5. Darius

5

DARIUS

D arius slammed the front door behind him, daring his dad to ask him how the job had gone. Fortunately, his father took one look at his face and wisely said nothing.

Wendy had no such compunction. “How did the babysitting go? Did the kid survive the night? Any fires?”

Jackson gave a shriek of greeting and crawled for his knees. Darius ignored Wendy, but he wasn’t going to brush his little brother off.

“What happened to your brace?” his dad wanted to know as Darius swept Jackson up into his arms.

“Got chewed on a little,” Darius said briefly, shame coursing through him. It felt like he’d spent most of his night out in the cold coaxing a wild squirrel into captivity, thinking it was Lucy. If he’d been a real shifter, he would have known the truth, right from the beginning, and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. “I’ll put some duct tape on it.” That would go a long way towards improving his reputation at school, he thought sarcastically.

“I could knit you a cover for it,” Wendy offered.

Darius knew she wasn’t serious, but he still said, “Oh, heck no.” He flipped Jackson over and lowered him by his feet to the ground as the little boy laughed and screamed, then escaped to his room while Jackson was still figuring out which way was up.

His little zoo gave a chorus of mixed greeting and alarm when he shut his bedroom door, the guinea pig giving a little chirr of warning, the birds chirping, and the chinchilla diving for cover in his sawdust. One of the lizards was up against the glass, its tongue testing the air.

Darius sat down on his bed and peeled off the brace. Raw scabs had formed where the wild squirrel had either scratched or bit him; it was hard to tell. He tested the range of his wrist, which was basically back up to full speed. He’d have to wear the brace a little longer yet, so no one thought he’d healed suspiciously fast, even if he had. He wondered if he’d healed shifter fast , or if having his injury partly healed by a magical doctor also meant it would finish healing faster. Maybe this was just how fast a sprain got better for regular people.

He could still remember the crunch of the bones in his wrist when he fell, and the wonderfully gross sound they’d made knitting back together under the strange doctor’s hands. The hospital said it was just a sprain, but Darius knew it hadn’t been.

Darius stared at the squirrel wounds, willing them to close up faster. If he was a shifter…if there was a reason that he felt like one to other shifters… He flexed his fingers and one of the scratches sluggishly bled again as the skin split open.

Darius sighed and got up to dig his first aid kit out from under the bed. His menagerie came with a certain amount of risk, and he was prepared for this. The last thing he needed was for his dad marching in to forbid him from having dangerous pets .

He snuck to the bathroom, and heard Wendy from the living room saying, “...weren’t kidding about the stomping and slamming age.”

Darius shut the bathroom door silently behind himself out of spite.

He had cleaned his hands off and applied generic sticky bandages over the worst of the wounds when he heard Jackson babbling at the door. “Ooble brooble bah?” Scritch scritch scritch.

Darius opened the door and Jackson crawled in. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Darius reminded him.

Jackson looked up at him and cooed. Jackson didn’t care if Darius was a shifter or not.

“Fine,” Darius said, leaving his kit on the counter to scoop up his little brother. “I’ll read you a book. Then, it’s bedtime.”

Jackson went down with relative ease after Darius read him his favorite book three times in a row.

He came out to find the bathroom door was shut. Wendy was in the kitchen pouring herself a glass of milk. “Hey,” she said easily. “You mind if I stay the night?”

“Nah,” Darius said, appreciating that she’d at least ask but not really wanting to look actively welcoming. “Just…no gross mushy stuff.” He got the ingredients for a sandwich and started toasting the bread. Noodles with Lucy had been hours ago, and they hadn’t filled him up, even with the cookies.

“We’ll keep the smooching to a minimum,” Wendy promised. “How did the squirrel babysitting go?”

“She tormented the cat and knocked the cookie jar off the fridge while I was outside freezing my nads off getting a wild squirrel to eat out of my hand because I thought it was her.”

Wendy’s laugh was everything she was, impulsive and unrestrained, but by the time she got control of herself, Darius was smiling despite himself. The toast popped up and he slathered on condiments. He didn’t have to pretend his wrist still hurt with Wendy. There was no point in pretending anything with Wendy.

“Did you catch the wild squirrel?” Wendy asked skeptically, eying Darius’s bandaged hand.

“Caught it. Brought it inside. Released it in their house. Incited a cat and squirrel tornado.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Impressively stupid,” Darius agreed.

“No, just impressive. I don’t know anyone who could actually capture a squirrel .” Wendy actually sounded admiring and Darius hated that he liked the feeling.

“It’s nothing,” he said, squashing the lunchmeat and cheese between the toast. “Animals are really easy to catch if you stay still.”

“I’m not an expert in staying still,” Wendy scoffed, “but I think it’s a little trickier than that . You’re really good with animals and kids. Supernaturally good.”

Really? Animals had always trusted Darius, but he’d never considered that there might be anything more than patience at play. The idea was intriguing, but he didn’t want to admit it. Not even to Wendy. “Whatever.” He put a corner of the sandwich in his mouth so he wouldn’t be expected to say more.

“Should you, I don’t know, get a rabies shot or something for your squirrel bites?”

“No one gets rabies from a squirrel or small rodent,” Darius scoffed around his sandwich. “That’s an old wives tale. I’m up on my tetanus shots. Anyway, these are just scratches.”

“Infection then?”

Because he wasn’t a shifter like everyone else, Darius thought bitterly. “You’re not my mom,” he reminded her shortly.

“Lucky you,” Wendy retorted, but Darius didn’t think she meant it unkindly.