Page 4 of Sobek’s Joy

“Wait, you don’t have to…”

But the man turned and walked away, long strides eating up the distance to the driveway where a sleek black car waited that Rudy absolutely hadn’t noticed before. In fact, Rudy was sure it hadn’t been there before. But within seconds the big man had folded himself into the driver’s seat, and the engine purred to life.

“Okay then.” Rudy watched the car disappear down the long driveway, dust rising in its wake. “That was weird.”

“He smells like the pond,” Jack offered quietly.

“Well, you guys smell like the pond too, so you’re all matching.” Rudy herded everyone back inside, already mentally calculating how fast he could heat water for baths. “New rule. When I say stay in the yard, I mean stay in the actual yard. Not the neighbor’s yard. Not the woods. Not the pond. The yard. Our yard. This specific collection of grass and weeds right here.”

“Sorry,” Jack said again, and he genuinely sounded it, although Rose had gone suspiciously quiet, which usually meant she was plotting something, or she could just be thinking of something else. Timothy pressed closer to Rudy’s leg, and those scales were back on his arms, faint but visible.

“Hey.” Rudy stopped in the kitchen, crouched down again so he was eye level with all three of them. “I’m not mad. All right? You need to understand that. I was just scared because I didn’t know where you were. I love you guys, okay? All of you. That means I need to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you disappear.”

“Love you, too,” Jack whispered.

“Love you,” Rose echoed, then brightened. “Can we have more pancakes?”

“After baths. You’re all pond monsters right now.” Rudy stood, ruffled her curls, and tried very hard not to think about the tall stranger with the gorgeous face and his rather quick retreat. “Come on, upstairs. Let’s make you smell like people again instead of swamp creatures.”

More bedlam – bath time always was - with wet clothes and demands for specific towels and Rose attempting to flood the bathroom by turning all the faucets on at once. But through it all, Rudy kept seeing that man’s expression. The way he’d stared at Rudy like he’d grown a second head, and the way he’d left without saying a word.

Weird, Rudy thought again, wrapping Timothy in a towel and trying to coax a smile out of him. But then again, maybe finding three random kids by a pond and having a stranger invite you in for coffee is weird from his perspective, too.

It was a shame, though. Rudy would’ve loved to have heard the man speak at least. He was a stunning man. The kind of gorgeous that made Rudy think about those paranormal romance books he read late at night when the house finally settled. A tall, dark, mysterious stranger appears at your door…

“Stop it,” Rudy muttered to himself, and focused on getting Timothy dried off before his imagination ran away with him completely. “You’ve got three kids and a house held together with duct tape and rusty nails. You don’t have time for a tall, mysterious man unless he knows how to use a hammer or a paint brush.” Although, I’d have settled for sharing a coffee with him. It would’ve been nice to talk to an adult for a change.

Chapter Three

“You need to invest in some fences.” Sobek stood on the front porch of the neighboring house again, three days after his first attempt to return the wayward children, holding Timothy with one arm like a sack of particularly scaly potatoes. The hatchling had his face pressed against Sobek’s neck and was making soft chirping sounds that crocodile shifters only made when they felt safe, which was concerning on approximately seventeen different levels.

“Oh, no.” The door swung open to reveal Rudy in paint-splattered overalls and a bright yellow T-shirt that read “I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right.” His curly hair stuck up in about forty directions, and he had a smudge of yellow paint across one freckled cheek. “Timothy. Again?”

“Again,” Sobek confirmed, and tried very hard not to notice how Rudy’s eyes - which were an absolutely ridiculous shade of blue - went wide with what looked like genuine distress.

“I am so sorry. I was literally just painting the living room, and I turned around for two seconds…” Rudy reached for Timothy, who made a protesting chirp and clung harder to Sobek’s shirt. “Timothy, sweetheart, you can’t keep running off to the pond. We talked about this.”

“Perhaps,” Sobek said, in what he considered to be a very reasonable tone, “you should consider that your children have some rather concerning behavioral…”

And that’s when it happened. The world exploded into light. It poured from Rudy like he’d swallowed the sun - golden, blinding, and absolutely impossible to look away from. Sobek’s entire body locked up, his knees went weak, and his crocodile side - which had been contentedly dormant for the last three millennia except when Sobek was near a pool - suddenly roared to life with a possessive fury that made his teeth ache.

MINE.

No. Sobek took a step back, nearly tripping over the porch step. Absolutely not.

“Concerning behavioral what?” Rudy asked, completely oblivious to the fact that Sobek’s entire existence had just tilted sideways. He’d managed to extract Timothy from Sobek’s grip - when had that happened? - and now held the hatchling on his hip while those impossible blue eyes regarded Sobek with confusion. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sobek opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “Your children…”

“If you’re about to tell me they’re weird, I’m going to stop you right there.” Rudy’s expression shifted from confused to protective so fast it gave Sobek whiplash. He actually stepped backward into the house, partially shielding Timothy with his body. “We don’t judge in this house. These kids have been through enough without some stranger showing up to tell them they’re…”

“That’s not what I meant.” Sobek forced the words out through a jaw that felt welded shut. His hands were shaking. When was the last time his hands had shaken? “They’re shifters.”

Rudy blinked. “They’re what now?”

“Shifters. Paranormals.” Sobek gestured vaguely at Timothy, who’d gone very still against Rudy’s shoulder. The hatchling’s dark eyes were fixed on Sobek with an intensity that suggested he understood every word. “The scales. The claws. The fur. They’re not human children.”

“Okay.” Rudy’s voice had gone very flat. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you hit your head or something, because otherwise you’re standing on my porch telling me my kids aren’t human, which is…”