by Lauren Dane
Mia’s mother snorted. “Of all the people on Earth for you to tell that story to, you think your mother is going to buy it? Plenty of nice boys out there, Mia. I’m not opposed to you finding one.”
“Not looking for a nice boy. I’m not getting shot because I have a crush on the Bringer. Anyway, too much stuff on my plate just now. Dating is low on the list. I need to find a place to live and a job first.”
“You have a job.”
“Mom, you guys can’t keep me on. I know there’s some seasonable stuff now, which is why I’m happy to stay on for a bit. But we both know the shop is fully staffed with you and Drew. And I can’t afford to work part-time. Especially once the physical therapy ends.”
“Are you going to go back to school, then? What is it you want to do with your life?”
She sighed. “I was thinking of finishing my degree.”
Her mother shrugged. “Baby, you don’t want to be an engineer.”
“You’re the mom. You’re supposed to encourage things like engineering degrees. Good degree. Good prospects.”
“You don’t want to be an engineer. It’s why you left school to join the military in the first place. I’m all in favor of you having a good, solid career, but I’m not a fan of you doing something you’ll be unhappy with. Especially when you’re plenty capable of doing something you do love. Like flying.”
“I haven’t totally ruled it out. But did you hear two airlines just passed internal rules that they won’t hire werewolves to fly commercial? They said they’re worried about any lunar stuff affecting their pilots even though of course that’s not how it works. Lots of ignorance out there right now. How do you think they’re going to feel about a jaguar shifter pilot once we come out? Hm?”
“Those two airlines are stupid. As your father and I have discussed. Anyway, they’re not the only airlines and you can do other sorts of flying. You can still fly helicopters and small planes. You have options, Mia. Don’t let this attack mess with your head this way.”
Mia blew out a breath. All of that was true. Shifters were often very good pilots because of their keen sight and senses and their excellent hand-eye coordination. But many didn’t go into careers as pilots for various reasons.
“I’m trying. I have to get through the last bit of the physical therapy first. I’ve got a week or two of that left, and then it’ll go down to only needing it once a week or so. Though I’ll continue to work out with Rich. Whatever I do, if I keep on top of this damage, the doctor said there’s every reason to believe I’ll get at least eighty percent of my original strength back.”
Maybe by the time that happened she’d be able to accept she’d never be a hundred percent ever again.
Her mother’s mouth flattened. “This is wrong, Mia. These thugs attacked you because of what you are. This is a hate crime. They need to be punished.”
She nodded. “They should be, yes. But you heard the Alpha down in LA, he doesn’t want to come out yet. There’s all this other stuff with the witches going on now. He doesn’t want to agitate matters.”
“So they’ll do nothing. Some Alpha he is. None of them seems to give a tinker’s damn what happens to their cats. Whatever is the point of belonging to a jamboree if they don’t do anything for you?”
“They’re not all that way.”
It wasn’t as outlandish to think so now. Gibson might be a de La Vega, but he’d done nothing but be protective of her since the first day they’d met. Albeit that was only a little over a week ago, but he hadn’t tried to blow her off. And Max had called her about the gunshot to thank her for yet again putting herself in the service of the jamboree. He’d been pretty cool about it, even apologized for the way he’d asked if she was behind the shooting that first night.
“I will find the people who did this to me. And I’ll take care of them.”
She kept her mother’s gaze for long moments, waiting to see any disappointment or anger and saw nothing but resolve. “You will.”
And that was that.
And she still needed to figure out what to do with her future.
* * *
“Max, this is Bob Whitford from the Smithville Jamboree.”
Max looked across his desk to Gibson before he answered. “Hello, Bob. You’re on speaker with me. Gibson is here with Galen.”
“Good, it’s best they all hear as well. We’ve censured and removed Bertram as Alpha of the jamboree. I’m taking over.”
Max’s brows rose but he kept his composure. “Mind sharing with us what exactly happened? I assume this is about the attack on my Bringer and one of my cats?”
“Yes. Hal Pepper, his girlfriend, Margret, the female with him, Bertram and two others have been removed from the ranks of the jamboree. Once you’re done with Hal, if you decide to let him live, we’d like you to send him back our way. Margret is here, and if you like, you can question her, or we can turn her over to your custody. We don’t want a war with de La Vega.”
Of course they didn’t. Gibson knew that. They were a strong jamboree. Stable, even with the betrayal of his brother Carlos. It was well-known by that point that they had two witches in the jamboree and that added to the sense that they were not to be messed with.
“What’s the motivation? Pepper continues to insist he acted on his own. We can execute him. After all, he did attempt to murder one of our cats in her place of business. But we’d like to know what the issue is.”
Bob sighed. “No one seems to want to say anything. Bertram and these cats have been with this jamboree for years. He’s skipped, we don’t know exactly where. His wife and their son are gone as well.”
“What about the human?” Gibson asked.
“Human?”
“They brought a human lawyer with them when they came into our territory. What’s his story and where is he?” Gibson had been looking for him since that first day, but he’d come up empty. The name he’d used appeared to be fake.
“I don’t know. I...we have an attorney but it’s a she and she’s a cat. Why would we send a human attorney to deal with jamboree business?”
“This was our question. And I suppose now it’s more along the lines of what prompted this mess.”
“We have a new Bringer as well. I’ll get him your info and have him look around and get back to you, Gibson. We sincerely apologize for what has happened in our name and ask that you not judge us along with Bertram and these other cats.”
They’d be within their rights to call for war. Or to bankrupt Smithville. And depending on what they found out, it was still an option. But Max and Gibson, along with the other leadership didn’t feel like it was time for that yet. Not until they found out what was really going on.
“We accept your appeasement. For now. But we want to know what the fuck is going on.”
“We understand and appreciate your patience. I’ll keep you apprised. Understand things are up in the air here. The jamboree is...well, we’re all shocked. But this was not done on behalf of the jamboree. This was the crazed act of several individuals. We’re trying to get to the bottom of it.”
They spoke for a while longer before hanging up. Max turned his attention to Gibson. “So?”
“No use punishing all the cats in the jamboree if they had nothing to do with it.”
Galen spoke up. “I’ve put our best investigator on this full-time. He’s got a team working. They’re pulling together dossiers on all the cats we had here on the day of the shooting as well as on Pepper and the female he was with.”
“Good. I want us working on this. I understand they need answers down there, but I don’t give a fuck about that. My Bringer was shot with silver. For Weres to use silver on one another is an error we cannot allow to stand. And I’m sure as hell not going to stand idly by while my cats are being attacked in their businesses. I want answ
ers, Galen. And I want them as soon as possible. The longer this goes on, the more tempted people might be to want to forget about it. That’s not going to happen.”
“The fact is, Smithville is a tiny, not very well managed jamboree. We can’t expect them to have answers as quickly as we might. We have the structure and training in place for it. They don’t. I’m not saying we don’t need that information. At this point, I’m just not sure we’re going to get it without a trip down there to do what they should know now to already.”
Galen, who like Gibson was Max’s second, stood. “All true. I’m working on my end. I’ll see you both this evening at the gathering?”
Imogene had convinced Kendra it was necessary to have a dinner to honor Mia and her service to the jamboree. He’d tried to stay out of it, especially after the sex, but his mother had gone around him anyway and whatever she’d said had convinced Mia to accept the invitation. She and her family were all invited, though he had no idea if the whole Porter clan would attend or if it would be just Mia. But he’d be at Mia’s doorstep that evening. It was to protect her, of course. She’d saved him after all.
Gibson nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Max snorted. “Yes. Kendra and our mother have been working on the details. I’m just glad it’s finally here so it can be over and I don’t have to hear about it every day. And I admit to wanting to see this Mia Porter in person. Mami says she’s beautiful.” Max raised a brow at Gibson.
“That’s an accurate description.” He didn’t smile, but he wanted to. She was indeed beautiful. He flashed on a vision of what she’d looked like spread out beneath him in his bed. And then later in her front entry when he’d made some stupid excuse to go to her place to check in.
“That’s some loaded silence there.” Galen winked.
“So, what’s the story between you and Mia Porter?” Max asked when Galen had left.
“What do you mean?”
Max cleared his throat. “Really, Gibson?”
“There’s no story. She saved me. Twice as it happens. She’s clever and vicious.”
“And beautiful.”
Gibson shrugged. “Yes. And a Porter.”
Max waved that away. “So what? She’s not her grandmother and you are sure as hell not Silvio. Papi would beat your ass if you acted that way. I just... Well, it’s been a long time coming. You deserve someone. I don’t care that she’s a Porter and neither does anyone else.”
“Look, we had sex a few times. I enjoy her company for what it is, but that’s all it is. Something fun and casual. I respect her. But there’s nothing more to it.”
His brother just stared for long moments before he tapped his pen on the desk. “Stop lying to yourself. In any case, I’ll see you later. Let me know what’s going on with this whole Smithville mess.”
Gibson stood, relieved to get out of that room and back to work. “Got it.”
* * *
She adjusted her shirt a little. And tried to tell herself she didn’t even care what Gibson thought of how she looked. A total lie. She blotted her lipstick and decided not to wear the bracelet she’d been considering.
A dinner in her honor. Good Lord.
When Imogene had shown up at the store, again, and proposed the idea she’d been really hesitant. It was best to keep away from jamboree stuff.
But of all people, it was her grandmother, Lettie, who’d been in the shop and overheard. She’d bustled out to give Imogene a piece of her mind about bullying Mia, but Mia had to explain the situation and her grandmother had cackled, laughing so hard she nearly choked. She’d patted Mia’s hand, told her she was proud of what a fine woman she’d grown into and that of course they’d all attend the dinner.
Then she’d turned her attention to Imogene and told her that while she wasn’t sure any de La Vega deserved to have silver bullets dug from them, that she was glad her granddaughter had more dignity than to step over Gibson and keep walking.
Imogene hadn’t been offended at all, but rather, apparently delighted. The two had a back-and-forth that had left Mia cringing a time or two, but in the end, she and Imogene had left the shop to go get coffee and that had been that.
She had no idea what her grandmother had told Imogene, but the invitation hadn’t been rescinded so she figured it couldn’t have been that bad. She’d seen Gibson that same night—she smiled again remembering just how she’d seen him—totally naked. But he hadn’t acted any differently toward her either, so she made the assumption that Lettie hadn’t drawn blood, or if she had, all was forgiven on Imogene’s part.
Well, no time like now to get her butt out the door.
She locked up and then nearly punched Gibson in the face when he melted out of nowhere as she reached the sidewalk.
He put his hands up. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Hmpf.” She unfisted her hand and resisted patting at her hair, though she did run her tongue over her teeth just in case she had lipstick on them.
“I was thinking it’d be good to give you a ride over to the dinner.”
“Were you now?” As if she didn’t know he wanted to do it himself because he liked to be in charge.
“Better that than the T. And you look so pretty you know you’d get harassed.” He looked down to her feet and raised a brow at her.
She had on some pretty peep-toe pumps that took her barely five-and-a-half feet to five nine or so. Plus she’d gone and gotten a fabulous pedicure, and she wanted to show off the bright red polish she had on.
“What? Just because I can dig a bullet from downed shifters and shoot a gun doesn’t mean I don’t like high heels.” She did, in fact. She had more pairs of shoes than she should have, but she didn’t feel bad about it. As addictions went, it wasn’t a bad one.
“I’m glad you do.” He held out an arm and she took it.
“You look very handsome.” He really did. She hadn’t seen him dressed up before. The black tie against the black suit should have been odd, but it wasn’t. He’d tied his hair back, exposing more of his face. Ridiculously gorgeous.
“I do?”
She buckled in and he walked around to his side.
“Yes.”
“Can’t be as beautiful as you look. You’ve got legs made for skirts.”
She blushed. “Thanks.”
“I wanted to let you know we’re still working on the shooting situation. They’ve removed the old Alpha and several other members from their jamboree ranks.”
“Wow. Really? I mean, good, they should. But to remove an Alpha, that’s complicated I imagine.”
He was quiet awhile before he answered, which wasn’t totally unusual, he was a man of very few words. But this felt different.
“Each jamboree handles it in their own way, but yes, it’s complicated to replace any cats from leadership positions in a jamboree. To unseat an Alpha and a Bringer will be a great upheaval for Smithville. If those fuckers hadn’t shot me and you, I’d probably feel worse about it.”
“I don’t feel bad when people act like thugs and have to pay a price. All for what? Getting pissy because they brought too many cats into your territory and got slapped? It’s not like dominance games aren’t part and parcel of our world.”
“The price will be paid by the other cats in the jamboree. That’s what I feel bad about.”
Beneath that grumpy, broody male exterior, there was a big giant heart. He pretended like he was hard all the time, but she saw through that. Saw through the Bringer he wore like a second skin to the compassion and gentleness beneath.
She knew he’d be uncomfortable if she commented on that so she poked at him instead. A girl had to keep him on his toes, clearly.
“Yes, I’m aware of how the things leaders of the jamboree do hurt others.”
He snorted. “Back on t
hat? I hear your grandmother had coffee with my mother.”
“Apparently she’s still alive. I didn’t see anything in the paper. I’d count that as a success. That and your mother called to remind me about tonight. Twice.”
He may have quirked up a grin. He was unreadable sometimes.
“She respects your grandmother. She can be hard to win over.”
“My grandmother?”
He laughed then. “I meant my mother, but from what I’ve heard and how you are, I’d imagine that extends to her as well.”
“I’m not hard to win over.”
“Ha.”
“Ha? Is that the best you’ve got? Ha?”
“You’re stubborn. And temperamental.”
“I’m resolute and in touch with my emotions.” She tried to sound haughty, but in her attempt not to laugh it didn’t come off as good as she’d have liked.
“Ha.”
“So anyway, what’s the plan for tonight? I don’t have to give a speech or anything? Your mother was less than forthcoming.”
“She likes to keep people on their toes. But as far as I know, it’s just a dinner. My brother Max will make a speech of some kind. He’s a speech type of guy. He’s grateful for your service and not totally unaware of the history between our families.”
“We’ve been to jamboree events, you know. Every year we do the children’s hospital picnic. We answer the call when it’s made.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you at any of the gatherings.”
“There are too many people there to notice, I’d wager. We kept to ourselves and our small group. You were probably prowling around being scary anyway.”
“I’m sorry.”
She was reaching out to touch his hand before she’d even realized she was doing it. She brushed her fingertips over the back of his fingers, over his knuckles. “It’s not on you. And it’s old history, as you point out. I made the joke at the end, you know, to soften it.”
