Lyssa’s eyes flicked toward the hallway where Gabrielle disappeared, and the slight uptick in her heart rate led me to believe she finally realized her whoopsie.
“I… I see your point.”
“Thought you might.”
She swallowed and licked her lips as if they were suddenly very dry. “So, how would you like to handle this? I mean… yes, I pretty much forced the position onto you. I… I suppose you could always repudiate the decision. The Council hasn’t made an official announcement yet, so we could—”
Lyssa stopped speaking when I pulled her into my arms and buried her face against my chest. “Oh, my silly lioness. Just what makes you believe I would ever consciously do something that would embarrass you in front of your peers on the Council or all the shifters of North America?”
She turned her head and took a couple breaths before she replied, “Well, it would be your right, and… and I suppose I deserve it.”
I kissed her forehead before placing my hands on her shoulders and extending my arms just enough to look her in the eyes. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care how pissed I am. I don’t care how much you might feel you deserve it. I will never consciously embarrass one of my ladies in public. Nope. No way. Not gonna happen.”
Lyssa’s head dipped down as she held my gaze, and a shy smile curled her lips. “You mean that?”
“Silly lioness,” I said, pulling her back into a tight hug and adding another kiss to her forehead. “Of course, I mean that. I’m not in the business of saying stuff I don’t mean. I’m pretty sure that’s what liars do.”
Lyssa’s arms tightened around me as she whispered, “You are too damn good to us, Wyatt. You really are.”
I kissed her head again. “That’s not true. I’m not good enough, and I don’t ever want to start feeling like I am good enough.”
The door of the hallway bathroom opened, and I thought I heard the toilet filling post-flush. Footfalls padded down the hall until Gabrielle returned to the sitting room. She dried her hands with a towel as she walked.
“So, I guess you two kissed and made up?”
I felt Lyssa smile against me as I answered, “I’m not sure we were ever really fighting. Lyssa did reach a wrong conclusion, though.”
“And just what was that?” Gabrielle asked as she arrived at our side.
“She said I’m too good to the three of you.”
A small smile tugged at one corner of Gabrielle’s mouth. “I… think we’re going to have to agree to disagree there. You are so damn good to us, Wyatt. So good.”
Unwilling to re-hash my argument to the contrary, I just snaked my arm around Gabrielle and pulled her to us, kissing her as soon as she came within range.
* * *
I don’t know how long we stood there, holding each other and trading the occasional kiss. We still hadn’t moved when Karleen came through the door and charged in to get her share. After a few minutes of welcoming Karleen home, she stepped back so she could see us.
“Well?” I asked.
“Melody said he could stay,” Karleen said simply. “He actually impressed me. He started the conversation with the most heart-rending apology I think I’ve ever heard. By the time they finished talking, Melody didn’t show any skepticism anymore, and at no point did she act like she felt uncomfortable or afraid for her wellbeing.”
I nodded as I considered the matter. There were so many ways to handle the situation now, and the difficulty became trying to predict which choice was the best. “Do you mind taking him under your wing, so to speak?”
“Hell yes, I do,” Karleen shot back before her serious demeanor dissolved into a huge grin. “If you want wings involved, you’d better call Sloane. But yes, I don’t mind being his mentor for all that is Precious-related. I already asked Melody to put a room at the hotel on my tab until we can get him situated a little better.”
Gabrielle sighed. “That may not be as soon as we—or he—might like.”
She then proceeded to update Karleen on my conversation with Deputy Director Nathanson. By the time Gabrielle finished, any trace of joviality was long gone from Karleen’s demeanor.
As Gabrielle fell silent, Karleen stood in silence for a few heart beats until she huffed a sigh and shook her head. “Well, damn. That’s gonna be a mess.”
Understatement of the month, right there…
27
President Olivia Williams tossed her glasses onto the desk’s blotter and leaned back against her seat as she pinched the bridge of her nose. As much as she chose her job and as much as she wanted to do it and felt she could do it better than ‘the other candidate,’ she grew less enthused about attempting to work with Congress as days passed. She needed more ‘fun’ days… like having a thousand-pound Smilodon standing in the Oval Office.
The last time she spoke with Lucy, her best friend since elementary school—who also happened to be the Secretary of State—informed her that plans progressed toward establishing an embassy in Precious. To some, establishing an American embassy inside the borders of the country would sound ludicrous. Okay… it would sound ludicrous to most people. Unless they knew about shifters. Frankly, Olivia wanted an embassy with the Magi, too; she felt that was an untapped relationship just like the shifters. But… all things with time.
There was a quick double knock on the door leading to her executive assistant’s office moments before the door opened to reveal Clara Wilkins, said executive assistant.
“What do you have for me, Clara?” Olivia asked. She and Clara had been a hugely successful team for years, since her very first term as a city assemblywoman back home. No matter where she went or what job she held, Olivia didn’t want anyone else for a right hand.
“Ma’am, the Secretary of State, the AG, the Director, and the Deputy Director are here. They claim to have a matter of some urgency and would like you to weigh in. From what they said, it’s not their place to make the choice for you on this one.”
Olivia’s eyes went to the frightening stack of bills sent to her for signing or veto. Part of her said it was her civic duty to work through them and respond with a certain amount of alacrity. But… the top of the pile was an utterly atrocious bill she did not want to be a law. She didn’t even want to touch it without nitrile gloves, and believed she’d want a shower as soon as she finished reading it. At least she had a good excuse…
“Send them in. They wouldn’t say it was urgent if it wasn’t. In fact, it would not surprise me if they understate things at times.”
Clara nodded once and returned to her office, leaving the door open. Moments later, she led the petitioners into the office. As Olivia stood to greet them, Clara slipped back to her space and closed the door on her way.
The Attorney General was new… in more ways than one. Mina Vickers had just three years on a federal bench with an impressive case record as prosecutor when the Attorney General’s position became available. She came to Olivia’s attention as a brand new judge who handled a gruesome case that had all kinds of national coverage, and she did it with aplomb, skill, and fairness.
“I’m sure you would not ask to jump the schedule unless it was a matter of importance, so please, tell me what we have.”
AG Vickers nodded to Deputy Director Nathanson, who proceeded to outline the situation with Special Agents Hauser and Burke. He even included a transcript of his call with Wyatt. Olivia eyed the transcript and wondered if Wyatt knew or even suspected Nathanson recorded the call, but that was a matter for another time.
“For such a young guy, Wyatt has a remarkable grasp of the realities of modern politics. If we didn’t live in the Information Age, he could just take a war party and go sort it out. By the time anyone learned of it—assuming someone ever did—it would be so old news at that point as to be immaterial. Of course, without the modern information infrastructure, they wouldn’t have known Hauser and Burke might be in trouble, so it’s a bit of a double-edged sword. Like almost every other facet of the human ex
perience. Right, then. Has anyone looked at the treaty with the shifters? Is there any precedent in there that will give us even a fig leaf?”
Lucy laid the relevant document on the coffee table between them. Well… not the original. It was a modern transcription. The original occupied a shelf in a secure vault in the National Archives set aside for top secret but nationally significant documents. Olivia had it on very good authority that the shifter treaty shared space with the Magi treaty.
“Article Two, Paragraph Seven, states that either party may request the assistance of the other for as long as the treaty stands and goes on to delineate precisely how to go about requesting assistance,” Lucy answered.
Olivia blinked. “That… is remarkably open-ended. I thought treaties were a little more specific than that.”
“I think it has a lot to do with the fact that they’re also considered American citizens. They pay taxes. They register for selective service, but none of their registrations go into the ‘normal’ database. Can you just imagine the fallout if a Drill Instructor or Sergeant pissed off a young shifter enough that he or she lost control and shifted right there in the training formation?”
Mina frowned. “Why did shifters get special treatment when the Native Americans didn’t?”
“Power,” Deputy Director Nathanson answered without missing a beat. “Same thing with the Magi. At the time we ratified those treaties, a company of shifters could have obliterated over half the Continental Army. Magi might not need even that many. Beyond that, I’ve seen certain records that indicate Magi and shifters were very helpful with certain aspects of the War for Independence, and it was almost a quid pro quo situation. Wherein they helped us and we left them the hell alone. In modern times, the balance of power is much more… balanced, but it wasn’t back then. I’m sorry to say that the Native Americans simply were not the threat and power that shifters and Magi were… and still are today.”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see it. I mean… sure, I understand the briefing on the two groups, but I don’t see how sleight of hand tricks and chanting gives a group of people equal respect with the federal government. And the idea that there are people who can turn into animals? Sorry. I just having a hard time believing it, classified briefing or no.”
Olivia met Lucy’s gaze and saw a playful smirk coloring her friend’s features. Olivia could only imagine what outlandish scheme dominated Lucy’s thoughts but couldn’t deny her own curiosity. Their current stature in society precluded the kinds of jokes and pranks that built their reputations in youth.
“What’s on your mind, Lucy?” Olivia asked.
Lucy began her reply with an artful shrug of nonchalance. “Well, if you feel it’s important that the members of your Cabinet who will have the greatest chances of interacting with Magi and shifters be on the same page, why don’t I volunteer to personally carry our request to Wyatt and invite Mina to accompany me?”
“Absolutely out of the question,” Mina shot back. “I’m not even a month into the position. I can’t afford the time even a government flight would require.”
Lucy’s eyes twinkled, and she lifted her mobile as she raised an eyebrow in silent question.
Olivia fought the urge to sigh and won. If the job had been even slightly fun over the past few days, she probably would not have given in. But the job hadn’t been fun, so she did. And gave Lucy one nod.
Lucy unlocked her phone and made a call while the Director and Deputy Director Nathanson looked from the President to the Secretary of State and back again, confusion writ large across their expressions.
“Hi,” Lucy said, “I’m Lucy Perez, the Secretary of State for the United States, and I was hoping to speak with Victoria Magnusson.” Lucy paused, seeming to listen. “Why, thank you. Please, call me Lucy, Vicki. So, we have a matter involving Special Agents Hauser and Burke, and the President has directed us to formally request the assistance of the Shifters of North America. As Wyatt is their Consul now…” Another pause. “Oh, that would be just lovely. Yes. Can you come straight to me? Perfect. Thank you, Vicki. Bye.”
Lucy thumbed the control to end the call and returned the phone to her purse, then leaned back against the sofa’s back as if waiting for something.
Hearing Lucy’s half of the conversation must have been sufficient for the Director and Deputy Director Nathanson that they no longer sported confused expressions, and they leaned back against their seats as well.
With a crack like that of a static electricity discharge—just multiplied by a thousand—and a faint tang of ozone, Vicki Magnusson appeared in the Oval Office. Before Olivia, Lucy, or anyone else could greet the new arrival, Mina leaped to her feet and stood between Vicki and Olivia in a heartbeat, shrieking for security at the top of her lungs.
The door leading to the West Colonnade, the door leading to the hallway, and the door leading to Clara’s office burst open. Suited agents with sidearms drawn charged into the room, eyes flicking about the room as they sought the threat. Mina pointed at Vicki with her left hand, while her right clenched into a fist at her side and she worked her jaw as if to speak.
“No threat,” Olivia said as she stood, making calming gestures with her hands. “There’s no threat here.”
Mina pivoted on her heel. “How can you say that? That… that woman appeared out of thin air! She could kill you at any time. That’s a threat, Madame President.”
“I thought Magi were just people with sleight of hand tricks and chanting,” Lucy interjected.
Immediately, every armed agent relaxed, and the senior agent—Gloria Miller—lifted her sleeve mic toward her mouth. “Stand down. Everyone, stand down. No threat. Ms. Perez and the President were educating the Attorney General about Magi. Sound the all-clear across all sectors.”
As the agents filed out of the Oval Office, Mina pivoted back to Lucy, glaring and clenching her jaw. “I do not appreciate being the butt of someone’s jokes. That… that was so far beyond unprofessional I can’t even think of an appropriate word for it, especially with subordinates present.”
“Oh, lighten up,” Lucy groaned. “No matter what we said, you never would’ve believed us, and frankly, this isn’t something where you can stick your head in the sand and go on with your day any time the topic arises. You’re the Attorney General for crying out loud. You need to understand the world’s a lot more complicated than whatever childhood fantasy you’ve been living.”
Vicki lifted a hand to draw attention and said, “If I may, that was over the line just a little bit. The beliefs she has about how the world works are precisely the beliefs we—both the Magi and the shifters—want her to have. We don’t want to be known to the world, especially when you consider that shifters are effectively immortal. Can you even imagine the mob that would descend on every shifter enclave if people learned becoming a shifter will cure—totally cure—all the untreatable diseases and afflictions humans fear? And usually within the first twenty-four hours? Oh, sure… there’s a chance the person won’t survive the change, but if they’re already dying of Stage Four brain cancer or something, does that really matter?”
By now, Mina gaped at Vicki. “Are you serious? What about Batten disease?”
Vicki gestured at Mina like a gameshow hostess. “Your Honor, I rest my case. And to answer your question, yes, becoming a shifter will cure Batten disease… as long as the person survives the change.”
Mina’s eyes flicked to the people surrounding her for a moment before returning to Vicki. “What does it take to become a shifter?”
Vicki glanced from Lucy to Olivia to the Director and Deputy Director Nathanson. Then asked, “Is this really something we should discuss here and now?”
“No,” Mina replied, her voice defeated. “It isn’t. I’m sorry.”
Olivia approached and placed a hand on Mina’s shoulder. “It’s okay. With the possible exception of Vicki, there isn’t one of us in the room who doesn’t understand the love a parent has for a child… and how f
ar we’d go to save them.”
Mina’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll have my resignation for you by the end of the day, ma’am.”
Olivia fought to maintain a non-expression. “I don’t understand. Why?”
“I… I’m compromised, ma’am. How am I supposed to be impartial when I know there are people out there who could save my son? And how can I ask to plead my son’s case when so many other children can’t? How is that fair?”
“I understand what you’re saying, but answer me this. If I accept your resignation, where will you go from here?”
Olivia couldn’t see Mina’s expression. Didn’t know the war between pure honesty and protecting the possible cure for her son that raged within her.
Vicki eyed the woman with a shrewd expression as she spoke in a calculating tone, “You’d go to Precious, wouldn’t you? You might even take your son there.”
Mina flinched as if Vicki had slapped her.
“Yep,” Vicki remarked. “Thought so.”
“How long does your son have?” Olivia asked.
Mina swallowed hard, then almost whispered, “Mid-twenties, maybe. But that’s the extreme outside of the range from what the specialist said, given my son’s case. His cognitive impairment isn’t too bad, yet.”
Olivia looked up to see Vicki staring at her. The President thought Vicki wanted to say something—the words hovering right at the tip of her tongue—but the young Magi stayed silent.
“Okay,” Olivia said, feeling like she didn’t know how to get past the awful turn the conversation had taken. “Vicki, would you mind delivering a formal request for the shifters’ assistance to your brother?”
The young Magi beamed. “Don’t mind at all, ma’am.”
“Very well. If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll write it up now.”
My shifter senses picked up the sound of Magi teleportation mere moments before Vicki strode into the Alpha’s house from the backyard. She seemed her usual live-wire self as she crossed the space between us like a cutter with its engines locked at ‘flank speed’ and almost hit me on the nose when she thrust an envelope in my face. I accepted the envelope and betrayed my surprise at seeing it held a piece of the President’s personal stationary. After skimming through it, I smiled that it was a formal request from the United States to investigate the disappearance of two agents from their Paranormal Branch just a few miles north of Jackson Lake in Wyoming.
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