Chapter 25
BING WATCHEDas the energy that was Sand left the woman’s body. It fought the departure. With his Red Wolf sight, he could see it clinging to the woman, so he used whatever skill he had while a wolf to unlatch, unhook, and generally make the energy go away. Then he yipped twice to tell Walter it was done. Honestly, he didn’t think he accomplished anything. It was all the woman as she expelled the power that was Sand. But the body that remained was too hurt to sustain itself. He heard the conversation between her and Walter, and he knew when it was done.
She passed on, a woman finally at peace.
But he couldn’t help wondering if that was his future too. Would the demands of Red Wolf take over his life until he too longed for an end?
He might have chewed on that thought for a long time, but then he felt Walter burrowing his hands into his fur. When Bing lifted his head into the embrace, Walter pressed his face into his shoulder.
“Stay with me, okay?” Walter murmured.
Bing couldn’t answer with words, but he could lick a swipe across his lover’s chin. When Walter pulled back, his lips had shifted into a soft smile, though his eyes were still sad.
“Mr. Chen? We’d like to talk to you now.”
Bing turned his head and barely restrained a growl. The words had come from the sheriff, who did not look like he was in a mood to be ignored. That was understandable, but that didn’t mean Bing was going to let Walter be victimized by it. Only there wasn’t much he could do as a wolf. He needed to change back to human, but how? The clothes he’d worn were a trampled, torn mess in the center of the fight zone.
“Um, yes,” Walter said as he slowly stood up. Bing did too, facing the sheriff with bared teeth.
“Perhaps without the dog?” the cop said.
Dog! Now Bing really did growl. He was a wolf, damn it. And—
“Joanie!” Walter waved one of the crew over. She made it to his side quickly, her eyes alight with interest until she saw Auntie Sand on the ground. Then she flinched and looked away.
“Yeah?”
“Can you take Red Wolf back into costuming?”
“What?” she squeaked.
“He’s perfectly tame. Take him back there and shut the door.”
“Those costumes are delicate. And expensive!”
“He’ll be fine. And bring out a sheet or something. To cover my aunt.”
“Oh. Okay.”
And there was the answer. He’d have a quiet place to shift back to human and clothing to wear once he did. Bing licked Walter’s fingers, then hip-checked him just for fun. As expected, Walter grinned down at him.
“Quit being a pain. Come back when you’re you.”
That was his plan. And though it took longer than he would have liked, the official cleanup was nowhere near finished when he returned to Walter’s side. It was hours before the cops stopped interviewing people, Bing included. Walter was passing it off as a publicity stunt gone bad, and for now the police were willing to accept that statement, especially since an old woman had died by one of their guns.
Eventually the cops left, though filming was suspended for the rest of the week per the sheriff’s orders. He didn’t really have grounds for that, but Walter didn’t argue. He had to notify his family and help make funeral arrangements.
And so Bing hung around without anything to do. He helped here and there, locking stuff down on the set. He finally got his hands on a copy of the script. But most of all he stayed close to Walter. The man was competence in motion, except for those few moments when he looked like a kicked puppy. At those moments he turned to Bing, who discovered the joy of being close enough to hold the one he loved.
It was just before midnight when Nero texted.
Five live kangaroos saved. Phantoms gone. Be ready to discuss the future in twenty minutes.
Bing dropped his phone on his lap and looked up at Walter. They were inside his tent, where they’d been for the last two hours. Bing had been reading the script. Walter had been on his laptop after a frustrating phone call from his parents, who had no understanding of the disaster it was to have an entire set shut down for a day, let alone the rest of the week. But Walter had taken it calmly, had leaned into Bing, who was holding his hand during the conversation, and then, once it was done, had said, “I’ve got to check my laptop for a second.”
That was an hour ago. But now he looked over at Bing, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Got involved.”
Walter often did that, so Bing understood.
