through the shooting at the convenience store to die here.
If her son died, she’d die, too.
Bree would have done anything she had to do to save Brandon’s life—even putting herself between him and the gun—but it felt like she was buried in Jell-O, unable to close the distance between her and the man threatening her son, no matter how hard she tried.
All at once, a blur of movement caught her eye, then the SWAT cop was knocking Brandon and the guy with the gun to the floor. A split second later, three more cops were suddenly in the diner, smashing through the windows with a deafening crash. Screams of fear echoed around her as the other hostages freaked out, but the only thing she could focus on was her son—and getting to him.
She’d just reached Brandon when she heard Diego shouting for the guy with the gun to drop it. She grabbed her son to protect his body with her own, even as her gaze went to the scene playing out a few feet away. When Ken placed the gun under his chin, every instinct she had begged her to look away, but she couldn’t, and the sight of him taking his own life was the most horrible thing she’d ever witnessed.
The overwhelming chaos in the diner disappeared, replaced by silence, and time seemed to slow as Ken slowly tumbled to the linoleum floor.
There was so much blood.
Bree had no idea if seconds—or hours—passed, but then she heard something so out of place with her surroundings that it immediately snapped her back to reality.
Growling.
Low, soft, pained…growling.
And it was coming from Brandon.
She looked down to find him gazing up at her with vivid-gold eyes, half-inch-long fangs visible over his bottom lip.
Bree had always considered herself to be a strong person. She’d gone through a lot in her life and dealt with it. But she couldn’t ignore the obvious. The accumulated stress of this situation had been too much for her. She was having a mental breakdown. Because there was no way she was seeing what she thought she saw.
Suddenly, the SWAT cop was at her side, pulling Brandon up and talking to him in a slow, calm voice, telling him to relax and breathe, that everything was over and he was going to be okay at the same time he used his big body like a shield, keeping other people in the diner from seeing her son’s face. His voice was the most soothing and calming sound she’d ever heard in her life, and even though he wasn’t talking to her, she found herself breathing in time with his instructions—in through the nose, hold it for five seconds, and out through the mouth.
Bree watched in stunned fascination as the yellow glow slowly receded from her son’s eyes and the fangs disappeared. All at once, his panicked breathing and frantic features relaxed, and she realized it was the first time in months he didn’t seem tense.
There was a commotion behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the other officers—dressed like Diego but with weapons and heavy-looking tactical gear strapped across their chests—quickly moving the rest of the hostages outside, herding them in such a way that they didn’t have time to look at the body on the floor…or Brandon.
It was like they were all working together to keep anyone from seeing what was happening with her son. Like they all somehow knew something unexplainable was going on with him.
“There you go, kid.” The SWAT cop’s deep voice made her turn back around, and she saw him standing there with his hands on Brandon’s shoulders. “Just a few more deep breaths and you’ll be good to go.”
Diego was right. A few seconds later, Brandon was fine, and Bree found herself wondering if everything she’d seen was a figment of her confused mind.
It could have been, right?
She felt a gentle hand on her arm and looked up into the warmest brown eyes she’d ever seen, a little overwhelmed by the concern she saw there. Diego didn’t even know her, and yet he seemed genuinely worried.
“I think we should get out of here,” he said, nodding toward Brandon. “This place is about to be crawling with cops, crime-scene techs, and general-purpose gawkers. I’d rather be somewhere else before they show up. We have a lot to talk about.”
She was about to ask what he meant by that, but then it hit her. Everything she’d seen had been real. Diego had seen it,