by T. S. Joyce
Gage turned on the television in the living room, probably to catch the evening news.
Quinn grinned and said “awww” at a picture in Dade’s book of him in a pair of tighty whiteys and Dad’s oversize work boots. He was probably five there.
“Oh, geez,” he muttered.
“Hey, guys?” Gage said softly. “Come in here. You’ve got to see this.”
Dade took Quinn’s hand and helped her out of the chair, then led her into the living room. He pulled her onto his lap on the couch beside his oldest brother and rested his hands across the scars on her thighs.
No one said a word as the story panned to protestors holding signs that declared the government needed to regulate shifter lives, or imprison them, or separate them from the human population. It made him ill to see the signs with Xs over pictures of bears. One sign read Hunting Season Has Begun, and Dade held Quinn a little closer. He’d die before he let anyone hurt her, or any of the rest of his family.
The local news reporter stood in front of the crowd, talking about how long the protests had gone on, but she looked uncomfortable with the story and fumbled the words. “Just a few short days ago, the world was rocked with the emergence of a strain of supernatural creatures. Bear shifters are real, the proof in the transformation of this woman on camera, as well as the family of shifters who turned her.”
Quinn’s name and picture flashed across the screen. Even in this shot, she looked uncomfortable in front of the camera, as if she had shied away from whomever had taken the picture.
Sitting up straight and rigid in his lap, Quinn went pale and her gray eyes round as she whispered, “That’s my driver’s license picture. On television.” Some people might enjoy their fifteen seconds of fame, but his mate was not one of them. She looked like she wanted to bolt and hide.
He rubbed her back until her picture disappeared from the screen.
“I know her,” Boone said, gesturing to the reporter who was describing Quinn’s Change by the burning vet clinic. “She was there when you Turned Quinn. She was the one who told us to stop answering questions.”
“That’s Cora Wright,” Leah said. “She does the local news around here. Her covering this story would get her national attention, though.”
Clutching her microphone until her knuckles went white, Cora said, “We’ve seen how emotional it is up here in Colorado where residents are scared of the unknown. The fact is, there is just so little knowledge on these people that no one can determine if they are a threat or if they are as harmless as any other neighbor.” Cora covered an ear piece on one side and frowned, as if she heard something she didn’t agree with. A frustrated huff left her lips as she pulled the piece from her ear and tossed it to her camera man. “I don’t know much about them, but I was there when they came out of hiding. When they Changed for the world to see, and I can tell you my own personal perception of what happened. If you turn down the volume on the screaming and terror on those videos, you’d see a close-knit family group who saved a woman’s life. Who didn’t charge or hurt anyone, even though one of their own was shot by some trigger-happy idiot with a gun. By my count, they hurt exactly zero people that day, but managed to save a woman’s life. And the shifter who had been shot went beyond the call of his honorable job and stood over her body as if he was protecting her at the risk to his own life. These are men who have served our country—don’t you turn that camera off, Carl—ignore them. These are men who have served our country and our communities. In Breckenridge and the surrounding area, they have helped put out house fires, forest fires, they’ve gone in when buildings were collapsing to save people who were trapped. That doesn’t sound like a dangerous wild animal to me. How many of you could say you’d do that? Put your life on the line every day for people who treat you like this.” She swung her arm back toward the protesters who were chanting, “Cage them all!”
“You there!” she called, crooking her finger. “Would you like to tell me why you are supportive of the bears?”
Four little old ladies with blue hair bustled in front of the camera.
“That’s Aunt Leona,” Rory said on a shocked breath.
Dade smiled at the thought that Breckenridge’s own Blue-Haired Ladies were their champions.
“I’ve watched you out here, rallying people for the protection of shifters. I’d like to hear your thoughts on what has happened here this week.”
Aunt Leona pulled the microphone to her painted lips and shoved her glasses farther up her nose with determination as the other Blue-Haired Ladies formed a wall blocking the camera from the protestors in the background. “I’m here because my niece Rory is a good girl. And since their names have all been leaked to the public, her five-year-old little boy has been threatened, and her mate has been shamed, and for what? Because they are different. My Rory is a wonderful mother, worried about her family, and her mate has treated her like a queen. He treats everyone with the utmost respect. Here,” she said, handing the reporter a printed pamphlet. “I’ve talked to Rory, and here are some facts about what they are, who they are, and some of the challenges they are facing with this news going public. Protesting something, or someone, just because they are different is wrong. They are kind, caring people who do so much for their community. And I and the other Blue-Haired Ladies are calling for an emergency town meeting to discuss this new information about these people who have been a part of our town for three generations. They deserve to at least have the chance to answer our questions. Then we can decide if they are a threat or not. Which they aren’t, and the people behind me are being butt-faced, ninny-lickin’, twit-wagon—”
Doris Leach, one of the Blue-Haired Ladies, reached from behind Aunt Leona and clamped her hand over her friend’s mouth. “Town meeting. That’s what we want!”
Cora turned her serious gaze to the camera. “You’ve heard it straight from the mouths of some of Breckenridge’s most prominent members. Town meeting, and we can settle the rage that is humming in our streets tonight. This is Cora Wright saying give the shifters a chance to explain themselves before you damn an entire culture. Thank you and goodnight.”
The screen switched to a weatherman in front of a screen, wide-eyed as if he hadn’t expected Cora to go off the rails like that. He stuttered and stumbled over his words as he tried to predict a storm that was supposed to blow through tonight.
Gage clicked off the television and shook his head. He looked as sick as Dade felt.
“Rory, was what she said true?” Leah asked. “Has Aaron been threatened?”
Rory suddenly looked exhausted as she nodded slowly. “We all have. Cody’s been fielding phone calls left and right, trying to put out fires as they start, but most of it is just awful. He turned off his phone tonight just to get a break from it. He wanted the family to have a good night and for us to celebrate Quinn’s induction into our crew without worrying about what is happening out there.”
Quinn’s hands were shaking, so Dade placed his over hers in a silent promise that he would make everything okay.
“I think,” Quinn whispered, “we should say yes if they ask us to attend a town meeting and answer questions. People are afraid because they don’t understand you…us.” She inhaled deeply and looked shaken to her core. “If we can, I think we should be open with the public and put a stop to the rumors that are probably hurting any chance of us having a normal future.”
“She’s right,” Cody said from the doorway.
Aaron was cradled against his chest, and Rory stood with a blanket to cover her sleepy boy.
“I’ve talked to every crew we know of, and most of them are pissed, but that doesn’t change the fact that this could get worse and worse if we don’t cooperate. The Ashe Crew has thrown in their full support, along with the Boarlanders, Gray Backs, and twelve other crews across the country. They are willing to come out to the public if we can’t handle this alone. Safety in numbers and all. I’d rather it not get that far, though. My guess is that the government
will make us register as shifters, but this was our choice, and the right to come out or not should be up to each individual crew. As of now, we’re on our own. I’ll call Cora Wright and see if she’ll cover our story. She seems like a shifter sympathizer who could be a good asset to us. I’ll start putting it in motion we are willing to attend the town meeting. Be aware it will gain national attention, though, so you’ll all have to be perfect. Not just okay, but relatable. The public has to feel safe around us.”
Dade inhaled deeply and nodded. “I say yes.”
“Yeah,” Gage said lifting his finger.
“Looks like we’re doing this,” Boone said, arms over his chest as if he’d do this shit, but wouldn’t like it.
The women nodded one by one.
“Okay, I’ll make the calls. Monroe has upped security around our property for tonight but be wary. Shayna slipped past them easy enough.”
“Shayna?” Rory asked in a horrified voice. “I thought she was in the wind.”
Now, she was probably in a shallow grave somewhere, but Dade wasn’t going to say that little gem out loud. Quinn had enough to deal with without Shayna’s demise on her mind. Damon Daye had called him earlier, and all he’d said was, “It is done.”
“You don’t have to worry about Shayna coming after you anymore, Rory. She won’t be hurting you or Quinn or anyone else.” Dade leveled Cody’s mate with a serious gaze and hoped she understood what he was really saying when he murmured, “She’s not a threat anymore.”
“Okay,” Rory whispered, shrinking back against Cody.
“Everyone get some rest tonight,” Cody said, authority in his words cracking against the quiet house. “Tomorrow, we take our lives back.”
Chapter Twelve
“Are you okay?” Dade asked as he rubbed her leg and leveled her with a worried look.
Quinn swallowed her heaving breath and looked around the busy entrance to town hall. It seemed like the entire state of Colorado was outside, picketing or cheering, though she couldn’t figure out who was winning.
“Hey,” he said softly, turning down the country song that was playing on the radio. “You don’t even have to talk today. Cody just wants the entire crew there for moral support. Me and my brothers will handle all the questions, and you can just sit with Rory, Ma, and Leah.”
“And the cubs.” That was the part that worried her. The cubs would be subject to all of this chaos, and her bear got riled up just thinking about those little kiddos being in danger.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding slightly. “And the cubs. Quinn.”
“Hmm?” She arced her gaze away from the crowd that was ten seconds away from rocking the truck.
“I love you.”
The world melted away as she drowned in his slow smile. “I love you, too.”
“We’re going to be okay.”
A tremendous crash sounded, and window glass shattered inward. Quinn screamed as Dade shielded her with his body.
Quinn looked past Dade’s shoulder in shock as a man carrying a large rock was pushed back from the pickup by police.
“Go, go, go!” Monroe yelled, and Dade eased onto the gas and maneuvered through the crowd behind Mason’s SUV that was carrying the rest of the crew.
They were packed in there so tightly there hadn’t been room for her and Dade.
He drove through a security barricade that was opened for them and put the truck in park.
“Will it be safe here?” she asked. Dade loved his ride.
“It’ll be fine as long as the police are able to hold the protestors back. Come on. Let’s get inside so it can settle down out here.”
“I don’t understand,” she said as he helped her from the truck. “Why is everyone so angry? We haven’t done anything to them.”
“Because they don’t understand us. People fear what they don’t understand, and for humans, fear manifests as anger.” He jerked his head toward the protestors behind them. “The pack mentality here isn’t helping either.”
News crews were lined up along the steps, tossing out questions left and right. Quinn couldn’t begin to answer one before another one was asked, and she became overwhelmed under the blinding flashes of the cameras. Her instincts to flee buzzed constantly, and it was all she could do not to give into her inner animal, turn tail, and run back for the truck.
When she looked up, Dade’s eyes were a bright gold, his attention only for the door as he guided her past the throng of photographers. He looked so sure of himself, so stoic and immoveable. If she didn’t know what the inhuman color of his eyes meant, she would’ve thought him completely unaffected by the chaos around them.
One step through the door brought relief as her eyes landed on the rest of the Breck Crew who were waiting in the hallway for them. Rory’s wide green eyes made her look as overwhelmed as Quinn felt.
“What happened?” Boone asked, brushing her hair away from a stinging gash on the side of her face.
“They broke our window,” she uttered on a breath. “They just broke it…with a big rock.”
Ma pulled a package of tissues from her purse and began to dab her face, but Dade had been the one to take the brunt of the shattering glass. His neck was cut in several different places, and red swelled in little droplets against his cheek. “Ma, can you clean Dade up? I’m just going to fix myself up in the bathroom.”
“Of course. Rory, you go with her and make sure she is all right. Hurry, though. We only have ten minutes before we have to be in there.”
“I don’t want you away from me right now,” Dade said low.
How did she explain she was scared to death and needed a minute to calm her nerves in a bathroom stall? He’d think she was weak, and Dade deserved better. He deserved a strong mate. “The bathroom is right here,” she said pointing to the sign to their left. “Wait for me.”
Dade lifted his lip in a snarl, and a rumbling growl filled the space between them. “Come back to me quick.”
With a nod, Quinn bustled into the bathroom with Rory trailing. The mirror was one judgmental little skank. Quinn glared at her pallid reflection and colorless lips. The cut on her temple was already closing, but a smear of red remained. Thank heavens for bear shifter healing. Damp paper towel in hand, she washed her face gently, careful not to scrape off the heavy layer of make-up she’d slathered on to try to cover how scared she was. Apparently, that stupid plan wasn’t working.
“Here, let me,” Rory murmured. “You’re getting your hair all damp.” She snatched the cloth from Quinn’s hand and made quick work of fixing the damage. Then she rifled through her purse, handed Quinn a tube of pink lip gloss, and quickly combed the snarls from Quinn’s wavy tresses with practiced fingers. When she was satisfied, she turned to her own reflection and let off a frustrated sound.
Quinn bounded into a bathroom stall and shut the door behind her. She was breathing so fast she was going to pass out, and then what use would she be to the Breck Crew? She wouldn’t even be good moral support.
“You can do this,” she whispered to herself, wishing she’d figured out how to handle people staring at her when she’d taken a public speaking class in college. All she’d learned was that she could do worse by the end of the semester than in the beginning. She’d nearly peed her pants during the final, and in front of the entire lecture hall, then walked out halfway through her terribly enunciated speech on the use of technological devices in education. Her teacher had given her a C, probably so she wouldn’t retake the class. That, or she took pity because she thought Quinn was having a medical meltdown in front of everyone.
“Quinn? Are you all right?” Rory asked.
She took a steadying breath and opened the door, averting her eyes to hide her panic.
“Oooh.” Rory waved her hand around Quinn’s face. “You look like a bear.”
Quinn glanced at her reflection in the mirror and groaned. Well, now she and Dade could match monster eyes. “This is going to go awesome,” she said sarcastically.
“That’s the spirit,” Rory muttered, shoving her toward the door.
Dade waited with his hands behind his back, a formal gesture she’d never seen him do before. He looked sexy in his dark dress pants and blue button-up. His eyes seemed even brighter near the color of that fabric.
Onlookers were crowded in the hallway, but they were a different breed than the protestors outside. If they hated them, they showed it with dirty looks and whisper instead of rocks and hate-signage.
The Blue-Haired Ladies were there, talking to Cody and Rory, and bobbing their heads with the seriousness of whatever discussion they were entombed in.
“Quinn!” Dr. Voss called from down a hallway as they walked by. “Oh, good, I thought you’d go in before I caught you.” The vet took her hands in her own and squeezed them comfortingly. “I just wanted you to know you’ll have a friendly face in there.”
Relief flowed through Quinn, allowing her tense shoulders to relax by millimeters. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so sorry about your clinic.”
“Don’t be. We’ll rebuild with what insurance is giving us. It’s a frustrating inconvenience, but the important thing is that no one was hurt. I’m so glad you made it out of there.” Dr. Voss leaned closer. “And I’m so glad it was Dade and those Keller boys who found you. I’ll call you when the clinic re-opens and you can start right where you left off. No matter what happens today, you’ll have a job at my clinic if you want it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, of course.” Dr. Voss pointed to her chest. “Animal advocate, remember?”
“Oh, right.” Because she was part animal now. Still really weird to think about. Quinn gave her a grateful smile and thanked her, then she and Dade bustled after the rest of the Breck Crew.
The exchange with Dr. Voss made her feel better. Not all humans would accept them, but some would. Some were good and understanding and accepting—like the Blue-Haired Ladies and the group of bystanders near the window who weren’t shooting death lasers at her with their eyes. And Dr. Voss. And Moira. As Quinn passed, she waved to the doctor, dressed in a coral business suit and nude pumps.
