Page 26 of Wrestling With Werewolves

I pat the table between Richard and me. “Come on down here, and I’ll answer them.”

Iggy whoops and hops off Hana’s shoulder, sliding down her back until he reaches her horse body. Then he slips down her leg like it’s a pole, and hops onto the table.

Richard pinches Iggy’s fat thigh playfully. “Ig, shall I get you an ice cream while you question Lola?” He winks at me.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Iggy says without looking away. When he settles on his haunches, curling his long tail around his feet, I realize he’s waiting for a whole story from me.

Laughing, I try to recall his questions in order. “Being a princess is interesting. There are lots of rules.”

Iggy’s face screws up, his snub nose scrunching in apparent disgust.

“Yeah”—I give him a look—“so many rules. And, yes, my papá does get to tell everyone what to do, but he tries not to be too bossy.”

Ha.

“What about the ocean?” Iggy presses.

I take another lick of my cone and smile as I think about home. “I live in the castle, which is high up in the mountains overlooking the town of Santa Alaya and La Bahía de Santa Alaya, which is the ocean,” I tack on.

Iggy nods wisely.

“While I can’t leap out of my window into the water, it’s only a short walk through the town, and I get to visit all of my favorite people along the way.”

“Your town is your family, right?” Iggy says, his voice gone soft.

My heart clenches. Richard reappears at the same time, handing Iggy a single scoop of vanilla ice cream covered in sprinkles. The tiny gargoyle takes it but continues staring at me.

“Yeah, the town is my family,” I say.

“Do you miss it?” Iggy asks.

Hana clears her throat like she’s about to suggest he stop asking me questions about home, but, honestly, I find him incredibly refreshing.

“I miss some things about home,” I share. “My best friend Leo, who I play in a band with, for example. I also used to visit the elderly every morning as part of my duties. Except it never felt like a duty to me. I enjoyed it. And I miss seeing those packmates, even though it’s only been a short time.”

Iggy sighs and digs into his ice cream, munching on the sprinkles. I risk a glance over at Richard, but his expression is thoughtful.

Hana taps Iggy on the shoulder. “Friend, what do you say we deliver the candy?”

Iggy nods and lifts the bag still held in his right hand, showing it to me. “We bought this for Lou to cheer her up. She’s been really sad since, well, I’m not sure why, exactly. Dad won’t say anything except that it’s ’cause of Wesley.” He gives me a disgruntled look. “Do you know why that makes her sad? Nobody will tell me.”

Richard clears his throat. “She was there when Morgan killed Wesley, Ig. It was probably really scary, and she’s dealing with those feelings now.”

Iggy snorts. “Yeah, but that was, like, days ago. When Dad tells me to think about my feelings, it takes me like ten seconds.”

“You are exceptionally strong,” Richard compliments. “No doubt you’ll make a wonderful protector one day, like your father and uncle.”

Iggy flares his tiny wings wide, his tail lashing from side to side like a cat as he beams at me. “What do you think?”

I boop his nose. “I think you have an ice cream mustache, and it sounds like you owe Lou some candy, so you’d better get that taken care of, sir.”

He lets out a hilarious little cackle, as if I just told the funniest joke in the world. “Nice to meet you!” And then he pushes off the table and zips through the air onto Hana’s back. He kicks her sides like he’s riding a horse. “Giddyup, Hana!”

Hana smiles at us both, waving goodbye as she turns and trots into the street, Iggy bouncing around on her back with his ice cream in one hand and the bag of candy in the other.

“Moons, he’s cute,” I say, refocusing on Richard.

“You seem to love children,” he says.

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