The More Things Change

by Emily Holloway

  Over the years, they had picked up some strays. Ryan cautioned against letting the pack get too large. The more members the pack had, the more they had to keep fed and sheltered. All of them were young. Adults sneered down at Maya, refused to bow their heads to her. And Ryan constantly reminded her that a beta who didn't follow orders was a beta not worth having. So they built the pack from the young, the orphaned and the desperate.

  Spencer was the last survivor of one of the region's smaller packs. Marcus had been turned by a rogue wolf trying to replace lost pack members who had then been killed. With him had come his girlfriend Siobhan, the first succubus that Ryan had ever met. That was quite enough for Ryan, and he found all of them tolerable enough. The pack wound up adding Jared after his mother had come to them for help and offered to trade her medical skill in exchange for a place in the pack for her son. Ryan often wished they hadn't, but Maya had chosen just that moment to go all soft-hearted. Werewolves didn't often need medics, but the Donovans and the militia had found weapons that could damage them. It wasn't a bad idea to have one they could call.

  The last had been Kyra. She's the youngest at fourteen, an orphan from a pack of skin-changers. Slightly different from lycanthropes, skin-changers weren't bound by the moon, and the shape they took could vary within families. Kyra was a raccoon, and just as clever as her alternate form was commonly thought to be. Gabby had caught her stealing food, and they had agreed to take her in.

  Only a few of their parents are left now. Jared's father was killed the following year, but he still has occasional contact with his mother. That's one of the things he and Maya regularly argue about. They would all be safer if he would cut contact off entirely, the way the others had.

  The pack has to stay isolated to stay safe, and Maya beats that into them constantly. She's not a bad alpha, Ryan supposes. She's gotten a lot better at it. She's standoffish and headstrong, and she doesn't endear herself to needy teenagers. But she's adapted, learned to listen, gotten better at tailoring her orders to the pack's specific skills. Things had been getting genuinely better for a while, until Jared had come into the pack thinking he knew better than anyone else.

  The arguments never break down the same way twice. The root of the conflict is always Jared versus Maya, but the way the others fall changes depending on the subject matter. Gabby usually sides with her sister, of course. Spencer, Maya's first beta after Gabby, sides logically with Maya but emotionally with Jared. Kyra, who's as mercenary at heart as Ryan is, flips like a coin in midair to whichever she thinks will be the winning side. Marcus and Siobhan always side with each other, and whoever feels more strongly about the argument gets to choose.

  Ryan has already started preparing for the day that the pack is going to split in two. Eventually, an argument will go too far, and a rift will form that can't be mended. Then Jared will leave, and it's a toss-up on any given day who will go with him for good. It's not even that Jared is a bad person—quite the opposite. He hasn't lived in their world long enough to understand the deep-seated discrimination they face. He keeps thinking that things can't be as bad as Maya says they are. He wants to trust people, to build alliances, to help people weaker than themselves. And when Maya says they can't, Jared thinks she's doing it out of cowardice instead of reasonable caution.

  In the long run, staying in Cold Creek isn't feasible. They occasionally hear rumors of how the outside world is even worse, how the military controls everything and supernatural creatures have been hunted to extinction. The patrols talk about it sometimes. It was Nick's lame excuse for why he wouldn't help smuggle Ryan's family out of Cold Creek.

  Ryan doesn't see how the outside world can be much worse, and he's deeply skeptical of everyone's agreement that it had to be. They're living in an information vacuum. Everything they 'know' is probably propaganda from Mitchell Donovan. It wouldn't surprise Ryan if he had told the townspeople the exact opposite, that supernatural creatures controlled the outside world, to keep them in line.

  But the truth is, he just doesn't know. And he can't make it out. The perimeter is too heavily guarded. Jared wants to leave. He thinks that if they work together, they could make it. Maya is too cautious. They're surviving here. It isn't pretty, but they're doing it. Jared gets frustrated with her, which results in Gabby losing her temper, which results in Spencer getting sarcastic, and the argument devolves into trivial garbage and old grievances and nothing is accomplished.

  That's fine with Ryan, because he thinks Maya is right. Until things change—which, given Jackie's entrance into the picture, isn't unthinkable—they should stay where they are.

  He comes back from his daily ramble with news. Gisela Cervantes' pack was attacked during the night, and two of them were killed. It's something depressingly commonplace, so much so that Ryan's only emotional reaction is weariness.

  "Why didn't Jackie warn them?" Jared asks, and Ryan can't help but roll his eyes. The teenagers seem to drastically overestimate exactly what Jackie Donovan is capable of. It's not that he doubts her desire to warn people of raids—only her ability. He suspects, although he hasn't yet confirmed, that Jackie is smart enough to know when a risk isn't worth taking.

  "She probably couldn't," Maya says brusquely, and doesn't encourage further discussion of the matter. "We'll need to lay low for a couple days in case anyone was captured."

  That's routine by now as well. The militia is known to capture people, especially werewolves, to interrogate for information on the people hiding in the shadows. Sometimes they talk. Sometimes they don't. Either way, any time someone is captured, everyone finds a new place to hide.

  "We'll split up," Maya continues, and Ryan concurs. They're less conspicuous in small groups. They can forage and scrounge and come up with some resources. "Siobhan and Marcus together; Spencer, take Kyra and Jared. We'll rendezvous at the warehouse in zone five in three days."

  Everyone agrees. Maya never includes Ryan when she splits them into groups, knowing that he'll do whatever he thinks is best regardless of her instructions. They pack up what few things they have. Their farewells are quick and clean. They've done this before, and will do it many times in the future, Ryan is sure. There's no need to make a fuss.

  Maya stares after her departing pack, brooding, until Gabby punches her on the shoulder. "Come on," Gabby says. "Let's move."

  *~*~*

  Patrol days are Jackie's favorite days of the week. She gets to prowl around the streets of Cold Creek. More importantly, she gets to leave the Donovan complex and get the hell away from her insane family for a little while. There are a few adult militia members that she's usually paired with. Patrols are four hours long and they do two in a day, with a two-hour break in between. It's always one on perimeter, and then one through town. No sweat.

  She prefers the perimeter patrols, only because they're quiet and she doesn't have to deal with civilians. Cold Creek doesn't have a police force anymore, so the militia gets to deal with petty crime as well as supernatural nasties. As much as there's supposed to be a system in place, that doesn't stop civilians from coming up to the patrols to report problems or complain.

  "Hey, I thought I was on patrol with Sandoval?" she asks when she sees Mark Dalton standing by the door with his gun casually slung over his shoulder.

  "He broke his ankle during last week's raid," Mark says.

  "Great," Jackie says, trying not to sigh audibly. She hates Mark, primarily because Mark is a jerk, but also because Mark can't go two minutes without—

  "How's your sister doing?"

  – talking about Valerie. "She's fine." Jackie is careful to keep her tone noncommittal.

  "She get the note I sent last week?"

  "I don't know, man. I didn't ask."

  "But she hasn't mentioned it?"

  Valerie can take care of herself, and there's absolutely no reason for Jackie to get her back up every time Mark perseverates on her. She has no need of an overprotective big sister when her father is Nick Donovan. "Not to me."


  "Does she like lavender?"

  "The color or the flower?" Jackie asks. Then she adds, "Whatever. The answer is yes either way."

  "Cool," Mark says, nodding in a manner that he obviously thinks is suave. "Thanks for the intel."

  Jackie resolves to ignore him. They walk the streets in silence. Mark occasionally asks questions about what Valerie likes or doesn't like, but after Jackie gets annoyed and lists one of her dislikes as 'pushy guys,' he takes the hint and drops the subject. He gets quieter as they reach the bad part of town (not that Cold Creek really has a good part of town). This is where the supernatural creatures hide out, and although they usually wouldn't dare attack a patrol, it does happen occasionally. This isn't a raid, so they aren't supposed to go into any of the buildings or specifically go looking for anyone. Patrols are for gathering intelligence and occasionally picking up strays.

  As they come around a corner, Jackie sees a girl half in a dumpster just pulling herself out. She turns to look at Jackie, and they both freeze. It's Gabby Callaghan.

  "Hot damn, is that—" Mark is already getting his rifle up. He knows damned well who it is. All of the members of the militia are constantly drilled on the identity of wanted supernaturals.

  Mark's quick, but Jackie is quicker. She has her gun up, aimed, and has let off a brief burst of gunfire just as Gabby turns to run. The bullets catch her in the back of the legs and she goes sprawling.

  "Damn, nice!" Mark says, already jogging forward. "Take her alive, nice one, Donovan—we'll get commendations for this for sure—"

  Jackie hangs back a little, because Mark has clearly forgotten one of the cardinal rules of werewolf hunting, probably because he's never actually faced a werewolf. And Jackie doesn't want him to remember it. So she waits for Mark to run over, waits while he grabs Gabby by the shoulder to roll her over, and waits while Gabby grabs his arm and yanks it around, slamming him into the ground so hard that chips of pavement go flying.

  "You fuckin' shot me, you bitch," she grumbles, hobbling to her feet.

  "Sorry," Jackie says, although she isn't, not really, and doesn't feel she needs to be. Gabby knows exactly why she did it, and she isn't really angry. Mark groans a little and starts trying to push himself back up, and they both freeze again. Jackie winces and looks at Gabby. "Make it look good."

  She doesn't have time to brace herself before Gabby grabs Mark's rifle and clocks her upside the head with it. She finds herself lying on the ground trying not to moan too loudly. She hopes to hell that Gabby will keep any other lurking creatures from deciding to kill two of the militia while they lie there and try to remember which way is up.

  "The fuh," Mark slurs out. "Whuh the fuh han'd?"

  "C'mon," Jackie says, grabbing Mark by the collar and tugging him to his feet. She manages to half-support, half-drag Mark out of the bad part of town and back to base. As much as she doesn't want to admit it, they both need medical attention.

  Jackie is cleared by the medics fairly quickly. There's some concern that she has an orbital fracture, but there's not much that they can do about it if she does. She doesn't have a concussion. Her eye is swollen shut, and they won't know whether or not her vision is affected until the swelling goes down. She gets an icepack and a painkiller that barely makes a dent in the pain and is sent on her way. Mark will be there longer. He has a broken nose and a broken jaw. Jackie is thrilled that he won't be able to talk about Valerie for a while. She's also glad that Gabby must have pulled her punch, at least a little.

  She's looking forward to going home and passing out, but instead she winds up sitting in Mitchell Donovan's office. "Got to fill out an incident report, you know," Mitchell says with that disingenuous smile that Jackie hates so much. "So what happened?"

  "Not much to tell, sir," Jackie says. "We caught up with a werewolf, and then she caught up with us."

  "Mm hm. Where were you?"

  "South side. Zone nine."

  "Shots were fired?"

  "Yes, sir. We came around the corner and spotted her coming out of a dumpster. I aimed low, hoping to hobble her so we could capture her and interrogate her about where the others are. Mark went to immobilize her, but he was too slow, and she kicked the shit out of both of us."

  "Were you covering him?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "But you didn't fire when she assaulted him."

  "They were too close, sir. I didn't want to hit Mark."

  Mitchell nods as if he understands this. "Why didn't Mark use his stun gun before he put his hands on her?"

  "You'd have to ask him that, sir."

  "You didn't remind him to?"

  "I generally trust my partner to know what they're doing."

  Mitchell nods again. "Okay. So you came around the corner . . ."

  Jackie gives a nearly inaudible sigh. She's not even up to being snarky. Her head is killing her. She can't see out of one eye. She just wants to lie down for a while and not deal with Mitchell being an asshole. "And we saw a werewolf. I fired my gun, and she fell. Mark went to apprehend her, but he didn't follow protocol and as a result we both got our asses handed to us."

  "How did she get your gun?"

  "She didn't. I was still holding it. She got Mark's gun and used it to knock me out."

  "Mm hm. Let's go over it one more time."

  They go over it three more times. Mitchell perseverates on something else stupid each time. To a point, Jackie doesn't actually blame him. The incident was a cock-up, although that was mainly caused by Mark forgetting that you never approach a werewolf on the ground without your stun gun at the ready. He'd been too excited at the prospect of capturing one and getting commended. And Jackie hadn't technically followed protocol, either—she had covered Mark with her gun, but of course made no effort to intervene when Gabby had attacked him.

  On the fourth time, Jackie is starting to get cranky, and Mitchell keeps getting more and more patronizing, treating her like she's unreasonable for being upset, which is a favorite tactic of his. "You know that we have to go over these things."

  "Yeah, I know that, but I'm repeating the story for the fourth time," Jackie says.

  "So you admit it's a story?"

  "Oh my God!" Jackie loses her temper. "It's just a phrase, for fuck's sake. I don't know why you can't just—"

  "What's going on here?" Nick demands, as he barges through the door. "Sandoval said you've had her in here for nearly an hour. Look at her, for God's sake, she should be seeing the medics—"

  "Medics already cleared her, son," Mitchell says, not losing that smile. "We're just having a conversation about what happened in the field. Jackie didn't follow protocol."

  "Mark didn't follow protocol," Jackie says. "And I got my face smashed up because of it."

  "What the hell was she doing out in the field with Dalton? You sent two kids to do a south side patrol?"

  "I deploy my troops the way I see fit," Mitchell says. "And Jackie is welcome to leave the militia any time she has a problem with my orders."

  Nick's scowl deepens. He drags a chair over and sits down so he can face Jackie. "Just tell me what happened," he says, and Jackie sighs and repeats the story again. Nick listens with a faint frown on his face. Then he turns to Mitchell and says, "What's so difficult to understand about that sequence of events, that you need to keep her in here for an hour?"

  "Well, first of all, I'm curious about why Jackie didn't address Mark's breach of protocol," Mitchell says.

  "I didn't realize he didn't have his stun gun out," Jackie says. "I didn't figure that he was a complete moron, that he would just trot right on over to a werewolf and think he could subdue her with his bare hands."

  "And I'm curious as to why Jackie didn't fire on the werewolf in question."

  "I already told you, she was too close to Mark; I didn't want to risk hitting him."

  "Do you think that was the right decision?"

  "Okay, that's enough," Nick says. "Jackie, I'm taking you home. We can talk more about
this later. You have no right to hold my daughter in here and interrogate her. If she made a mistake in the field, we can address it in training, but you're treating her like a criminal. I don't see you doing the same to Mark Dalton even though he's the one who actively broke protocol. And when we're done addressing any mistakes my daughter might have made, maybe we can discuss why the hell you sent two seventeen year olds into the field on a patrol together even though I had explicitly asked you not to send Jackie out without an adult."

  Nick already has Jackie by the arm, and Jackie doesn't object to being towed out of the office. Her father is still fuming as they walk down the road, but he takes a deep breath and squelches his temper. "Let me see your face," he says, and Jackie moves the ice pack away. Nick winces. "Ouch. Fracture?"

  "Maybe."

  "How's the eye?"

  "I think I can still see out of it, now that the swelling has gone down a bit."

  "Okay, good."

  Jackie glances sideways at Nick as they start walking again. "Is this why I always get paired with Sandoval or Wallace?"

  "Yes. I asked my father not to send you out without someone who has actual military experience."

  "I'm surprised he agreed."

  "He said he would do it until you were eighteen." Nick is visibly frustrated. "This is exactly why I didn't want you in the militia. You could have been killed today."

  Jackie just gives a shrug. There's no way to argue, even though it's not really true. And she had saved Gabby's life. If Mark had been out there with someone more experienced, Gabby would be dead right now. So she has literally zero regrets. But that isn't something she can say to her father.