by Willow Hayes
I shake away the alluring thoughts and go get dressed, my shirt carefully selected to ensure that none of the mark will be visible. I throw my hair up in a messy bun, not wanting to bother with it today. I put some concealer under my eyes because I look half dead without it, and I take one last look with a big breath and walk out the door.
Akito comes bounding after me, reminding me that I didn’t say goodbye. “I’m sorry, I was distracted.” I kiss the top of his head and scratch behind his ears. “Behave today,” I say in vain because he’s always into trouble of some kind. He huffs at me, and his eyes are filled with humor as if to say not a chance. It makes me laugh, despite my crappy mood, and I give him one more kiss before heading out the door.
There is not enough coffee in the world to get me through the staff meeting today, and the never ending pile of paperwork waiting for me on my desk. Nevertheless, I drive through the local coffee stand and grab a triple shot mocha. I will need the chocolate to make it through today too. I can’t shake this feeling that today is going to royally suck. Maybe it’s the nightmares getting to me, but it feels as though there are ants crawling under my skin, and I feel so flushed that I have checked my temperature twice already this morning, certain I must have a fever, but it was normal both times.
I drag myself to my desk and lock my purse in the drawer. I grab the files of the kids on my caseload, knowing we will be going through them during the meeting today. I run into Noella on my way to the conference room. She takes one look at me, and her eyes widen, taking in the dark circles under my eyes and flushed skin. Before she can say anything I resign myself to telling her some portion of the truth, “I got sick and didn’t sleep well this weekend. I’m fine now even though I don’t look it.” I give her a weak smile trying to find my usual snark, but it’s sorely lacking.
“That sucks. Stay over there then. I don’t want to get sick.” She gestures clear across the office and sends me a wink making my smile more genuine. “Ah there she is, I thought we’d lost you for a moment.”
At that, I outright laugh. “You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me, cupcake. I know you’ve been after my desk and the better view since the beginning. It’s mine.” My desk is in the center of the building with no view whatsoever, and my villainous tone has her laughing.
“I’d watch your back,” she says and gives me an exaggerated wink, making the glitter in her makeup glint with the movement. This is why I love Noella. She has the ability to make me laugh even when I am pissed at the world.
“Come on, hot stuff.” I grab her arm, and we keep walking to the conference room. When we enter we see Myrtle at the head of the table, but next to her is a man I’ve never seen before, and Myrtle looks downright miserable. This can’t be good. I release Noella’s arm as we find seats far away from Myrtle and the mystery man.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s magical, although I couldn’t tell you why I think so, there just seems to be something about him. He is built, like Nakoa. My heart twists painfully at the thought of them, but I shove it aside. He definitely does not look like someone you would find in an office like ours, more like on the battlefield. He has a feeling of coldness about him as though you wouldn’t dare cross him. He’s dressed in a tailored charcoal pinstriped suit that seems more expensive than someone working for the agency could ever afford. Though with supes you never know because this guy could be a hundred years old and amassed his fortune in a previous career bringing him to do charitable work now in order to feel better about himself, but that is not what it looks like.
I catch him looking down at us a few times and hastily look away each time. My normal rancorous self would have stared him down, but the weekend has shaken my confidence. As the staff starts to filter in they all pause upon finding the mystery man in the room with us before taking their seats.
Once we are all settled Myrtle stands to get the meeting started. Upon further inspection Myrtle doesn’t just look miserable she looks incredibly sad, her mint green skin looking more yellow and her are eyes slightly bloodshot. I don’t have time to wonder what has brought this on because she starts off the meeting, “Thank you all for being here on time. I am sure you are all wondering who the gentleman to my right is, so I’ll get right to the introductions. This is Archibald Downing, and he is from the regional office. He’s here to observe and give feedback on our work.” Her voice shakes, and I’m surprised she is able to go on, “This is not evaluative. The regional office is simply looking to refine things.” Her words sound as though they were read straight from a company memo. “I know Archibald will be getting to know each of you in the coming week, but why don’t we start off with introductions before we dive into our case reviews.”
Archibald stands, and my earlier impression of his battlefield prowess is only enhanced when I see just how tall this man is. He is nearly as big as Nakoa, my heart twisting again at the thought. “I have been working with the organization for quite some time now, and am looking forward to getting to know each of you, so I can help this office streamline the work.” His voice is deep and gravely, but not in a sexy way like Nakoa’s. More like he chews on rocks with the jaw that looks perpetually clenched. This all sounds like corporate bullshit for, ‘How much more can we dump on you without giving you a raise?’ This royally sucks. Gods, I hope he doesn’t start with me because I really cannot handle this today.
Each staff member stands and gives their bio then it’s my turn, “My name is Kenna Ainsley. I’ve been with the agency for three years. I specialize in foster kids, but occasionally will take other kids onto my caseload.” While I’m talking Archibald’s eyes are drilling into me, and I can’t figure out if he is just incredibly intense, or if there is something about me that has caught his attention. Gods, I am hoping for the former.
“Let’s go through our cases and remember to be brief with your report for the cases you feel do not need consults at this time. Why don’t we start at the other side of the table?” This is the longest part of every staff meeting. Occasionally there will be an interesting case brought up, but it is usually a series of, ‘everything is good, but let’s talk about this,’ and it gets old pretty damn fast.
I give a brief rundown of my caseload, most of which are established kids and require only the scheduled check ins. The new kids are the most time consuming. I would have brought up the boy Myrtle refused to move, but with Archibald here there is no way I am throwing her under the bus. We have our differences, and she dislikes what she calls my ‘crass nature,’ but overall we both respect each other.
I am just about to sit back down when Archibald’s gravelly voice breaks the silence, “Can you say more about Helka’s case?” My heart starts to ping around in my chest because instinctually I know this can’t be good. While I explain her situation further I can see him fight to keep the sneer off of his lips at the mention of the shifters, letting me know this man and I are not going to get along, which is bad news indeed. “Why do we have shifter families taking kids during this terrible time? Are we not worried the madness will affect them, and the child also?”
I don’t know if he is asking me, or the room at large, but I work to keep my temper in check as I address his questions, “Shifter families are shown to help shifter children transition into care easier. We support shifter families because they want to help. We can’t simply deny an entire race access to the same rights and privileges the rest have. This family wants to give back and support their community. They have raised their kids and saw an opportunity to contribute, so why shouldn’t they help?” I don’t know that I managed to keep the anger from my voice, but it was steady, and that’s the best I could hope for faced with his attitude. Despite his talent for keeping a carefully blank face my words slipped under his mask and allowed the hatred living within to flicker across his face. My stomach turns at his ignorance and hatred.
“Hmm, well we will have to revisit this case in depth later today when you and I meet.” Now it’
s my turn to wear a mask of neutrality because all I want to do is to tell him to fuck off, job be damned, but I won’t abandon my kids. The heat I have felt all morning rushes to the surface once more as I sit down and stew on the asshole’s words.
After the meeting dismisses Noella gives me a look of sympathy. I force a smile on my face and tell her it will be fine, but by the time lunch rolls around I have tasted blood in my mouth multiple times to keep myself from lashing out at the asshole. A part of me wonders if he is simply trying to get a reaction from me.
I manage to just barely get out of the office without losing my temper. However, the moment I walk out the front door I turn down an alley and let out a vicious scream. I am sure people walking by heard me, but I really couldn’t care less. It was either scream, or stab Archibald with a pencil, and I would really like to keep my job.
In the chilly air of fall I look down to see my arms steaming. I stare at them for a moment with dread coiling around my stomach. I ignore the dread and rationalize that it must be because I’ve been feeling so heated today. I call Rya on my way to the café across the street, so I can vent angrily about the asshole Archie. By the time I have finished my lunch I feel ready to head back into battle.
When I walk up to my desk he’s sitting in my chair with his feet up on the scared surface, wrinkling the papers underneath. The calm I had worked so hard to find during lunch is rapidly slipping away. He’s talking on his cell phone pretending he hasn’t seen me, but I know he has. “Okay, I’ll let her know. Yep, alright bye.” He turns a smirk filled with nothing but hostility on me as he spins around in my chair to face me. “That was the regional office. They have made a decision that there will be no shifter families accepting kids, regardless of the child’s shifter status. Effective immediately and retroactively.”
He waits for my reaction because he knows he’s just pissed me the fuck off. I breathe deep and think of my kids. I refuse to abandon them because I’ve lost my job telling him to go to Tartarus, and my temper cools to a place where I can speak, “I will make the proper arrangements. Will that be all, Archibald?” My voice cold and full of fury even as my face wears the mask I learned to don all those years ago.
A glint of humor in his disgusting victory flashes across his eyes. “See that you do. That’ll be all, Ms. Ainsley.” He stands to his full intimidating height, shoves his hands in his pockets, and walks away whistling like he didn’t just wreck the lives of so many kids and families.
As I fill out the paperwork for Helka’s transfer I think of all the progress she has made that would likely be undone with a move to a non-shifter family. I think of the conversations with the Browns and Helka that I will have to have because an asshole full of hatred decided to play god. A flash of the angel that haunts my dreams flits across my mind before I shove it down. I can’t possibly think about her right now. I would lose my last shred of control over my emotions. I finish my last report, clean up my desk, and head out the door. I have managed to keep myself from falling apart, but only just.
When I pull up outside of the gym I take a minute to get myself under control after a few tears slipped out on the drive here, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay. I look at the rundown building that has helped to make me who I am, and with that grounding thought I am able to don my mask once more. I head in and change in the locker room. My mind is so full that I give no special thought to admiring the new gear I am wearing today.
I managed to get to the gym with some time for me to hit the bags before my kids start showing up, and I hope hitting the ever loving shit out of something will help my mood improve before class. I grab my gloves, ignoring pretty much every person in the gym, and make a beeline for my favorite bag. After ten minutes of throwing everything I have at the bag I feel slightly better. I clean up a bit before class and head into the room.
Mateo, one of the few kids in my class who isn’t in the system, walks up to me as I enter the room. He lets me know that he is moving, and this will be his last class. He is obviously heartbroken and trying desperately to keep his tears at bay. I crouch down to look him in the eye. “Goodbyes are hard. I won’t lie and tell you it will be easy, but I know you can do this. I have seen you overcome your fears to find confidence, and you will need those skills when you move. When you feel scared think of us and everything you have learned, and you’ll find your strength again.” His tears break loose, and he throws his arms around my neck, squeezing tight. It’s all I can do to keep my own tears in check, my mask slipping with the onslaught of emotions. “I’ll miss you, Mateo, but you are going to have amazing new adventures,” I say, my voice cracking from the emotion. He straightens up, wipes his tears, and nods. He quietly walks to his spot in the room, his blonde head bent to hide his tears. And my heart is breaking all over again.
Class is over quickly, but even my kids couldn’t calm this storm raging inside of me. I forgo a sparring match knowing I’m too raw to focus on a fight. Reg comes over to talk to me, but in as nice of a tone as I can manage I tell him to please go away. His eyes are full of kindness and affection as he pats my shoulder and turns away. Slowly the gym empties of its members until I am the last still working at it. Reg gave me a key a long time ago, so thankfully there is no one here to witness my freak out because no matter what I do this heat continues to build until I feel as though I am choking on it. No matter how hard I hit the bag I can’t calm the turbulent fire storm inside, so I keep pushing myself to hit harder.
As I’m working the bag it begins to feel as though that storm is trying to find its way out through my skin. The sensation scares me, and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s like the club all over again. The feeling that starts in my chest makes its way down my arms. As I look at them I am terrified to see a red glow licking up out of my skin as though I were on fire. I am paralyzed by my fear of whatever is happening, but my fear only seems to make it worse. As my panic escalates the flames grow until they leap from my skin and onto the bag I was using, leaving my arms free of flames once again. I stare dumbfounded at the flaming bag, my mind desperate to understand.
After a long moment, I shake myself out of it and rush to grab a towel to smother the flames. I have no clue what just happened, but my sneaking suspicion is that whatever it was likely has a magical answer I am unwilling to examine just yet. I am left with even more questions and anger than before. I text Rya, needing my best friend.
Me: Emergency family meeting tonight.
Rya: Sure thing. Is everything ok?
Me: Can we just talk then?
Rya: No problem. Should I bring chocolate? Are you still at the gym?
Me: Yeah but headed home now.
Rya: See you soon.
I just finished telling Rya about the mess that was the last half of my work day, and the terrifying fire incident at the gym. Gods bless her because she is always so calm and steadfast. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn’t be in a much worse place if it wasn’t for her. She confirms my suspicions that the sensations I felt were likely magic based on what it feels like when she uses hers. Neither of us has any answers as to why I am suddenly producing magic for the first time in my life, and the conversation fades, both lost in our own thoughts.
Rya looks a bit sheepish as she pulls something out of her purse. “So when we were at the coffee shop, before I followed you out, Nakoa gave me his business card and said to call if you have any questions because he would really like to help.” She shyly hands me the card.
The simple black card states the business as Jackson Security and Nakoa Jackson as owner. It lists his contact information and address. I don’t know whether to be irritated or grateful. “I can’t call him Rya, I just can’t. He’s a stranger we met at a club! I don’t know how to do this.” My voice shakes, and the idea of calling him terrifies me. All of this, the magic and mysterious marks, and the fact that I can’t control any of it utterly terrifies me. My fear has been used against me in the past, so showing it is a mark of the trust I ha
ve for the person. I want answers, but I don’t know them, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“I know you’re scared, but they might have answers for you. He knew what the mark was, and maybe he will know why, or at least help you find out why, you suddenly possess magic,” Rya’s voice is calm as she explains her thinking. “Don’t you at least want to find out if they can help?”
I examine her guileless brown eyes and can’t find fault in her reasoning. Nevertheless, I can’t simply jump on the wagon. “Sure, they knew about the mark, but I don’t know them. What’s to say they can be trusted?” My history with trust is shaky at best.
“True, trust is earned, but if you don’t talk to them, give them a chance, you will never know if you can trust them. I’m not saying they will have all the answers, nor am I saying you should trust blindly, but Kenna, don’t let your fear decide your future and rob you of those answers.”
“When did you become the village wise woman?” I raise an eyebrow trying to lighten the mood. Akito licks my hand, and I look down at him and ask, “What do you think I should do, huh?” He bumps my hand as if to say he’s with me no matter what, and it brings a small measure of peace. “If I agree to meet with them will you go with me?” I plead, stopping just short of pathetic.
“Of course. We are gonna figure this out, Kenna. Plus, I’ll be along for the ride, so what’s there to worry about?” She smirks and winks, helping to lighten the mood further.
I look at the card again then at the time. It’s late, so they are likely closed. If I call now I can leave a message and put the ball in his court. I plug the number into my phone and hit call. I expect it to ring for a while before the machine picks up, but I’m shocked when a voice answers right away.
“Jackson Security, this is Nakoa.” His voice is all business and sounds odd to me because he’s never talked to me like that.
