"Poor Mercy, her life it is too dangerous, and she would feel bad if my son were hurt." She pointed her finger at me.
"It is not just this.
If it were only the gunman, then I would say--no, Gabriel you cannot work here anymore--but we are friends, still.
But you lied to me.
I say, What is this great big dog? You tell me, Perhaps some mixed breed.
You made this decision, to let my daughter play with a werewolf.
You did not tell me what he was.
You made such a choice about my children's welfare.
Do not call at my house.
Do not talk to my children on the street, or I will call the police." "Mam?," said Gabriel.
"You're over the top." "No," I told him wearily.
"She's right." I'd known that I made the wrong choice the moment I heard Maia's first cry.
It hadn't been Sam--but it might have been.
That I'd been sure it was him right up until the moment I saw Kelly Heart with his gun told me that I'd made the wrong choice.
I'd endangered Sylvia's children.
"Zee, would you back her car out of the garage, please?" He bowed his head and turned on his heel.
I couldn't tell if he was angry with me, too, or not.
Of course, I was pretty sure he had no idea how much of a risk I'd taken.
He wasn't a wolf, hadn't lived with the wolves; he wouldn't know what Sam was.
"Mercy," said Gabriel, helplessly.
"Go," I told him.
I'd have hugged him, but I thought we'd both cry.
I could deal, but Gabriel was seventeen and the man of his family.
"Vaya con Dios." See, I do know a little Spanish.
"And you also," he said formally.
And his sister started wailing again.
"I want my puppy," she cried.
"Go," said his mother.
They left, the girls subdued, following Gabriel, with Sylvia bringing up the rear.
5