“Probably not something you want to tell Grams and Gramps, huh?”
Nero’s lips curved up. “Yeah, probably not.”
“But don’t you want to tell them something? They probably think you’re a psycho felon or something.”
“I am a psycho felon as far as the world is concerned. I pled guilty to a judge in on the woo-woo secret and was sent to the frozen tundra known as Maine. I can’t tell them the truth, and I sure as hell can’t explain away the body count from the bar fight.”
“But you could tell them you’re alive. That you’re doing well.”
“And then what? Meet them for coffee? Share Thanksgiving dinner with them?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Ask me that again after your first home visit.” His expression softened. “This secret is hard to keep. It’s easier to let them think I’m behind bars somewhere.”
Josh snorted. “Easier on you, maybe. Look, my dad’s an ass, but I still can’t let him think I’m dead. And I like my mother—most times—so don’t think I’m going the prison route.” He flashed a mischievous grin. “I’ll tell them that I’m living with my hot ex-felon gay lover. That’ll horrify them enough that they won’t speak to me for a year.”
He knew Josh was joking, but Nero had heard worse cover stories. And the longer Nero sat there soberly considering the possibility, the less cheeky Josh’s expression became. Eventually the guy tilted his head and let his blond hair fall messily over his eyes.
“I’m joking. I’m not telling my parents that.”
“Fair enough. But you’ll have to think of something.”
“Actually, no, I won’t. Look, so far, I’m on a long weekend. It can be explained away by a really bad flu.”
“We talked about this. You can’t go back to your former life.”
“Why not? I get that you need to solve the fire bomb problem. I’m here for that. But I can close up stuff on campus normally. The last experiments won’t take too long. And then I’ll write it up in my dissertation and be done. I can say I got a job—which will be true—and then I’m all yours.”
“You’re not safe in public yet.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
Nero arched a brow.
“Put a guard on me. Chain me up in my apartment. Whatever—”
“You act like your schooling is important to you, but you haven’t done diddly on it for a year.” Josh opened his mouth to argue, but Nero wasn’t going to let him run from the truth. “You think I didn’t look into this? I called the head of your lab and pretended I was going to hire you. I wanted a recommendation, and you know what he said?”
Josh’s face was ruddy with embarrassment, and he didn’t speak. Just shook his head.
“He said you were delaying, not getting anything done. That maybe a job would be the kick in the pants you need.” He spread his hands wide. “Consider yourself kicked. Come work for us now.”
“I’ve worked for seven years to get my PhD. I’m not dropping it like I couldn’t hack it. Yeah, so maybe I’ve been screwing around, but I’ve got incentive now. Trust me, I can get it done.” Josh straightened up. “It’s a reasonable request. You can’t expect me to drop everything when I don’t have to.”
“It sounds reasonable if you have no idea what it’s like to be a werewolf. It took a year before I felt like a person and not a freak. And by that point I’d realized how impossible it is to talk to anyone outside of the mystical community. Trust me, you’ll have zero interest in meeting up with someone from your former life.”
“Not Savannah. And not my family,” Josh countered flatly.
“You’ve changed at a level you can’t even comprehend,” Nero insisted. “They won’t understand, and you can’t explain it to them.”
Josh snorted. “I can go all scary. Rawr!” He bared his teeth and put his hands up as fake claws. “So that’s freaky weird, and I get that I’ll have to learn how to control it, but it shouldn’t tank my life.”
Nero shook his head. “It hurts, Josh. It hurts tonotbe yourself around the people who should love you most. It hurts them, and it hurts you because you have to lie all the time.” Nero tensed in his chair, seeing that he’d have to prove to Josh that he’d changed in a fundamental way.
“Maybe for you, but I never talked about myself or my work anyway. They think I’m a major screw-up. Let me take the time to finish my PhD, show them that I’m not a complete waste of space.”
“It won’t work.”
