Page 58 of Riding A Cock-Horse
Alastair shakes his head. “We can't do that. Look at what they're giving birth to! The humans—”
“The humans will what?!” I shout. “Whether you like it or not, humans are being brought into this war. They're going to know what's happening eventually. Is it really worth losing any more lives? Is your secret really worth keeping at this point? Because the Tertiaries don't give a fuck! They're going to try to take over regardless. At least we can attempt to get the humans on our side, prepare them for the situation, and do what's better for all of us.”
I can tell the man flat out hates the idea, but what other choices do we have? And I know that I'm right. Not all humans are monsters—and I highly doubt they can be any worse than what the Tershes are.
“Listen,” Arthur interjects, “we’re in Ravenglass. The closest hospital is only a quarter hour away. Why don't we call some shifter doctors that we know to meet us? We can come in, go through the E.R., and say that we’re there for emergency procedures. At least thenmaybewe can take the babies out without anyone realizing what they are.”
I give Arthur a look.
“It's a solid plan considering, but I don't know how hospitals are here in the UK, but in the states, they tag you with wristbands that you have to scan you to even hold your baby, let alone leave the hospital with it. If your wristband doesn't match up with the baby’s, you’re shit out of luck.”
That's right… because in America, people walk into hospitals and steal babies.
#whatthefuck
Maybe it's not the way here in the UK, though. Maybe we can just stroll out of British hospital with four Shifter babies all easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.
It’s not like we really have many other options.
“Ok, but do we know any doctors around here that can get here in time?” I wonder.
One of the pregnant women lets out a low moan, and I'm pretty sure that she's in labor.
“You guys, we need to figure this out now—”
But the rest of my sentence is drowned out by a terrifying, ferocious roar.
“What was that?” one of the pregnant women quakes.
“The wind,” I fib.
Everyone looks at me skeptically, and I shrug.
At least I tried.
Seconds later, something from my worst nightmare comes crashing out through the trees. It looks like a wolf—but on roids.It’s easily five times larger than any wolf I've ever seen. Its eyes are glowing red, and I'm really beginning to think that Dean Stiffdick has no damn clue what he's talking about when it comes to real and not real animals.
“A dire wolf,” Arthur breathes by me.
“What?” I blurt.
“They're one of the rarest wolves ever. A legend. A myth. Said to live in northern Siberia, and only seen by a handful of locals.”
Of fucking course.
The gigantic beast snarls out another roar before giving me a very familiar wolfy grin—I realizethisis Dean Stiffdick. From out of the mist behind him, I can just barely make out Dr. Fuckface in his human form walking towards us in the early dawn light.
“Give me the baby,” he commands.
I hitch a thumb at the little guy sleeping in Sian’s arms.
“You mean Gryffon?”
“Yes, the griffin”
“No, hisnameis Gryffon.”
“No, heisa griffin.”
