His lips twitched. “I should cluck like a chicken, though. Right?”
I didn’t bother to answer him.
“God, they’re so beautiful.” He picked up the hem of his gown and carefully knelt four feet away from the fence where Seph stood, staring at him. “Pretty Persephone. Is Hades your boyfriend?”
“They’re desexed so they can’t reproduce,” I told him. “They’re a bonded pair.”
“Yeah?” Deacon reacted to someone on his headset. “Shit, okay, okay. I’m coming. Stone, sorry. I’ve gotta go. Thanks again for your patience. See you later, Bast.”
“See you.” Keye was so focused on the animals he didn’t turn to say goodbye.
I waved. “Bye. Thanks, Deacon.”
“Desexed?” Bast asked. “I’ve never heard that term.”
“Ah. Yeah. Male dogs are castrated. Females are spayed. But it being a male-dominated world, few men liked the word castrate. Vets always use euphemisms like neutered or, in the case of horses, gelded. But desexed covers the whole splendid panoply of making sure animals don’t reproduce.”
“Are you a vet?” he asked.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Depends on how you mean that. I am a veteran but not a veterinarian.”
He glanced up, surprised. “How did you end up working with hybrid wolves?”
“My brother’s wife Ariel owns the New World Wolf Sanctuary. Normally, she’s the one who would be here with Hades and Persephone, but she’s due any day now, so this time it wasn’t possible. I work with the hybrids, and I was available, so I’m helping out.”
“So you’re not an animal trainer?”
“Not at all,” I admitted. “I’m just a handler. I know what Hades and Persephone need, and I make sure they get it, but I didn’t train them. That was all Ariel.”
“What’s it like at the sanctuary? Do they live with you?”
“Not like you think. Some people keep hybrids as pets, but not Hades and Persephone.” I sat beside him. “Socialization is more complicated than just nature versus nurture.”
“I’ll say. How did they end up at the sanctuary?”
“Some people, for whatever reason, want to own wild animals. There’s a market for everything from venomous snakes to bears. I’m probably not telling you anything you don’t know.”
“Unfortunately.” He nodded solemnly.
“People breed Canis lupus familliaris with Canis lupus for a lot of reasons. They like the look of wolves, so they want pets who look like wolves but who will be loyal and protective of humans like dogs. Or they want to own something wild. Hades and Seph were rescued from a Craigslist breeder in Idaho. Ariel trained them well, but they'll never be house pets.”
“I see.” He didn't take his eyes off Hades and Seph.
“Other stories don't have happy endings. Hybrids often end up euthanized by people who aren't prepared to do what it takes to care for them. Wolves won’t accept them. They really can’t live like dogs, unless you don’t mind them chewing a hole in the drywall and the exterior wall to escape captivity after they trash your house. Sometimes, like with these two, they look enough like wolves for film work, and are temperamentally stable enough to be trained. These two enjoy having a job to do and exercise and fresh air.”
Sebastian made a noncommittal noise. “If you were with them by yourself, could you go inside the pen? Do you interact with them?”
“I do, yeah. But don’t take that as an excuse to take your safety for granted.” I lifted my hand to the fence, and Hades butted it with his head. “At home, we’ve spent countless hours having fun together. On set, there are about a million rules I need people to follow to make sure there’s no danger, including keeping them in pens and kennels. Crating them when we need to drive somewhere.”
“Do you think I could ever go in with them? Feed them or—”
“I’m sorry. There’s insurance involved, and it’s not allowed. If you were to come to the sanctuary, I could introduce you properly. There are other animals who are friendly there as well. Hades and Persephone were chosen by the production for their wolfier look.”
“You mean it, though? If I went to Colorado, you’d let me meet the animals?”
“The safe ones, yes.”
“I’d love that. Let me just”—he took out his phone—”text Molly. My PA has my schedule, and she’ll know when I can find time to travel to Colorado. I read all about the sanctuary. You do wonderful work.”
“It’s not me. It’s Ariel and her team. And she would be ecstatic to tell you all about it, I’m sure, but fair warning, she’ll hit you up for cash. That’s the nature of a nonprofit.”
“That’s fine. I have a discretionary charitable fund, and I love animals.”
As Sebastian typed, I watched him grow excited over the prospect of visiting the sanctuary. I hoped he wasn’t an exotic animal groupie or one of those glamping photo safari types who would need to be catered to. So far, he’d displayed nothing but a genuine interest in Hades and Persephone.
Plus, he’d followed my instructions to the letter. He hadn’t even reached out to the fence between them. Ariel had dealt with all kinds. It was none of my business what he did, but he looked like a legit animal lover.
“These guys are done for the day,” I said. “Are you?”
“Heavens no.” He checked the time. “Oh shoot. I’ve got to get back to makeup. They’ll kill me if I mess up this wig.”
“Guess I’ll see you around, then.”
“Yeah.” His eyes met mine. “That’d be nice.”
As we stood, things got a little awkward. I waited for him to leave so I could get Hades and Persephone into the crates in my truck. Sebastian didn’t seem to want to go, though. He didn’t seem to be finished with us.
“Was there something else?” I asked.
“You know—” He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck. “I actually live here.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Here?”
He tilted his head. “St. Nacho’s, I mean. I live in the town that owns this property. Well, I used to. My dad still lives there, and I visit often. After we finish shooting tomorrow night, I’ll have a couple days off. I could show you around, or—”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Or proper, actually. “I need to stay with my guys here, and—”
“Oh. Yeah, of course you do. I just thought if you needed anything from the market or wanted to have dinner with me…”
“With you?” That surprised me. In my experience, the talent rarely acknowledged the animal handlers.
They especially didn’t acknowledge me.
The more lovely the person, the more likely they were to avoid me—as if my scars were contagious.
“Yeah, well. I—” His face reddened furiously. “You’re very easy to talk to, and we both like animals, so I thought you could tell me more about what it’s like to live at an animal sanctuary.”
Shock held me immobile. “I can’t leave the gods of the underworld unattended. Even though they’re in kennels, I need to make sure they’re all right, you understand?”