Page 72 of Fangs for the Memories
“Any conclusions?”
“None.”
“Well…you’ve got nine months…at least I presume werewolf babies have a nine-month gestation?” Lucy says. “I mean, it could be shorter…”
I pick up a sock from where it’s been drying on the radiator underneath the window and throw it at her.
“Not helpful.” I chuckle before I put my hand on my stomach. “You don’t really think it’s shorter, do you?”
“I’d be more worried if it was longer, if I were you…but I’m not you, so I’m just here for the ride.”
“Oh, you’re such a comfort.” I wince my face up at her.
“Always, my love,” she responds in a saccharine tone.
I go for the other sock, and she runs off into the bathroom, cackling like a hen.
“I should have gone to stay with Kezia,” I call after her.
Once we’re up and Lucy has spent time cooing over my wardrobe, none of which is going to fit in the next few months, we head out into the damp London air, heading for the nearest electronics store to get a cable for my phone.
Of the werewolf bodyguards…they and the SUV I arrived in…there is no sign. But then neither are any screaming harpy like creatures trying to pluck me from the street.
It’s almost as if I’ve been dreaming…if it wasn’t for the positive pregnancy tests.
The little corner shop selling all things mobile phone related has what we need and we repair to a nearby cafe so I can charge up. Lucy makes a fuss about me eating something, so I choose a croissant and have some more juice.
“There you go,” she says as the screen changes from showing a battery icon to an actual photo, one I took of the Hungarian Parliament building.
Almost instantly it’s covered with notifications, from my mother, from Lucy, from the group chat…but not from Ferenc. Not a single one is from him.
What chills my already queasy stomach is something else. I stare at the screen for a few seconds before picking it up and unlocking it.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy says as I push my half-eaten pastry away.
I stare at the text. It might be from an unknown number, but it’s crystal clear who it’s from.
“Mark.” I show her my phone. “How does he know I’m back?”
Mark
Hey - we need to meet. We have things to discuss
“Ignore him. What have you got to talk to him about?” Lucy growls.
“Maybe I could persuade him to let me have my business back?”
“Hun, he didn’t do you any favors when he was supposed to be getting married to you. Now he’s with his knocked-up bitch, he’s absolutely not your friend in any way, shape, or form,” Lucy says. “You should keep well away.”
She glares off into the distance out of the cafe window before looking back at me.
“You’re totally going to go see him, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what’s happening anymore.” I sigh. “If there’s the slightest chance I can salvage my business, I might not have to go home and live with my mother.”
“I would never allow such a travesty,” Lucy says fiercely. “You know you’re always welcome to my sofa bed.”
I wrap my arm around her. “Thanks, bestie. But you won’t be saying that when your place is cluttered up with baby stuff, will you?”
