He was a much faster eater than Parker, Santo acknowledged when he finished and saw that the boy was only three quarters of the way through his sandwich. Parker was also humming and swinging his feet while he ate. Strange boy, he decided, and carried the now empty jars to the sink to rinse out.
Once that task was finished, Santo glanced around impatiently, wondering what was taking Pet so long. It wasn’t like she had to dress and do her hair and makeup. They hadn’t even thought to grab her toothbrush last night, let alone anything else. She should be down in the kitchen by now, he thought, and turned to Parker. “Your aunt is taking a while coming downstairs.”
Parker stopped chewing to peer at him blankly and then said, “I don’t think she’s awake. She only fell asleep as I woke up.”
“What?” Santo asked with surprise.
Parker nodded. “I woke up several times in the night and she was pacing every time. But then about an hour ago, she dropped onto the bed next to me. It woke me up. I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t, so got up,” he explained. “She was snoring when I left the room.”
Santo stared at him with dismay for a minute, then closed his eyes and bit down on his tongue to hold back the curse that wanted to slip from his lips. If he’d known that, he would have gone right back to bed on seeing the boy. They still could have had their shared sex dreams. And still might, he thought suddenly, blinking his eyes open.
“Bed,” he announced, opening his eyes and straightening away from the counter. “No school today.”
“What? No!” Parker cried, dismayed at the very thought. “I have to go to school.”
Pausing on his way to the door, Santo turned to frown at the boy. “Why?”
He’d expected him to say he had a test that day or something else he couldn’t miss. But the boy’s answer was simply, “To learn. I like school.”
“Of course you do,” Santo muttered, thinking that was just his luck. Fifty million kids in America hated school and would use any excuse to avoid it, but Parker liked school and wanted to go. Perfect.
“Besides, there are only a couple weeks left before summer break starts.”
Santo grunted at this news, but thought it was a shame it wasn’t already on break. He really wanted to go back to bed, and was considering controlling the kid when the boy asked, “Do you think someone else can drive me to school this morning, though?”
He noted the worry on the boy’s face, but before Santo could say anything, Parker added, “I don’t think it’s safe for Aunt Pet to drive me when she hasn’t slept. According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, there are at least six thousand fatal accidents each year due to drivers falling asleep at the wheel. And that doesn’t count the seventy-two thousand accidents caused just by drowsy drivers who have trouble paying attention to things around them, have slow reaction times, and make poor decisions due to their drowsiness.”
Santo stared at the kid with disbelief. “Did you just make that stuff up?”
“No. I read it at the CDC website,” Parker explained before taking another bite of toast.
“The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention?” Santo asked, recognizing the initials. When Parker nodded, he stared at him with bewilderment. “Why the hell would they have statistics on driving while drowsy?”
When Parker just shrugged and continued to eat, Santo shook his head and said, “Fine. I’ll drive you to school.”
Parker stopped eating to peer at him suspiciously. “Did you sleep last night?”
“Oh, yeah,” Santo said dryly. “I had several hours of uninterrupted sleep. No dreams at all . . . Not even nightmares,” he added with surprise as he realized it was true. It wasn’t the first time he’d managed a night terror free. They had reduced in frequency since his trip to Punta Cana, coming only a couple of times a week now. But it had been four nights since his last nightmare and he didn’t usually go that long without the memories of his years of being held captive and tortured visiting him in his sleep, yet he hadn’t had one last night.
Santo was pondering that when Parker stood up to carry his plate to the sink and began to rinse it. “I have to go home to get dressed and get my schoolbooks,” he announced.
“And brush your teeth and hair,” Santo muttered distractedly, his thoughts still mostly on this new sign that he was getting over a past that had haunted him for centuries.
“Okay.” Parker finished with his dishes and hurried from the room. “I’ll be back.”
Santo hesitated, but then sighed and followed to walk the boy next door. Pet would never forgive him if anything happened to the little nipper. Hell, he wouldn’t forgive himself either. He kind of liked the boy, he admitted.
Bricker saw them coming and opened the French doors in the living room for them to enter.
“What?” Santo asked with a scowl when he noted the way Bricker’s eyebrows had risen. “I’m driving the kid to school.”
“You might want to get dressed then, buddy,” Bricker said with amusement. “You take him to school like that and his teachers are likely to think you’re some kind of pervert. If you even made it to school with him and weren’t pulled over by suspicious cops on the way.”
Santo glanced down at himself and closed his eyes briefly when he saw that he was prancing around the neighborhood in his boxers. Cripes, he’d been in the kitchen waiting to greet Pet in them too. Wouldn’t that have been a heck of a greeting?
“Damn skippy. Something has your boxers in a twist,” Bricker said on a laugh as he watched the expressions traveling across Santo’s face. “It’s almost like you’ve met your life mate or something.”
Santo eyed him sharply. “Marguerite told you.”
Bricker shook his head. “Julius told us last night that Marguerite suspected Pet was your life mate. I’m guessing she was right?”
“Is she ever wrong?” Santo asked dryly.
Bricker eyed him with interest. “You don’t sound happy.”
“I’m happy,” he growled, and turned on his heel to head back to the Caprelli house to get dressed. He ignored the be-robed man who had stepped out onto his porch across the street to get his newspaper and had stopped to gape at him. But when he spotted the middle-aged woman farther up the sidewalk, gawking as she walked her schnauzer, Santo sighed to himself and started to slow. If he didn’t take care of the pair, he’d be the talk of the neighborhood.
“Go ahead, Santo. I’ve got them,” Bricker said behind him on a laugh.
Growling “Thank you,” Santo continued on to the house, entered, and started up the stairs, nearly mowing Marguerite down.
“Good morning, Santo,” she said on a laugh as he caught himself at the last moment and stopped before her.
“Morning,” he mumbled, stepping to the side, and then stopped again as it occurred to him that Marguerite and Julius usually slept late in the mornings. Turning his confused gaze to her, he asked, “Why are you up?”
“I was just going to make breakfast for Julius before the two of you head over to relieve Zani and Bricker. Should I make some for you too? Are you eating again yet?”
Santo simply stared at her. Dear God, he couldn’t go back to bed and enjoy the shared dreams life mates experienced even after he got back from driving Parker to school. He had to take over watching the Purdy house. The knowledge was enough that Santo could have wept. Instead, he growled a grumpy “no” to Marguerite’s question and continued up the stairs.
He’d only taken a couple of steps when Marguerite suddenly asked, “What time do you think repairmen start work?”
Pausing again, he glanced back with confusion. “What?”
“I have to call and get someone to fix the door,” she reminded him. “I was just wondering what time I should start making the calls.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Nine?”
“Right. Mortal hours. Well then, I guess I’ll do that later.” Beaming at him, she added, “I think I’ll make bacon and eggs for breakfast.”
Santo merely grunted and continued up the stairs. He wasn’t hungry. He had to dress, drive Parker to school, and then relieve Bricker. There would be no shared dreams for him.
Six
Pet turned in bed and snuggled deeper into the blankets with a little sigh that turned into a yowl of pain as something stabbed her in the boob. Jerking up from the bed, she peered bleary-eyed at the ball of fur hissing at her with claws upraised. Right, it hadn’t been a something that had stabbed her but several little claws, she realized with a groan, and then flopped onto her back away from the animal she’d nearly crushed.
Mrs. Wiggles. Damned cat, she thought with disgust, and then raised her head to examine her chest. A grimace claimed her lips when she saw the spot of blood growing on her cropped top above her left breast. The feline had got her good.
“Great,” she muttered and sat up, then swung her legs off the bed. She’d spent most of the night pacing and fretting over Santo and whether he’d controlled her, and how dangerous Mr. Purdy’s “cousin” might be. Then she’d switched to considering her plans to take Parker to her place after school today, and making a mental list of everything she should probably bring along with them. Aside from clothes and such, she knew the kid probably wouldn’t go anywhere without his game setup. Which would mean taking the television from his room too since she considered them mind-sucking appliances and didn’t have one.
And then there was Mrs. Wiggles. That could be a problem. She couldn’t take her back to Mr. Purdy’s house, nor would she just leave the poor thing to wander the neighborhood. Not that Parker would allow that. But her apartment was a pet free building . . . she’d have to sneak the cat into her apartment.
The cat, a litter box, kitty litter, and cat food, Pet corrected herself, and thought that could be tricky. The apartment manager of her building was a bored busybody who thought it was his right and duty to know everyone and everything that went on in the building. To that end, he had cameras everywhere and actually watched them like a reality show junky. They were going to have to be very clever to get the cat in unnoticed.