“You can’t blame me for what happens during the full moon,” Annette wailed as she curled in on herself, face buried in her crooked knees. “It’s not my fault.”
“It’s not what you did; it’s what you’ll do,” Marlow said. “Next full moon. The state needs to know what measures you’ll take to safeguard Billie.”
The baby picked that moment to hiccup its way into a grouchy, croaky wail. Red flushed up to its scalp, bright under the fuzz of hair, as it squirmed against his grip. It was stronger than he had expected.
Annette jerked her head up and stared at him with swollen, teary eyes. She swiped at her cheeks with both hands and scrambled to her feet.
“Why does he have my baby?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mary said impatiently. She grabbed Annette’s shoulders and tried to pull her around. “You have to—“
Annette hit her. The crack of her palm against her mother’s face was sharp and nearly knocked the older woman down. It was hard to tell who was more surprised. Annette snatched her hand back and clutched it against her chest as if it had gotten into trouble on its own. Mary didn’t move for a moment, her face turned away as she absorbed it.
“Mary!” the husband gasped. He grabbed her elbow and put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” Annette babbled. She reached out with shaky hands. “I didn’t mean—“
Mary shoved her husband roughly away from her and slapped Annette across the face. She used the back of her hand and put her shoulder into it. It staggered Annette. She stumbled back a step, nearly into the freshly replanted flower bed, and raised a hand to touch her bruised cheek with trembling fingers.
Shit.
Marlow took a quick look around. The baby’s carrier was set under the table, in the thin crescent of shade. He bent down and tucked Billie into it, getting a spit-wet fist in the eye as Billie wriggled while he strapped her in.
“You nearly killed us too, you selfish little brat,” Mary yelled, her voice cracked and flash-paper furious. “We’ve lived in fear since you first shifted, and you won’t even do this for us? For Billie?”
Marlow straightened up just as Mary cocked her hand back for another slap, while Annette cringed. The dad hovered on the sidelines, frozen in place by the outburst of violence. Marlow put himself between them, one hand on Annette’s shoulder and the other raised in warning for Mary to stop.
“That’s enough—”
She hit him. The heel of her hand cracked against his jaw hard enough to make his teeth click together. From the taste of salt on his tongue, he’d caught the edge of his cheek or tongue as well. That would sting later; right now, all he could feel was the heat that scalded the side of his face.
Mary blanched as she realized what she’d done. Her mouth opened slightly and stayed that way as she took a step backward. The movement finally jarred her husband from his paralysis, and he stepped in to wrap an arm around her shoulder. His fingers dug into her upper arm as he pulled her back.
“It was an accident,” he said. “That’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” Mary said. She wasn’t looking at Marlow; her pleading expression was directed over his shoulder. “I just… I just…”
Damp fingers touched Marlow’s wrist. “I’ll go,” Annette said, her voice small and tight in her throat. “Okay? That’s what everyone wants. I’ll go.”
Annette ducked out from under Marlow’s arm and headed back to the house. She didn’t look at her parents on the way past. Mary tried to reach her, hand outstretched pleadingly, but the dad pulled her back.
“Not yet,” he said into her hair. He patted at her shoulders in nervous comfort, although it might have been for himself instead of her. “Let everything settle, love.”
Under the table, Billie didn’t seem to have noticed the atmosphere. She’d somehow managed to shed both her socks and waved her chubby-toed feet triumphantly in the air.
“The mediator won’t want to see Billie this time,” Marlow said. It sounded officious, but he couldn’t think of how to soften it. “Next time, they might want to see all of you.”
Annette’s father gestured uncomfortably at Marlow’s face. “And…”
It had been Marlow’s tongue that had taken the worst of the hit. He absently grated the edge of it against his molars to check the sting.
“An accident,” he said. “No harm, no foul.”
He went after Annette. She was waiting for him next to the patrol car, her hands in her pockets and her head tipped forward so her hair hid her face.
“You could press charges,” Marlow said in a neutral tone.
Annette rubbed her cheek. “I hit her first. She didn’t mean it. She’s just… it scared her.”
