Page 48 of Graveyard Dog

“No, I won’t,” he said. “No way am I bringing her into our world, Donny. I can’t do that to her or her daughter.”

Donovan frowned as though trying to figure him out. “You’re different.”

“You’re different, too.”

“The fuck?” Eric walked up and looked from one man to the other, astonished. “You’re both different. Your timelines are all fucked up. Nobody can screw with timelines like that. Nobody except—”

“The teenage daughter of two gods?” Michael suggested.

Eric lowered his voice as though Elwyn could hear them from afar. “Is she fucking with us?”

“Always,” Donovan said. “And often.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Your face is messed up,” Michael said, continuing their never-ending game of one-upmanship. And if his calculations were correct, winning.

“Yeah? At least I didn’t get hit with a frying pan.”

The pretty blonde walked over to them, arms crossed. “Are you boys finished?”

“Boys?” Eric asked. When she raised a brow in question, he caved. “Sorry. Male rivalry took over and caused a robust yet temporary state of insanity.”

One corner of her mouth rose. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

The grin that spread across Eric’s face was the most wolfish thing Michael had ever seen, aside from the one he saw on an actual wolf.

“And that’s our cue,” Eric said. He led Halle out with a hand on the small of her back. “Nice to meet you,” he called over his shoulder to Izzy.

“You, too.”

The doc stopped beside Donovan. Izzy stepped closer, as well.

“I’m glad tomorrow is Saturday,” Doc said to her. “I don’t think Emma is going to feel that great for a couple of days. I suggest lots of rest, fluids, and that yellow sponge kids like to watch these days.” She looked toward Emma’s room and whispered, “Also, just FYI, that woman inside her is cray-cray. She says she’s British, but I think she’s lying. I get the feeling she is much older.”

“Older?” Izzy asked, stunned. “Than Britain?”

The doc shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

Donovan peeled the medical kit off her shoulder and led her out. And then there were none.

Michael sank onto Izzy’s sofa, a beige thing that had seen better days. “I’ll watch her if you want to shower and get ready for bed.”

Izzy went to the kitchen and grabbed two beers and two slices of cold pizza. She came back and handed him one of each. A peace offering, maybe? “This has been the longest day of my life, but I don’t think I could sleep if you paid me to.”

“Are you sure you want to get this close to me? What happened to the Stockholm Syndrome?”

“Ah, Sia checked me out. I’m good.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think it works like that, but I’ll take it.” He took a bite, then asked, “I don’t mean to pry, but just how close are you to the couple who owns the diner?”

“Because of everything they’ve done for me?” she asked, taking a swig of beer.

“Yeah, I mean—”

“No, I get it. I was surprised, too, but they are just so wonderful. They’ve treated me so well, and I let them down. I missed work today.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand.”

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