“Well, I don’t know Chinese mythology, so don’t look at me.”
Bing blocked out their bickering. Those two picked at each other as much as they adored one another. When the banter ended, Nero focused back on Bing. “From the beginning, please.”
So Bing relayed it all, or nearly all. He gave the facts and some of the dialogue, but none of the context. None of the love and worry that washed through him whenever he looked at Walter. Fortunately, it was enough for Nero.
“He’s a Creator,” Nero said, awe in his voice.
Cara was still with the kangaroo, but she looked up and whistled. “That’s some powerful mojo,” she said as she looked back at Walter. “I’ve never met one. I didn’t even know there were any still alive.”
“That’s because there aren’t any. Except this guy, it seems.”
Bing frowned as he tried to follow their words. Fortunately Josh asked the question before Bing had to.
“Care to catch up the rest of us who didn’t go to paranormal school?”
“There is no paranormal school,” Nero said. “Except for the school of—”
“Hard knocks,” Josh finished for him. He mimed wiping away tears. “Wah-wah. Maybe there ought to be classes so that the rest of us aren’t caught flat-footed.”
Nero took a breath, ready to verbally punch back. It was what the two of them did. Bing cut in, his voice tight. His patience had worn thin. “Explain. Now.”
Nero nodded, abruptly becoming the focused pack leader again. “A Creator is a paranormal who brings to life—real life—whatever he wants. He takes all the energy of belief and manifests what he makes.” He looked at Bing. “I’d wondered about it when you manifested as Red Wolf. He wrote the character, he invested the energy in gathering the fans, and he—”
“Created me.”
A shudder went through Bing. He’d already known that he was an icon werewolf, but this was something more intimate. Walter had done that to him not through some spell or some mysterious fluke of energy. No, the man he loved had literally created him.
He was Frankenstein’s monster, and he was in love with his creator.
That would take some time to process, and he couldn’t do that with everyone else staring at him.
Meanwhile, Nero was still thinking about the situation. “What does Sand want?” he asked.
“For Walter to write stories about her and Monkey. To make her famous.”
“And give her power,” Nero said with a nod. “That’s the way it always is with icons. They want it all, and if they can figure out how it works, they sometimes try to kidnap the Creator for one reason or another. You thinkMiserywas just a book? Hell no—”
“Not me,” Bing said firmly as he scooped up Walter in his arms. Bing grunted with the effort. Walter had gained muscle, that was for sure, but the man settled solidly in his arms.
“Um, where you going, Bing?” Nero asked.
“Back to the set. We have a car,” he said as he walked. Even he had to admit that he was kidnapping Walter, but not to control him. Just to figure things out.
Nero stood up and matched him step for step. “Look, if Walter is a true Creator—”
Bing didn’t fully understand what that was, but he answered anyway. “He is.”
“Then he’s really valuable.”
“I already know that.”
“Right. But do you know why he’s unconscious now?”
“Because he had Monkey inside him, and now he doesn’t.” He paused as Nero held open the courtroom doors. “Do you know how that works? When a Creator has a creation inside him and he pushes it out?”
Nero shrugged. “That’s what a Creator does. He creates something, and it’s born through him.” Nero rubbed a hand over his face. “It was in one of Wulf’s lectures, way back when he used to give them.”
Bing gently maneuvered through the doors and headed for the front steps. “Does it usually make the Creator pass out?”
