Page 6 of Plaidypus
“It is a consequence of raising independent children we taught to be self-sufficient and only call if things are truly bad. Considering your brother’s life is at stake—”
“You take that back, you awful woman!” I demanded. “You just don’tdothat!”
“Do what?” my mother replied in an exasperated tone.
“At stake? His life isat stake?”
“Oh.” My mother fell quiet for several long minutes. “Oh.” She inhaled. “I’m sorry. It was not on purpose. At risk. Matthieu’s life is at risk. I will try not to make any more accidental puns during this call. I may pun with a purpose, but I’ll exclude your brother from them for tonight.”
“Thank you. Do you think the CDC can help us?”
“Oh, I’m sure they can. They have good staff, and they try to keep their fees affordable. Will you be willing to discuss the hotspot with them? Your father’s told me a few times that they will often cut deals with people for information or some non-invasive tests. The invasive tests pay more, but the test subjects typically get a say in those.” My mother chuckled. “Your brother might even walk away with a good paycheck if he’s willing to undergo observations.”
“I’ll even tell them where it’s at and detail the accident. I’ll even let them do the lycanthropy evaluation thing if they agree I’m not actually a test subject. And if they try to stake my brother, I willnotremain a polite Canadian.”
My mother chuckled. “You’re half-Canadian, and it’s their fault if they awaken the sleeping American in you. But Matthieu is all right?”
“He doesn’t mind his state as a vampire. If anything, he has embraced his basement lair with a certain amount of glee. I object because I get bitten daily, and I could live without getting bitten daily. It’s not that bad, but I will be looking for a lycanthrope wife for him so he can biteherdaily. She’d probably like it. I do not.”
“I’m not sure that’s how this works, Nadine.”
“Well, why the hell not? Who else is going to feed him?”
“I’m sure the CDC will assist your brother with his new mealtime considerations, and they will help him be placed with some other vampires so he is comfortable and can be taught to control his new instincts. Your dad has contacts through work. I’m sure he’ll be able to make the arrangements.”
“HowisDad doing at work? Is he still liking the cop thing?”
“While he was late in joining the force, he’s enjoying it. His shapeshifting is useful, so he’ll have a lot of years before he’ll have to retire. He’s also taking lessons on how to help kids with trauma, as Shetlands are excellent for therapy. He’s just so cute and fuzzy.” My mother laughed.
“Platypuses are better,” I muttered.
“I’m glad you are both all right, though.” My mother made a thoughtful sound. “I am not happy you hit a moose, however.”
“She jumped right in front of me. I didn’t even have a chance to hit the brakes before I hit her. I managed to swerve a little, which is why only Matthieu is a vampire right now.”
Behind me, my brother snickered. “I’m so much better suited for being a vampire than you are. You already complain you deal with blood once a month.”
“Cute, Matthieu. Talk to Mom and tell her about life as a vampire. She didn’t even panic when I told her my shit driving got you killed.”
“There’s nothing to panic about,” my mother replied. “You’re alive, he’s not-quite-alive but still around, so as far as I’m concerned, you have solvable problems I can assist you with. I’ll make sure we have space for you when you arrive. Until then, be careful. Just tell the neighbors your brother is obsessed with a new video game if they ask why he’s hiding in the basement.”
As nobody would have any reason to believe he wasn’t just being Matthieu, I would accept my mother’s advice. “I’m handing Matthieu the phone now.”
With a grin, Matthieu took the phone and said, “Hey, Mom. Did Nadine tell you about our zombie moose?”
Before I could get dragged back into the insanity, I retreated to the safety of my bedroom to put some serious thought into how we’d reach the United States before our neighbors realized our household had gone through some significant changes.
It wasone thing to have a convention of undead animals take over the yard, but the quartet of strangers walking along the street worried me. The women couldn’t be human; they explored a wintry northern Ontario in short-sleeved shirts and shorts without a care in the world. The man with them, with brown hair and blue eyes, wore a sensible plaid button up and a good pair of jeans that did an excellent job of showcasing his assets.
Before my probable infection with lycanthropy, the animal in me considered men with limited interest, warning me when a potential partner came by. My newer instincts went on high alert, and she liked what she saw and wanted a piece of him.
The platypus joined the party and made it clear she wouldn’t mind taking the stranger for a test drive.
I considered myself fortunate that the new animal sharing my skin with me ignored most men. Something about the scent of brother-hunting men turned her off.
Something about the stranger’s scent, which entered the house in through the cracked window thanks to my brother running the heat at full blast, captured both my animals’ attention and revved their engines.
The last thing I needed was my lycanthropy virusandthe platypus in me becoming rowdy when I needed to safeguard my brother.
