"Honey, honey," her mom said, finally winning the struggle for the phone. "You don't understand. He's using you. Panther shifters look for mates to reproduce with, then either leave them or kill them when their job is done. They're heartless."
"No," Kristin said, her confidence returning now. "Derrick wouldn't do that. Besides, I'm his life-mate." Both her parents laughed, the kind of laugh that insinuated the ones laughing knew something you didn't.
Her mom must've finally hit speakerphone, because both her parents' voices rang out clear now. "There's no such thing," her father said. "That's nothing more than a legend. A story panther shifters tell their kids at night. It's not true."
"How do you know?" she asked.
"We've been hunting them for years," her mother said. "It's our job to know."
"Hunting?" Kristin thought she'd misunderstood for a second. "You don't mean... like hunting? With bows and arrows and guns and stuff?"
"Well, not exactly bows and arrows. And we use special bullets, plus a few other shifter-specific things, but essentially... yes." Kristin paused. It was her turn to let their words sink in. "Didn't you ever wonder?" her mom asked.
"Wonder about what?" Kristin felt like her brain was melting. Everything she thought she'd known was wrong somehow. Ghosts and ghouls did exist. Boogeymen were real. The fairytales got it right.
"About any of it?" her mom asked in disbelief. "The books, the stakes, the psychic awareness classes... Didn't you ever wonder why we did it all?"
"Be-because you saw that documentary," she mumbled.
"Oh honey."
"We never should have told her that," her father said.
"But you... you don't really kill people. Do you?"
"Not people," her father said. "Shifters."
Kristin's stomach churned. "You know what, I think I need to go."
"You can't trust him," her father said.
"He doesn't care about you," added her mother.
Kristin pleaded with them, "But I love him."
"At least he's not a wolf," her father mumbled.
***
Randy Wolfe logged onto his tablet to send an email and was blasted with the news—yet again— that his record was about to get beaten. His lips curled back. A low snarl rose in his throat. He didn't know why everyone was jumping to that conclusion. There was no way he was going to let that hustler Derrick Wellborn beat him.
His hands shook as he tried to check his email. His fingers were thick and he kept hitting the wrong buttons. "Damn it!" he howled. His second in command ran into the room.
"Alright?" he asked.
Randy glared at him. "If I need you I'll summon you," he yelled. Tom backed out of the room, head lowered. Sometimes Randy hated having a pack to deal with.
He didn't know how just yet, he only knew that it was his new mission in life to stop that poser boy Derrick Wellborn from damaging his record. Another shot of Wellborn scrolled across the screen. A picture of a pretty, curvaceous girl sat next to him. Wellborn was staring deep into her eyes like some stereotypic love-sick puppy. It made Randy sick. He read the caption that went with the picture:
Is football's most eligible bachelor off the market. Doctor Kristin Walker is the new envy of women everywhere as she dines with Derrick Wellborn, who looks smitten.
Randy closed his eyes and took a breath, an idea forming. It wasn't exactly what he had wanted, but it was always good to have a backup plan.
Chapter 8
The locker room was moving. It was always moving before a game. Derrick was the only one who was still. He sat on a bench and reread the email his father had sent.
They're hunters. Stay away from her.
Kristin walked into the locker room and Tate whipped a towel at her. "Sorry," he said, when it snapped in her face, stinging her eyes.
"Tate!" Coach screamed. "You're staying after the game and helping the janitors!" Tate shrugged his shoulders and ran off.
"And what's with you?" Coach yelled at Derrick? "Get it outta your head whatever it is and get in the game!"
Coach walked away shaking his head and mumbling something to himself about wishing he had a cookie.
Kristin went to Derrick, who looked up and smiled automatically. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Later," he said, then stood up and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before trotting out to the field.
The game didn't go well. The first quarter was rough. The Peregrines got clobbered. The second quarter was worse. Tate got injured and Kristin had to pop his dislocated shoulder back into place. It wasn't easy, especially with Tate thrashing around trying to get back out on the field. He would be out the rest of the season.
The third quarter picked up a lot. The team was really feeling the loss of Tate, who, despite his goofball antics in the locker room, was an excellent center and amazing for morale. Seeing him in the locker room at half time with his shoulder bandaged up in a sling, sitting in the corner with his head down like a two-year-old on a time out, the team rallied.
They decided to win one for Tate. Tate looked up and smiled, said "Great," then drooped his head back to the floor. Kristin tried repeatedly to get him to go to the hospital, but he refused to budge.
"What for?" he asked. "You've already done everything." Kristin couldn't argue with that. His shoulder was back in place. His arm was in a sling. She had pain killers if he wanted any.
Fourth quarter they pulled ahead, then fell behind again when Bolero fumbled the ball. He was harder on himself for that than the rest of the team could ever have been. It was Derrick who scored the winning touchdown with only two minutes left in the game. The crowd went wild. It was the closest the Peregrines had come to losing all season, which meant that it was also the sweetest victory.
The team celebrated their near loss in the locker room. "Don't know what you got to be celebrating," Coach shouted. "You guys looked pretty sorry out there tonight if you ask me." But they were too busy popping champagne and planning their victory celebration.
Kristin put her hand on Tate's arm. He brushed it off and sat with his back hunched. "It could be worse," she said. "I once treated a player who broke his femur in about a dozen places. He was a quarterback. Never played ball again. You'll heal. Next season, you'll be fine."
He looked at her with warm, wet eyes. "And what if this is my only chance at the Superbowl? We're going this year. Next year... who knows. I could get traded. I could get sick. This could've been it. And I blew it."
Kristin wished there was more she could do, but it was already December. A dislocated shoulder would need at least 2 weeks to heal, and at least 6 before he could throw again. "There's a slight chance you could be back in it towards the end," she said. It was true, but it was also a long shot.
He stared at his feet.
Derrick sat on the bench opposite them also staring at his feet. Kristin went up to him and smacked him on the back of his head. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "Tate's in bad shape. Go over there and cheer him up."
He did as she told him, but it was all perfunctory. The two of them sat together, moping, while the rest of the team applauded themselves. They were already planning to meet at Palidio's.
"I'm passing tonight guys," Derrick told them.
"Me too," said Tate.
Kristin stared at the two of them. She knew why Tate was upset, but what was up with Derrick? She finally got him alone when he was leaving.
"Were you leaving without me?" she asked. They'd been inseparable since the merry-go-round.
"No. Just getting some air. Kristin, we need to talk."
Her heart seized. Derrick saw the panic on her face and dropped his duffel, pulling her into a hug. "Oh jeez. I'm sorry, I didn't mean, you know, that 'we need to talk.' I just meant... well, we do need to talk, but not in a bad way."
Her heart started beating again, for now.
"Don't scare me like that. What do we need to talk about?" S
he was still eyeing him suspiciously.
He didn't want the team overhearing. And reporters were swarming everywhere. "Let's talk back at my place. Cool?" Kristin nodded. She followed him in her car, a ritual they'd begun to establish, and when they got inside she sunk into his cozy couch cushions and almost passed out she was so exhausted.
The first time she'd seen his place, her eyes had popped out of her head. It was a penthouse suite in a fancy building with a French name, and a gorgeous view of the city from every window. She'd asked how he'd found such a fabulous place so fast, and he'd told her he'd had his assistant take care of it. She hadn't realized until then that he had an assistant.
"What did your family say?" he asked. She was instantly alert.
"That I should stay away from you."
He nodded. "Mine too. But mine also said..." He looked at her full pink lips, her round face and creamy skin against the dark brown of his couch. She looked like Snow White. He didn't care what her parents were, only what she is. "Your parents are hunters," he said. "They kill my kind."
Kristin's eyes flooded with angry tears. She hated her parents for putting her in this position "I'm sorry," she said, jumping off his couch and throwing her arms around him.
"For what?"
"They told me on the phone. I didn't want to believe it. I just... I just…it’s horrible. I wish everyone could be friends again. Like they used to be.”
He held her tight and smelled her skin. "Maybe they can be," he said.
She pulled back, watching to see if he was serious. His eyes sparkled. She wondered if she'd ever stop breaking out in goosebumps every time he touched her. She hoped not.
"Maybe we can throw a big party and invite them all."
Kristin laughed. "Derrick, I don't think there's any way our parents will agree to be in the same room together, unless they're trying to kill each other."
"They will if there's a big enough reason for them to come together."
Something about the look in his eyes made her suspicious. "Like what? You know my parents think they’re psychic, right?"
Derrick tilted his head. "Are they really?" he asked, curious. She shrugged.
"Let's find out," he said. "Tell them you're pregnant."
Chapter 9
Kristin's parents cried. Derrick's parents cursed her.
"This is the stupidest, most idiotic plan ever," Kristin said. "I don't know how I ever let you talk me into this." Derrick shrugged. "They didn't seriously curse me, did they?" she asked Derrick, terrified.
"No, of course not," he said. "Just your family." He smiled to show he was joking, but Kristin didn't laugh.
The plan, despite Kristin's reservations, had worked. Dinner was planned for late tonight. They'd reserved a private dining room in a ritzy restaurant, hoping to entice their parents with good food and expensive wine. Mostly their parents had agreed to come so that they could talk some sense into the two of them.
Derrick had insisted she take his credit card and buy something special for the occasion. She'd bought a red dress from Dolce and Gabbana and matching Stella McCartney shoes. When she tried the dress on she felt like she was about to walk down a red carpet. It hugged every curve of her. Her waist and hips filled it out nicely, and her breasts formed a beautiful line of cleavage where most skinny women had a big gap. She wasn't exactly sure it was appropriate for the dinner they were planning, but she didn't care. She'd never owned a dress like that before.
Kristin got to the restaurant early, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. Derrick had said he'd meet her there. He was picking his parents up from the airport and heading straight to the restaurant. They refused to stay longer than was absolutely necessary.
Kristin's parent's felt much the same way. She'd tried to convince them to fly in for a few days, see her new place, sightsee, that sort of thing, but they'd only agreed to dinner. One evening, nothing more. They were planning on flying back to Los Angeles right afterwards. They simply didn't want anything to do with Washington. The idea of Derrick and his family had sullied the whole state for them forever.
When she was shown to their table, she was surprised to find her parents already seated there, sipping wine. Her mom looked beautiful, as always. She had the same red hair as Kristin, though with strands of gray woven through. Her skin was pale and silky, and her brown eyes sparkled in the light of the room.
Her father was balding but still had thick, dark brown patches of hair above his ears. His eyes were brown but lighter than her mother's, and he had a short scar across his forehead. Kristin remembered when he got the scar working in their yard one day—she wondered now if that was the real story behind the scar. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Hi," she said, her heart hammering. Her parents were never early. They stood up when she came in and took turns embracing her.
"So where is the monster?" her mom asked.
"You mean Derrick?"
"Who else would I mean? Unless you've decided to bring some vampire friends and a banshee you've been hiding." She stopped and looked more closely at Kristin. "You haven't, have you?"
"No!" Kristin shouted, then realized what her mom had just said. "Are banshees and vampires real?" she asked, looking around the crowded restaurant.
Her mom and dad exchanged a look. "Here, we brought you this," her dad said, handing her a book. It wasn't wrapped, except for a plastic grocery bag. The title said, Were-Creatures: How to Protect Yourself. On the cover was a werewolf with giant fangs and red eyes.
"Gee, thanks."
Her mom leaned into her so no one else could hear. "Honey, you can't have this child. It's wrong. You must know that."
"They're animals," her father said.
It was at that moment that Derrick arrived with his parents. Derrick was the spitting image of them. He had his father's dark hair and his mother's blue eyes. Both his parents were tall and trim, and his father obviously still had muscles under his shirt, even at 60.
They stood glaring at each other, each side ready to strike if attacked. Finally, Derrick went to Kristin, took her hand in plain sight of everyone, and pulled her to him. They kissed, and when their lips touched it was impossible not to see the passion behind it.
Kristin heard her mother gasp. "Take your hands off my daughter."
"Tell her get her hooks off my son," Derrick's mom spat right back.
"See?" Derrick said, turning on them both. "We didn't burst into flames."
Their parents grumbled and shuffled into seats opposite each other, where they sat glaring at one another and looking like they were stuck in a jail cell rather than a beautiful restaurant. The waiter came around and Kristin felt sorry for him. The mood was so foul at their table that it seemed to seep into the poor guy. When he finally got out of there he looked a bit depressed. At least food was on the way.
"First, the good news," Derrick said, standing up and looking at Kristin. He mouthed the words Tell them.
She stood up next to him. "I'm not pregnant," she said, relieved to finally be saying it. Their parents stared at them for a moment, then everyone started yelling at once.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"What do you mean she's not—"
"That's the best news I've heard all year!"
"What the hell is the matter with you two?"
Derrick and Kristin grabbed each other's hands and took a step back.
Derrick tried to talk. "We didn't mean—"
"Didn't mean to lie to your mother and me? Do you know how upset she's been?" He turned to Kristin's father. "My son, the liar."
Kristin's mother yelled, "Was this your idea young lady? I should've kept you in the house till you were thirty!" She looked at Derrick's mom. "Have you ever heard of a daughter trying to kill her own mother with lies?"
Derrick's mom shook her head before sinking back into her chair. "Thank God," she said.
"Amen," Kristin's father muttered.
"Guys, guys," Derrick shout
ed, sounding a bit like Coach. "LISTEN!" They finally stopped talking and four sets of eyes turned on them, waiting for an explanation. "We just wanted you to be friends again. We didn't know how else to bring you together."
Kristin nodded frantically. "Yeah, you two are so stubborn sometimes," she said to her parents.
Their food arrived just then and Kristin and Derrick were saved. Their parents glared a little less at each other, choosing instead to glare at the two of them. Their anger had been refocused, and seemed to be bring them closer together. Halfway through dinner Derrick whispered to Kristin, "I think it's going well."
He was right, actually. The atmosphere in the room had lightened, and their parents were starting to laugh together, like old times. There were questions and compliments, stilted and awkward, but they were there, and Kristin was suddenly hopeful.
"So, what do you do now Jerry?" Kristin's father asked.
"That’s a lovely necklace, Carol," Derrick's mom said.
When Derrick stood up and clinked his glass with a fork, everyone stopped talking. There were actually smiles at the table instead of frowns.
"This wasn't exactly how I planned this," Derrick said. His cheeks were red and his eyes burned sky blue. "But I don't want to waste any more time. I hope you all can see that we're in love. We always have been, ever since we were kids. You can see that now, right?" Their parents reluctantly assented. "Well then..." Derrick dropped to his knee.
Kristin's brain short circuited and her eyes bugged out of her head. She had no idea where it had come from, but a small, ruby box sat in Derrick's palm. He opened it to exposed a brilliant diamond that shined like sun on snow. It was so bright it almost hurt her eyes. The round stone sat in a perfect platinum setting that made her feel like a queen, and it wasn't even on her finger yet.
"Kristin, I love you. No amount of time or distance will ever change that. Marry me."
It was short and simple, but it was also exactly the right thing to say. Kristin reached for the box without a second's thought. She stared at it, transfixed. Her eyes were wet and she was shaking. Derrick didn't know whether he should apologize or kiss her?
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