Page 33 of Wolf's Mark

“Maybe have a little compassion for a change. My brother has gone through a lot. You left him when he needed you the most.”

Her accusations were the same and they were getting old. “We’ve been through this, Emily. I left Daniel only after he refused to get help for his pill addiction and trashed the house. Not once but twice. I couldn’t and will never allow my daughter to live in an environment like that.”

“She’s his daughter too.”

I didn’t need that reminder. Just the effort of sighing brought a sarcastic chuckle from the woman. “Yes, she is and I want Daniel to get better, but he has to make the first move and want to. I tried doing that for him for almost two years. Two. Years. All I was doing was enabling him.”

“Mama. Is everything okay?”

Britney had a vocabulary of a much older child. Maybe that was because her mother talked too much shop. Not this go-around. I refused to give her nightmares.

“Of course, baby girl. Did you have fun with Aunt Emily?” I scooped her up, booping her nose before tickling her tummy.

She giggled and nodded as only happy kids could do.

“Well, it’s time to go home, baby girl. Say goodnight to your aunt.”

“Bye, Auntie!” Britney waved as I moved toward the door. The last thing I could tolerate was another round of being berated.

“Incidentally. Happy birthday,” Emily said. It was her way of continuing the light harassment.

I said nothing as I left her house. Yes, I was grateful I could count on her for overnight stays, but with the restraining orderin place, I sensed her loyalty would continue creeping in his direction.

Britney jabbered all the way home. Her tiny quips and constant questions not only kept me entertained, but kept my mind off the video that I’d even stored on my phone. I wasn’t certain why, other than I had a feeling I needed to make copies of my report, which I’d already done.

As soon as I guided her from the car, I glanced at the sky. The clouds had dissipated, leaving a nearly full moon shining brightly over the town. My wacked-out mind drifted to every werewolf horror flick I’d ever seen, most of them bad representations of entertainment.

Based in lore? You bet.

Based on any real fact? Not a chance in hell.

I continued to remind myself of it.

“Okay, girlie. You have school tomorrow, so you need to get to bed and have the sweetest dreams in the world.”

“Mama,” Britney huffed. She placed her tiny hands on her hips, giving me the same kind of look I’d caught myself doing in the mirror.

I dreaded when she would become a teenager.

“I am almost five. I want to negotiate a different bedtime contract.”

If I’d had a drink in my hand, I would have spit it out all over everything. As it was, I coughed in an effort to keep from bursting into laughter. She was serious.

“I tell you what. We can have that discussion tomorrow, but only if you go to bed like a good little minion.”

“I’m not a minion. I am a princess.”

“Does that mean you agree?”

She wrinkled that cute little nose of hers as she debated. “Fine, but I want ice cream during our conversation.”

How did I get such a highly intelligent child?

“Deal. Now go get your PJs on.”

A bath would wait. Even Mama was tired and needed wine. Lots of wine. I required something to possibly dull the nightmares.

Because I knew they would arrive dead in the middle of the night.

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