“Kitty, do you have any idea what the weather is like right now?”
“Yeah. A pretty good idea.” I looked out the car window at the falling snow and near-zero visibility.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to check on a friend who needs help.”
“Couldn’t you call the police? Don’t you think you should be safe at home?”
I could almost picture her wringing her hands. “Mom, I’m a werewolf, I can’t freeze to death. I’ll be just fine.” I could, however, be torn limb from limb by rogue werewolves. I didn’t mention that. “Ben is with me—does that make you feel better?”
“Well, I suppose.” The tone of her voice said no.
“Seriously, Mom, I wouldn’t be out in this if it weren’t really important, and I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“That would be nice, just so I know you’re all right.”
“I love you, Mom.” She said she loved me, too, and I put the phone away.
Tyler was staring at me, plainly disbelieving. “That was your mom?” I nodded. “And she knows you’re a werewolf?” Again, I nodded. “How did you tell her?”
“I lied about it until it blew up in my face and she found out anyway.” That was the short version of the story.
“And she’s okay with it?” he said, wonderingly.
“I wouldn’t say she’s okay with it. She doesn’t really get it enough to have an opinion. But you know, she’s my mom.”
Tyler leaned back, looking thoughtful. Maybe wondering how he was going to tell his mom.
It took us an hour to get to Castle Rock, a trip that should have taken twenty minutes. This was ridiculous. I tapped my fingers on the armrest and grit my teeth.
Up ahead, a row of blinking lights—blue police lights, yellow hazard lights—blazed across the freeway, breaking up the gray sheets of falling snow. We couldn’t see the road much, so Ben followed the lights. They guided us off the freeway and up the exit to the middle of Castle Rock. This wasn’t good.
The car in front of us stopped, and a cop leaned into the driver’s side window. After talking a moment, the officer stepped backed and the car continued on in Castle Rock. This didn’t look good at all.
The highway patrol officer came to talk to us next. Ben rolled down his window.
The guy was wrapped in a rain slicker and looked like he was having a really bad day. His voice was monotone. “The interstate’s closed. I suggest you find a place to stay and wait the storm out.”
I could have howled. I wondered if Franklin was manipulating this as well.
“Any idea when it’ll open back up?” Ben asked the officer in a maddeningly calm voice. I wanted to shriek.
“Once the snow slows down and we get the road cleared. It’s just too much of a mess out there right now,” the officer said. “Sorry.”
“Thanks.”
Ben closed the window and pulled out to cross the overpass behind the previous car.
“You didn’t even try to argue with him,” I grumbled.
“I’ve warned you about arguing with the cops before,” Ben said.
My angry sigh sounded like a growl. He wouldn’t look at me, meet my gaze, or stare. I wanted to pick a fight, but he wasn’t cooperating.
From the backseat, Tyler made a sound, half grunt, half growl. He held his hands in fists, braced against his legs, his eyes shut, and was breathing too quickly.
I was angry; he was picking up on my mood. I forced myself to breathe slowly, calmly, and I spoke in a whisper. “Keep it together, Tyler. It’s okay.” Ben put a hand on my thigh and looked at me, worried.