She glared at him. “How can you seriously expect me to listen to this? What you said isn’t just insane. It’s impossible!”
Diego cursed silently. Knowing it was probably the very worst way to handle this volatile situation, but not having a better idea, he leaned back and let his own inner wolf partially out. He allowed his eyes to change from deep, dark brown to vivid yellow-gold, upper and lower inch-long canines to slide out, and deadly looking claws to extend. He could have pushed it all the way, until his clothes fell off, thick fur covered every part of his body, and he grew a frigging tail.
But that might be a bit much for Bree and her son to deal with at the moment.
Turns out the fangs, claws, and glowing eyes were over the top as far as Bree was concerned. She let out a little scream and scrambled backward until she thumped against the far side of the vehicle. She probably would have fallen out the door if it had been open.
But at the same time his mother was freaking out, Brandon froze solid. Then a second later, he stepped closer, his expression equal parts relief and concern.
“This is real?” he asked. “This is why I grew fangs in the middle of the diner full of people? I’m turning into a monster?” His eyes went wide. “Crap! Is that why the guy in there was shouting about monsters? Did he know what I am? Was he going to tell the world about me?”
Diego let his body shift back, the corner of his mouth edging up. “That’s the same thing I said when I went through my change, so I understand what’s going through your head. You aren’t turning into a monster, and that guy had no idea you’re a werewolf. He was messed up, that’s all. As far as what’s going on with you, things are merely a little out of control right now. Your fangs came out in the diner because you were frigging scared. Once you gain control of your abilities, that won’t happen to you anymore. I can help you gain that control, if you’ll let me.”
The inside of the ambulance fell silent, the sounds from outside the only thing filling the space. That was it. He’d made his pitch. Now, it was up to Brandon—and Bree—to accept his help or walk away.
Diego held his breath as Brandon turned to look questioningly at his mother. When Bree gave him a tremulous smile and nodded, it was as if a weight he hadn’t even realized was there lifted from his shoulders. When had this kid become his responsibility?
“This is totally insane, but if you can help my son, I don’t care how crazy it is,” Bree said, stepping away from the wall and turning her gaze on him. “You saved our lives. That earns you the benefit of the doubt.”
Diego was so relieved, he felt like laughing, but he restrained himself. Neither of them would appreciate him laughing at a serious moment like this.
“So,” Brandon said, hope warring with worry on his face. “How does this work? Are there classes for something like this, or will this be more like an on-the-job thing?”
Diego opened his mouth only to close it again. Damn, he didn’t have a flipping clue how to answer that question. But he knew someone who would.
“There are some people I’d like you to meet who will help you and your mom have a better understanding of what it means to be a werewolf,” he said.
“Other people?” Bree said slowly. “You mean other werewolves?”
Brandon’s heart thumped faster again. “There are other people like us in the world?”
Diego grinned. “Other werewolves? Yeah, you could say that.”
* * *
When they stepped out of the ambulance, Bree’s heart was thumping so fast she was sure it was about to jump out of her chest and run screaming across the street and down the sidewalk—where it would probably be squished flat by the crowd still gathered behind the crime tape. Because seriously, that was the kind of morning she was having.
Not only had she and Brandon almost been killed, but now it turned out her son was a werewolf. If Diego was to be believed. And for reasons she couldn’t come close to explaining, she did believe him. Bree wasn’t sure which one of them was crazier. Diego for claiming to be a werewolf or her for believing him.
Now, she and Brandon were going with Diego to the SWAT compound so they could supposedly meet up with even more werewolves. Nope, that wasn’t crazy at all.
Her first instinct was to say hell no. Actually, her first instinct had been to grab Brandon and run for the hills. But something about Diego made her instinctively trust him. He barely knew them, and yet he seemed to genuinely care about her and her son. Her ex-husband had never looked at either of them that way, that was for sure. She was stunned at how good that made her feel.
“I need to tell my teammates where I’m going,” Diego said as they started across the street.
The moment they reached the sidewalk, a man stepped in front of them, blocking their path. Average height with wavy blond hair, he wore a pair of dress pants and a short-sleeved shirt, both of which were slightly wrinkled, as well as glasses. The guy hadn’t said a word yet, but Bree could tell from the way Diego’s jaw tightened that he didn’t like the guy. For some strange reason, Bree found herself not liking him, either.
“Officer Martinez, another day, another violent crime involving a suspect who doesn’t fit the profile,” the man drawled, the smile curving his mouth making her think he relished the idea of such violence. He held out a small recorder. “Can you confirm for the record that this morning’s hostage situation was another case of a delirium overdose?”
Diego regarded the guy as though he would rather have stepped on him than answer the question. “Delirium? Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Everyone’s calling it that now.”
“You’re the only one who’s calling it that.”
The man grinned. “Okay. You got me there. But it’s catchy, isn’t it?”
Diego scowled. “There’s a reason we put up crime-scene tape, Hobbs. Because you’re supposed to be on the other side of it. You know any official statement for the media involving an active case has to come through DPD public relations.”
Since the guy was a reporter, Bree expected him to say something about the public’s right to know. But Hobbs didn’t bat an eye.
“No problem.” Hobbs slanted a sly look at her and Brandon, gray eyes assessing behind his glasses, before he slipped the recorder in his pocket and turned his attention back to Diego. “I’m fine with a comment off the record. We both know there’s something strange going on here. The people involved in this recent crime wave are ordinary, everyday people who wake up one morning and decide to do something out of character—like take a diner full of people hostage. The rumors are that there’s a new drug on the street. I simply need a source to confirm it. I’ll never mention you by name.”