by uncomfortable silences. So he stood there at the bottom of the porch, staring without speaking.
After a few long moments, Mr. Perkins cleared his throat. “Tell me, Mr. Beauchamp, have you encountered any unusual activity in the area?”
Riley tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking onto his heels. “Like UFOs?”
Mr. Perkins narrowed his eyes, apparently not amused. No sense of humor with this one.Sethwould have thought it was funny. “Like predators.”
“What kind of predators?” Riley asked. “I thought you all studied marine life.”
He’d heard the rumors in town, sitting for hours in Seth’s bakery like he did. The creepy institute about which no one knew the exact details, but plenty wanted to speculate.
Of course, Riley had also heard his own family was made up of undiscovered serial killers, so he took the rumors with a grain of salt.
