His laughter faded, as did his smile. “Home.”
“Yeah, home. Where we belong.”
“If I stay?”
I took a deep breath. “Then I stay too.”
Kelly started to speak, but Gordo shook his head.
“Why?” Gavin asked.
“You know why.”
He nodded slowly. “I don’t… know. How to be. Like this.”
“Human.”
“Yes.”
“That’s okay,” I told him, and I’d never meant it more. “If you need to shift, then do it. If you think you can stay as you are, then do it. I just… I like hearing your voice.”
He looked baffled. “You do?”
“It’s a good voice,” I said, and Kelly sounded like he was choking.
Gavin said, “I forgot. How I sound. Strange. It’s strange. Speaking. It’s hard. All jumbled.”
“It’ll get easier. I promise. I’ll help you.”
“Help me,” he whispered. He took a step toward me, and everything else melted away. He stood in front of me. He was shorter than me by a good few inches. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me, if he felt the same as I did. Confused. Terrified. Desperate. And I needed to make sure nothing could ever hurt him again. “You’ll help me.”
“Whatever it takes,” I promised.
He poked me in the chest. “Thump, thump, thump.”
I took his hand in mine and pressed it flat against my chest over my heart. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Whatever it takes,” I said again, and it was the truth.
He heard it.
His eyes widened, his fingers curling against me.
Then he said, “Home,” and I knew nothing would ever be the same.
HE LAY IN FRONT OF THE FIRE, shifted, his tail curled around him, his eyes closed.
“First thing,” Gordo said, sitting with his back against the wall. “We leave first thing.”
“He’s right,” I said. “Livingstone will know. He’ll come for us. To Green Creek.” Joe and Kelly were outside, the failing light coloring the sky in a bone-deep bruise.
“I know.”
“Can we stop him?”
“We don’t have any other choice.”
I nodded. “He’s… stuck in his
shift. Like Gavin was.”