WereHuman - The Witch's Daughter: Consortium Battle book 1 (Wyrdos)

by Gwendolyn Druyor

  “Good night, sweet girl.” Sher bent her head down as she rarely did so that Laylea could lick her nose.

  Laylea watched mournfully as the mom left the room. She shut each door behind her but didn’t latch them.

  In the morning, Sher nearly stepped on Laylea when she got up to trudge into the bathroom. The dog had dragged Bailey’s comforter into the room and fallen asleep right in the doorway.

  That night, bedtime happened on time. After last walk, the dogs followed Sher around as she checked the bells. She held open Bailey’s door and looked significantly at Laylea who moped in and climbed up onto the remade bed. She lay down and tried to give Sher her best and biggest puppy dog eyes. But Sher had already left.

  She really tried not to but a small whimper escaped her. Water rushed through the pipes as Sher brushed her teeth and washed her face. The mom talked to Woodford as she settled into bed. Laylea listened to it all and cried a little more. Could she hear pages turning?

  Laylea army crawled to the edge of the bed. She cried in short, hard to ignore spurts.

  “Oh, come on.” Sher sighed and then raised her voice, “Lee, would you like to join us?”

  Laylea leaped off the bed and dashed into Clark and Sher’s bedroom. She pounced on Woodford and chewed his ear. Then she ran out again. She went to Bailey’s bookshelves and pulled her favorite off the bottom. The book was almost as long as she was and it took some effort to get it down to the other bedroom. She tried to throw it up on the bed but was wildly unsuccessful.

  Sher sat up against the headboard with the light on. She held a paperback with no cover. Laylea woofed once, quietly at her.

  Sher looked down. “I don’t know how the crane works. And once you are on this bed, you had better stay because I am only picking you up once.”

  She got out of bed and used both hands to lift Laylea up. When she stepped on the corner of the picture book she picked that up too.

  “Are You My Mother.”

  Laylea looked at Sher hopefully.

  “You want me to read you a bedtime story. Absolutely the weirdest dog. You. With those black alien eyes and your cold tagging nose.”

  Laylea hopped aside to give Sher room as she climbed back under the covers. The mom held the book up on her lap.

  “Are You My Mother? By PD Eastman.” She looked down at Laylea. “Seriously?”

  Laylea climbed up into Sher’s lap. She sat between her legs and leaned against her belly so she could see the pictures.

  Sher turned the page. “A mother bird sat on her egg. The egg jumped. ‘Oh Oh!’ said the mother bird. Gotta go get some worms.”

  Sher did not do the mama bird voice like Bailey did. And she didn’t jump along with the book. But Laylea did.

  “The egg jumped. It jumped, and jumped, and jumped! Out came the baby bird! ‘Where is my mother?’ He said.”

  Laylea tilted her head and looked up at Sher. Sher did not look down at her.

  “I don’t do voices. He looked for her. Down, out of the tree he went. Down, down, down! It was a long way down. So far down that the baby bird broke all his pneumatized bones and lay there until a good Samaritan took him to a vet to save his life.

  Laylea barked. Sher returned to the book. “The baby bird could not fly. Because he doesn’t have any feathers yet. But he could walk. But not as far as he’s going. ‘Now I will go and find my mother.’”

  Sher read it in squeaky voice. Laylea leaped up and woofed. Her tail caught in Sher’s pajama top and wagged the shirt.

  “He did not know. . . stop that.” She brushed the tail out of her shirt. “He came to a kitten. ‘Are you my mother?’ The kitten pounced on the baby bird and bat him around with her paw until she got bored and wandered off. The kitten was not his mother. ‘ Where could she beeeee?’”

  Sher wailed the baby bird’s words in the silly squeaky voice. Laylea’s tail slapped back and forth against Sher’s chest.

  “Then he came to a dog. ‘Are you my mother?’ ‘I am not your mother, I am a dog,’ said the dog.” Sher went to turn the page. Laylea put her paw up on the book. She leaned forward and tagged the picture of the dog with her nose. She tilted her head at it. Then she leaned back and cuddled into Sher’s lap. Sher read on as the baby bird ran and tried to bond with the car, the boat, the plane, and the excavator. She did more melodramatic wailing for the excavator ride. Even though Sher didn’t do the motions, Laylea looked down at the boat, up at the plane, and she wagged her head back and forth in despair at the snort until the snort dropped the bird back in its nest.

  “The baby bird was home. Just then the mother bird came back to the tree. ‘Do you know who I am?’”

  Laylea wiggled with joy.

  “’Yes I know who you are,’ said the baby bird. ‘You are my mother.’”

  Laylea knocked the book onto Sher’s legs. She tagged the mother bird with her nose several times. Then she turned and leaped to tag Sher’s cheek. Laylea danced out of Sher’s lap and tripped over the book. She rolled to her feet and spun in circles of joy on the bed. She barked. She leapt off the bed and startled Woodford with lapping at his muzzle. He growled. She bounded joyously over to a chair and used that to leap back onto the bed, throwing herself at Sher to kiss her nose. She tagged Sher over and over. Then she clambered over to the left side of the open book and nosed the cover. She flipped it shut and climbed back into Sher’s lap.

  “What was that?”

  Laylea tilted her head back and woofed at Sher. Then she tagged the book with her nose and stared at it.

  “What?

  Laylea tagged the book again.

  “I’m supposed to read the book again?” Sher picked up the well-worn, slightly chewed book.

  Laylea barked. Sher read the book again, with less edits and more commentary, giving Laylea a lesson on kitten, hen, dog, and bird biology. And again, Laylea moped for a moment at the dog page and danced and tagged Sher at the end. When Laylea stood on her chest to kiss Sher’s nose, Sher picked her up. She held her up with her rear paws dangling and looked into the dog’s eyes.

  “Am I your mother?”

  Laylea sang out and wriggled happily in Sher’s hands. Sher set her down again.

  “Woodford, am I your mother?”

  Woodford lifted his head and looked up at his name. His tail thumped once.

  “Lee.”

  Laylea sat up and turned all her attention to Sher.

  “Sweet dreams. And fair winds.” Sher turned out the light and scootched down under the blankets. Laylea circled on Clark’s pillow. When she lay down she faced Sher. She reached out and licked Sher’s ear then settled her head and fell asleep in seconds.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Every night of the week that Clark and Bailey were off in the wilds having the Talk and other talks as well, Sher read a bedtime story to Laylea. The mom refused to read Are you My Mother every night. But she did read it one more time and Laylea reacted to the dog and the mother bird exactly the same as she did on the first read.

  Clark and Bailey were expected to arrive home Sunday morning so Sher was concerned when Woodford started barking his head off late Saturday night. She had her go bag on her back when she got down the stairs to find the dogs climbing all over Clark and Bailey. The boys reeked.

  “Mom!”

  “Sheriff!”

  “We have returned to you!”

  The boys tried to extricate themselves from the dogs to hug Sher. She warded them off with her bag.

  “Out. Those backpacks are not coming into my house.”

  While the conquering heroes backed out of the house, she fetched towels from the backyard clothesline. Sher returned to find them already stripping down, putting the filthy clothes directly into the washing machine.

  “Good boys.”

  She sent Clark up to shower first and fixed Bailey a snack while he told her everything he could about their trip. He was over the moon and talking a mile a minute despite his full mouth. He held Laylea in his arms,
telling the stories to her as much as to his mother. The dog licked at his face and hands, even cleaning the peanut butter Bailey dripped on his bare chest.

  “Stop it. That tickles. Here, you eat it off my finger, weirdo.”

  Sher used a napkin to wipe the remnants of peanut butter and dog saliva from her son’s chest. He babbled on about rocks and animals and survival skills and Jay Jay Jay.

  Clark came down wearing his tuxedo pajamas and smelling like something Sher could allow in her bed. He took Laylea from Bailey and the kid pecked his mom’s cheek before racing away. When Bailey and Woodford had turned the corner upstairs, Clark took his wife in his free arm and kissed her hard. Laylea gave them a moment before she kissed Sher too.

  “A raging success. Your son is going to be a ladykiller. He’s smart, respectful, and not afraid to ask questions.”

  Sher pushed Laylea’s muzzle away with one hand and covered Clark’s face with the other. “You didn’t brush your teeth.”

  He laughed and kissed at Laylea’s face instead. Sher went to the fridge and Clark settled on a stool. She set a bowl of berries in front of him and grabbed a knife to slice some apple.

  Clark waved imperiously at the crockware. “Take away this forest food. The hungry traveler wants cheese and wife.”

  “You can have cheese and olives.” Sher returned the apple to the crisper and pulled out a triangle of smoked Gouda.

  “Did you know that Thomas is gay?” Clark whispered to Laylea who did know.

  Sher handed a knife to her love, “And how does Bailey feel about that?”

  “He asked me if we could introduce Thomas to Armando. So he would have someone to have the birds and bees talk with.”

  Sher tilted her head. Clark laughed through a mouthful of half chewed Gouda when Laylea did the same.

  She asked, “You did get to the pregnancy part of that talk didn’t you?”

  “I knew I forgot something.”

  Sher gathered the remainder of the kid’s apple and a piece of bread onto a plate. Clark added two fingers of peanut butter and another chunk of cheese before Sher took both from him.

  “How did the other talks go?” She spun the cap on the peanut butter and stuck it back in the cabinet over the bread garage.

  “Ha.” Clark attached the occlupanid on the bread bag and tossed it to her. “As you suspected, he knew a lot already.”

  She kept her back to him. “Is he mad at me?”

  Clark leaped over the center island and spun Sher into a one armed hug. “Does he seem mad at you?”

  Sher leaned back to hold the cheese away from Laylea’s sniffing. “But all the things I did.”

  “He gets it.” Clark released her to grab his knife from the counter. “As we’ve always said, he’s a strange kid. He’s a smart kid and he knows you’d want to scientifically understand how you affect people.”

  Sher stood from the cheese bin, the fridge door between them. “But that’s not why I did it.”

  “Sher,” Clark asked, “did you know why you were doing it?”

  Sher blanched. She whispered, “Because I can.”

  Clark nodded silently. When she started to close the fridge, he bent under her arm and stole a beer from the bottom shelf without slowing her.

  “He didn’t know how fast I am. He was kind of relieved to talk about it. Said he feels like Superman at track meets.”

  “Why doesn’t he ever win?” The mom stopped with her hands on the plate. “He could win occasionally. That wouldn’t give us away.”

  Clark flipped the cap of his home brew into the trash and grasped the neck in the same hand that held Laylea. He hit the light switch by the garage door and slipped his free arm around his wife’s waist, escorting her to the swinging door. “He never comes in first because if he’s in front he can’t gauge how slowly he should be running.”

  Sher stared at her husband. “We got so lucky with this kid.”

  Clark let her take the lead as they headed up the stairs. “Oh, he tells me we effectively educated him on the benefits of secrets.”

  “We hammered it into him.” She looked back at the first landing.

  Clark half shrugged. “We needed to. And now we need to train him.”

  They passed through the steam billowing out of the hallway bathroom. The water turned off as Sher led the way into their bedroom. She’d left her light on but now she flipped on the overhead light as well. “It’s time to turn the focus from secrecy to control.”

  Clark left the door cracked. He tossed Laylea onto the bed. “He’ll go on trips with Laylea and I and we’ll work in the mountains. You can train him here and maybe at the cabin sometimes.”

  “You showed him how to find the cabin?”

  “Oh yeah.” Clark leaned out of the bathroom, toothbrush halfway to his mouth. “He’s really curious about how you hid it. I told him it was like a more extensive version of the flash wipes you put on my plane and the neighborhood street sign.”

  “Well, not that simple. And I think I’ve improved the tech. We could all go there together soon and he can help me redo it.” She slipped back under the no longer warm covers. She picked up her book from Clark’s pillow where she’d sacrificed the spine to save her place. “That’s not a bad way to figure out how strong he is.”

  “Oh, he’s strong.” Clark spit in the sink and repeated, “He is strong, my love.”

  Sher lowered her voice. “Magically.”

  Clark nodded with a mouthful of water.

  “I wish Grams were here.” Sher set her bookmark in the pages and put the book aside. “I wish anyone were here to help.”

  “We can do it, Sheriff.” Clark brushed her knee on his way to the dresser. “We’re an amazing team.”

  A quick paradiddle on the door and their son rolled on in. “Team Hillen to the rescue!” He scooped Woodford from the floor and found him a comfortable bulge of blankets on the bed. Laylea scrambled over her fur brother to cuddle in Bailey’s lap when he perched cross-legged beside the big dog.

  “I missed you guys.” He made monster face and chewed on Laylea’s ear. She bared her teeth before diving down to chew on his fingers. “Did you girls have any fun while we were gone?”

  “Poor Woodford.” Clark sat on the bed and scratched the big boy. “No one gives you any respect.”

  Laylea fell backwards onto the hound and rolled over to leap at Clark. He caught her and submitted to a bite on his nose.

  “Yeah, Dad. Woodford’s almost asleep.” Bailey yawned his next words. “He’s not in the mood to talk.”

  “Actually, human boys, there is something I want you to see.” Sher leaned over to her bedside table and picked up the picture book.

  She opened the book on her lap and waited while Laylea tumbled out of Clark’s arms to take up her usual position. Sher read Are You My Mother with assistance from Bailey who jumped with the egg and fell with the baby bird. He meowed and clucked and barked in the appropriate spots. When Laylea tagged the dog with her nose and laid her muzzle on the page, Bailey reached over and pet her gently. He looked down and up at the boat and plane and shook his head at the Snort. And when the mother bird returned, he crawled forward and kissed his mother’s cheek as Laylea tagged her.

  “Oh!” Sher remembered all the times that Bailey had come running to find her, kiss her, and run away. Laylea had run with him. This is explained it all. “I don’t know what I was thinking. She’s imitating your behavior, Bailey.”

  “It’s just how we read the book. Check this out.” He reached over and craned Laylea to the ground. “Go get Dad’s book.”

  Laylea ran out of the room. She came back carrying a much lighter book. Clark took it from her and craned her back up. He read the title and handed it to Sher.

  “Hop on Pop. Of course.”

  Laylea walked over to the book and tagged the Pop on the cover. Then she tagged Clark.

  Clark kissed Laylea’s muzzle and tucked her into his chest. “Bailey. Can you show your mom and I wh
at you were telling me about this morning?”

  Bailey hopped up. “You believe me? Yeah. I’ll show you.” He looked around the room. He reached over to grab the paperback from his mother’s bedside table. “We’ll use Mom’s book.”

  Laylea leaped from Clark’s arms, bounced over Bailey, and landed on the bedside table, knocking everything except the lamp off of it. She kept skating along until she hit the wall. The coverless book ended up behind the table.

  “Whoa! What’s up with you?” Bailey caught Laylea before she could slide off the marble top.

  Clark grabbed a book off his dresser. “Here you go, kiddo. Try this one.” He looked at Sher over Bailey’s head, raising his eyebrows at her. Sher blushed.

  Bailey flipped through the book. “You ready, Laylee? Let’s play fetch.” He started reading out loud. “And then his daddy,” Laylea was up. She tagged Clark with her nose. “ . . . was on the bed,” She tagged the blankets at her feet. “Daddy’s arm around his back,” She ran over and tagged Woodford’s back. “ . . . asking him what was wrong. Tad dared to look into the mouth” She yawned. “ . . . of his closet” Jumped off the bed and over to the blue doors of their closet. “ . . . again. The monster” She ran over to the stationary bicycle. Clark guffawed. “ . . . was gone. Instead of whatever hungry beast” On the bed, she tagged Bailey “he had seen, there were two uneven piles of blankets,” She picked at the wool blanket with her teeth. “ . . . winter bedclothes which Donna had not yet gotten around to taking up to the cut-off third floor. Instead of the shaggy, triangular head, cocked sideways in a kind of predatory questioning gesture,” Laylea tilted her head at the book. “ . . . he saw his teddy bear” Laylea ran out of the room and returned with Bailey’s stuffed bear. She ran out again and returned with her own lizard. She set the lizard beside the bear.

  Sher cocked her head at the toys. “She’s brought a teddy bear AND a lizard. I don’t get it.”

  “Sher!” Clark was appalled that this is what she had focused on.

  “It’s okay, Dad. Sometimes you have to interpret.” Bailey picked up Laylea and rewarded her with love as he spoke. “Mom, the bear’s name is Casey. And you named the lizard, Teddy. So,” he pointed at each in turn, “Teddy. Bear.”