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(XXIII.)

"Hmm. I certainly have no idea who they are," Inna murmured.

"You don't." Eric kept on staring ahead into the night. "They're Native Americans. Actually, from the little your brother could dig up, Kennedy is Native American and his mother is African."

"Nice way to mix two races."

He scoffed. "That's a sour combination. What I'm after is the necklace. I have to find the widow or the kids as soon as possible."

"You have school," she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes at her. "As if that's a problem. It's just a farce, to put up with this whole 'living normal' thing."

At his words, both of her brows shot up. "Are you actually calling this," she gestured around him, "living normal? I think you have a poor definition of that phrase."

He tried not to let her words get to him, because he'd had enough frustration for one day. She didn't understand what it took him to wake up in the morning after sleeping at night, to take a shower, dress in proper clothes and head off to school. Nope, she didn't understand, even if she was his friend. And she didn't because she could afford living normal more easily, without having to watch her back every second.

"You should leave," he said quietly.

She turned startled eyes at him. "Did I upset you?"

"No," he replied in a clipped tone.

Inna placed a hand on his bare arm. "I'm sorry if I made you upset."

Eric sighed deeply before looking at her. "Why are you apologising?"

She didn't reply.

"Goodnight, Inna," he said, unwrapping her fingers from his biceps.

"Have a lovely night, Eric." She stared at him a few seconds longer before walking down the porch steps.

The instant he stepped inside the house, his mother's grip landed on his arm.

"About time." She studied his face and bare chest thoroughly. "Did she kiss you?"

"You were eavesdropping. You would know if she did," he said with an arched brow.

Chelsea pursed her lips tightly and studied him again. The female wolf's scent was all over him. "Connor told me what happened."

"The little he knows?"

"You unleashing the beast and tearing down Miami."

He shut his eyes for a moment before looking at her again. "Mom, I understand I'm a monster and--"

"No," she cut him off sharply, though the hand she placed on his cheek was gentle. "You're not a monster. The moment you admit it yourself, you agree with those bàstards out there, seeking hybrid blood to spill." She paused briefly. "Who tortured you?"

He gave her a flat look. "You know who."

It took a moment for her brain to process and piece things together. "Son of a penniless pig. I'll wring his neck with a spanner when I get my claws on him."

Eric backed a step away from the furious woman. He'd come to learn of and appreciate Chelsea's fury, which he also clearly avoided.

"For how long?"

"Maybe four hours?" he said hesitantly.

"That's dàmn too long to torture someone with hot silver!" She was already dragging him into the kitchen. When they reached the table, she pushed him onto one of the chairs. He grumbled as she flustered around, still ranting. His mother was clearly not all right tonight, he thought.