Page 23 of Hoofin’ It

“Yeah, not your brightest move, kiddo.”

“But it’s a really nice bike, right?”

“Keep telling yourself that. Now, try to keep your phone charged because we’ll only be able to get your last known location if the device shuts off. It’ll kill your battery a bit faster than you’re used to, so keep an eye on that. Did you bring your charger with you?”

I shot him a glare. “Does it look like I brought anything with me? I have Mom’s gun, extra ammunition, my wallet, and my phone.”

“Wallet equals cash equals charger. And a change of clothes. Maybe I should have told you to bring an overnight bag.”

“Getting shot put a damper on doing my laundry.”

“Yet you cleaned your parents’ kitchen.”

“Toxic wasteland. Priorities, Lewis. The biohazards in their kitchen might have killed me. A little dirty laundry never hurt anyone.”

Lewis sighed. “That bad?”

“There were pancakes on the ceiling.”

“Maybe I underestimated their stress levels.”

“Maybe?”

“Definitely. I definitely underestimated their stress levels. Change of plans. Let’s hunt your parents down, make sure they aren’t about to go on a rampage, and then lure out our bad guy and deal with him.”

“I’m telling you the same thing I told them, Lewis. ‘Arrest him’ does not mean ‘beat him within an inch of his life.’ Restraining also does not mean beat him. No unnecessary force.”

“You seriously take all the fun out of life, Shane.”

“Are all werewolves whiners?”

“Yes.”

“How wonderful. If I get infected, does that mean I’ll become a whiner, too?”

“We can only hope.”

I flipped my middle finger at Lewis and muttered so many curses he laughed.

According to Lewis’s phone, my parents were at a hotel in downtown Des Moines. We stopped at a shopping center to buy some extra clothes and get me a new charger before hunting them down. Luck was with us; the place had vacancies. While I understood the reasoning behind sharing a room with my godfather, the werewolf snored so loudly I doubted I’d be getting any sleep for a while.

“Let’s wait for them at the elevators. They’ll come down eventually,” Lewis suggested.

I snorted, pulled out my driver’s license, and held it out to the woman behind the counter. “Can you tell me which room the Gibsons are staying in? They’re my parents. My godfather and I are surprising them. If you need more proof, my godfather can show off his badge.”

The woman chuckled. “Normally, I wouldn’t be able to do this, but as Mr. Gibson was rather vocal about his son, who happens to have the same name you do, I’ll make an exception. They’re in room 406.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

I smirked at my godfather and headed for the elevator. “Wise men take the path of least resistance.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that you only got away with that because you’re a good-looking man with doting parents who sang your praises? If I were a better cop, I’d write her up for that.”

“But you’re not. And I’m not a good-looking man, Lewis. The whole missing an eye and scar thing disqualifies me.” The elevator opened when I pressed the button. Selecting their floor, I considered the best way to surprise them.

Showing up would definitely do the trick, but I’d be a bad son if I didn’t try to make my appearance extra special.

“I’d have gotten around to flashing my badge to find out which room they were in.”