by M. D. Grimm
Each shifter clan was superior to the others in some way, but none were better. Yeah, so the wolf shifters ran Haven, his pack being the dominant leaders. But so what? That was simply because their ancestor had founded the place. But that didn’t mean they had to be dicks about it.
After he removed most of Travis’s smell, Jack jumped out of the shower and dried himself quickly, tying the towel around his waist. Jager was waiting in the bedroom, arms crossed over his chest and a disapproving scowl on his face.
Jack barely spared his brother a glance and began to dress. “I won’t justify myself to you,” he said flatly. “What I do on my own time is no one’s concern.”
“The pack—”
“The pack can mind their own damn business,” Jack said, angry at himself almost more than at his brother. He was the one causing this rift, him and his nontraditional attraction. Emotions began to drown him, so he focused on the matter at hand: getting dressed.
“Father won’t like it.”
And I’m sure you’ll run and tell him. Jack scowled. To Jager, their father’s word was law. Like the Word of Phoenix, the ancient deity of the shifters. Jack didn’t completely fault his brother for being a good little soldier, considering that was how it was supposed to be, but Jack couldn’t do the same. Not after all he’d seen and done, the time spent outside of Haven.
He liked difference. He liked talking with other shifters, learning what their animal souls were like, who they were deep down. He’d always been curious. And his attachment to Travis had grown from that. A blind cougar shifter. He’d never met one of those before.
He buttoned his shirt and turned.
Jager still scowled. “Don’t fuck this up. You fuck with your reputation, you fuck with mine and that of the pack.”
Jack narrowed his eyes, a growl vibrating in his chest. “I answer to the voters, Jager. Not the mayor’s office. Not even to Dad. The voters put me here. The bears, the cougars, the cats, and dogs, and yes, even the humans. They voted to put me in that office, and I’ll be damned if I let them down.”
Jager shot to his feet, his own growl loosened. “Don’t be naïve. The only reason you’re sheriff is because you’re Sheriff Jeffrey Ulger’s son and the wolves want it that way.”
“Is that how you got to be sheriff? And mayor? You saying we can’t do anything on our own merits?”
“Check the facts, little brother, and stow your insult. The Ulger pack owns this town. And the pack comes first.”
“Imelda founded Haven for all shifters, dumbass.”
Jager’s mouth twisted into a hateful, pitying smile. “Still spouting that party line? Wake up, pup. The only reason Haven has survived is because of our iron fist. We keep things orderly.”
“By Phoenix, Jag. Orderly shouldn’t mean authoritarian. Or fascist. You went to university and the academy. You saw what the rest of the world is like.”
“Yeah, I did. Messy and chaotic.”
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why did he even bother?
“Get with the program, pup, and act like a wolf. Or you might find yourself left out in the cold.” Then Jager stalked out.
Jack heaved a large sigh as a chill ran down his spine. Dinner tonight would not be a happy affair.
She finally made it! Thank Almighty God! After all the searching, scouting, and covert operations, the Knights had finally found the shifters’ base. The headquarters for all their evil plans. And she was given the duty of infiltrating it, recording its defenses and how many shifters lived here, what kinds and so on. She was thrilled, feeling certain she would do her leader, the noble Arcas, proud.
Only the streetlights observed her as she drove down the narrow road in her small car. The cold bit into her flesh, and she wished her heater had a higher setting. Montana! Shit, what an awful place to live!
Give her the beach, the palm trees, the warm wind, and the lapping of waves on the shore. But she knew her duty, she knew what had to be done, and she was honored to be the one chosen to do it. Of all the knights, she had been singled out for this.
The town was relatively small, but she didn’t underestimate the threat the creatures living here represented. She knew all about shifters, at least, everything the Knights knew. She couldn’t understand why humans would choose to live alongside these… abominations. These monsters. How damaged mentally did you have to be to live alongside a creature that could shift in an instant, attack, and possibly eat you?
She shuddered as the bright lights of a small hotel caught her eye. Perfect. Since the place didn’t get many tourists, she’d been worried there might not be a place to stay. Gratefully she pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. She contemplated the cold outside and scowled. It made her hesitate before she got out of her car. “Haven” (What a ridiculous name!) was quiet. It was almost serene, which made a hard chill slither down her spine. How could a place so populated with monsters be so peaceful? Shouldn’t they be running around on all fours, indulging their savage natures?
Frowning, she looked around, shivering when the wind picked up. Her black hair came loose from her scarf where it was wrapped around her neck and flew around her head, almost invisible in the dark. All the windows of the markets, the houses, the mechanic’s shop, were dark. But down the road, lights from a hospital open 24/7 lit the night sky.
A hospital! She never expected to see one in a place like this. It puzzled her. Monsters need hospitals? Well, maybe it was for the few humans living here. But that also gave her pause. She’d been told the humans who lived here were chattel or slaves, and sometimes food. So why the hospital? Why the concern? What had the Knights missed? Well, it was her job to find out.
Shaking her head, she locked her car and walked to the hotel’s front door. Soft lighting lit the small lobby, and she noticed two comfy chairs as she let the door swing shut behind her. Making her way toward the desk, she raised her head from behind her scarf, freeing her mouth, and tapped the bell beside the “For Service” sign.
Nothing. She tapped the bell again, and again nothing. It was only after the third tap that she heard movement through the door behind the counter. She braced herself, not knowing what sort of person, or shifter, would be greeting her. Diligent training allowed her to hide her fear, making her face serene. She needed all the calm she could muster as she anticipated the monster that might appear.
Instead, what she got was a tiny woman, somewhere between the ages of thirty and fifty, though her white hair indicated on the older scale. The woman slumped a little, her short hair in curlers, and wore a fuzzy pink robe.
Was this a shifter? Her jaw nearly dropped in surprise.
“Hello, dearie.” The lady’s voice was clear and strong. “Are you lost? You must be, to come into town this late. Why, you look like you’re freezing. You must take a room for the night. I won’t feel right if you simply ask for directions and try to drive in this dark. It’s not that much, only twenty a night. What’s your name?”
The woman slid the register across the counter.
She couldn’t find her words for a moment. The kindness of this fiend—it was completely unexpected.
“Shannon,” she said as she signed her name. “My name is Shannon. And I’m not lost. In fact, I would like a room. For a week.”
Chapter Eight
Jack finished writing up the report he’d been unable to finish the previous day. He leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. Dinner hadn’t been a complete disaster, but it had been full of tension and unspoken arguments. He’d received another lecture from his father about pack values. You’d have thought he’d forgotten a wedding or a funeral rather than a dinner. And they had family dinners about once a week. To his surprise and relief, Jager didn’t mention the feline smell on his clothes. Jack still wondered why. Well, he decided finally, Jager didn’t have anything to accuse him of, except being near a feline shifter, and that was hardly a crime considering how many lived in Haven.
Jack wanted to call Tra
vis. His fingers itched to dial the number. But he was afraid Travis would tell him to stay away, that nothing could happen between them. Then Jack would be alone, isolated, betraying his pack and pursuing someone who didn’t want to be pursued.
Sometimes his own childishness disgusted him.
He picked up his cell at the same moment the dispatch door opened and his sister rolled her chair over to the opening. Jack set the phone back down.
“Hey, Jack. Lindy says a young woman checked into the hotel late last night. She also said the woman is not a shifter. She doesn’t seem to know about shifters, either.”
Jack frowned. “Probably lost or something.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Lindy says the woman, Shannon is her name, took a room for a week.”
That was peculiar. The hotel in town was for newcomers to Haven, temporary homes for shifters and human allies. “But humans don’t come here unless they’re lost,” he repeated slowly, staring at his sister. “We’re not even on most maps.”
Jena nodded, her eyes showing concern. “I know. Odd, isn’t it? I mean, she’s probably harmless, right?”
“No nonshifter stranger is harmless,” Jack said. “Not when we have people here used to shifting whenever they please, running around on all fours. No, I have to alert everyone to be cautious.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Dammit. The young ones will be tempted to make a scene.”
“They aren’t that stupid.”
“Some are,” he said, tapping his finger on the desk. He was sure of that. Some young, cocky teens would no doubt find it hilarious to shift in front of a stranger, or if they were one of the more exotic shifters, they might love to stage a mock attack, just to make the hapless visitor scream. The shifters who grew up here were naïve about the outside world. While they were told that Haven was unique, they could never fully understand, not even with the internet, until they actually left this town and journeyed elsewhere. There were no consequence to shifting in public—it was the norm. Jack hadn’t truly understood until he attended the University of Montana and encountered nothing but humans who didn’t know about shifters. He’d had to watch himself carefully.
“And it only takes one,” Jack said, finishing his thought.
Jena twirled a lock of brown hair around her finger, which she did when she was nervous. “Well, at least if it did happen and she ran out of town and told someone, they’re not likely to believe her, right? I mean, shifters don’t exist in the real world.”
He nodded absently, twirling a pencil in his hand. Still… he’d rather not have that theory tested. He’d heard from his father that there was an organization gaining power across the country, devoted to the eradication of shifters. His father got his information from other packs outside Haven. If they got wind of the tale of this hysterical person, who knew what hell might be unleashed upon his town? The town flourished because they were secret, hidden.
No. This had to be taken care of before anything happened.
“What did Lindy say she looked like?” he asked his sister.
Travis walked aimlessly around town. He hoped the cold air would not only help him think, but sleep, as he had slept fitfully last night. A good walk through the snow that had accumulated the night before should do the trick. The crisp air certainly made him feel better. His cane crunched on the snow, and he listened to the occasional vehicle going past, the conversations of other citizens, friends and families visiting the small number of stores. He knew them, knew their voices, their scents. They all greeted him when they passed, and he returned their greetings with a smile, knowing he belonged. No matter what the future held, he knew that he belonged here.
Then came the sound of small feet crunching through the snow, running up behind him. He continued walking, unconcerned, waiting for those feet, which belonged to a child, to pause and launch himself at his back.
Travis turned at just the right moment and caught the child in his arms. He knew who it was: Devon. This was a regular routine for the two of them, and neither seemed to grow tired of it.
Devon squealed with laughter. “I almost got you!”
“I disagree.” Travis laughed and tickled the six-year-old’s ribs. Devon giggled and squirmed, and Travis let him go, amused. It was only eight in the morning, yet the boy already smelled of candy.
“I so almost got you!” Devon insisted.
“You so didn’t!” Travis responded, using the same tone. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t even get me the first time you snuck up on me.”
“Well, you remember wrong,” Devon said in a snotty tone.
He was right. Devon had successfully launched himself onto Travis’s back that first time about a year ago, startling him out of his dark thoughts. Sure, he might have great hearing, but on the other hand, who expected to be attacked by a then five-year-old rabbit shifter?
“Why aren’t you in school?” Travis asked as he resumed walking.
“Day off,” Devon said in a sing-song voice.
“What for? I swear, you kids don’t spend nearly enough time in school. Where are you going to learn all those things you need to know to go to college?”
Devon took Travis’s hand and swung them as they walked. “I don’t wanna go to college. School stinks. I’d rather run like my parents up in the hills. I can’t wait until I get to be a rabbit!”
Travis enjoyed the boy’s innocence and youth, his eager anticipation of his first shift. Travis still remembered his own yearning for that, to be like the rest of his family. Since the ability to shift started at puberty, poor Devon had several agonizing years to wait.
“I’m sure you’ll be a fast and sneaky one,” he said.
“Of course I will. Oh, there’s Mom. Gotta go!” Devon ran off, the sound of his feet fading rapidly. Travis sighed and continued on his walk, listening and smelling, anticipating another trip into the mountains. He’d go well before dusk and shift, to see if his experience of renewed sight had been a fluke.
Someone passed him, a woman whose scent made his skin itch. He stopped and tilted his head in her direction. After a second or two, he decided to follow her. He felt pulled along by the scent now making his stomach churn and his cougar want to lash out. He maintained a short distance behind her, determined not to lose her.
Who was she? Why did her smell make him want to attack? There was something familiar about it, something that stirred his dark memories and stimulated his cougar’s protective instinct—to protect Haven, Jack, and little Devon. But why—?
He was suddenly back there. He could smell the cage they’d tossed him in, his sterile surroundings. He could feel the pain, the agony, and the rage. He saw his family clearly, butchered in front of him on lab tables.
Travis stopped short, each breath constricted by the closing of his throat, his body shaking as though he had the flu. Cold sweat broke out on his skin and he began to feel dizzy. His cougar snarled and switched his tail, wanting to pounce and maul. He swayed and staggered before slamming against the side of a building. Then he leaned against it while he fought to find his balance.
How can this be? How can this be happening? Is my past going to repeat itself? No, by God, it isn’t. I am not going to lose anyone else I love.
By Phoenix, was she here for him? Had they been searching for him this entire time? No, that didn’t make sense. But he didn’t believe in coincidence.
Oh fuck, Trixie. Travis yanked out his cell and ordered Siri to call Trixie. It rang a couple of times before she answered, sounding harried.
“Travis? Hon, it’s not a great time. Just got a feral cat brought in that looks like he went toe-to-toe with a lawnmower. Can I call you back?”
Her voice let him breath again. Okay. Okay, she was all right. “Y-yeah, you can call me back. No problem. Save the cat.”
“Love you.” She hung up.
Travis slipped the phone back in his pocket with a trembling hand. He was positive that woman was one of those, or like those, shifter-hating murder
ers. Her scent was cold and clinical, maybe not as cruel as the others’ had been, but there were many types of cruelty. Hers might be the type that looked the other way while the other cruel people got their hands dirty, pouring acid into a young shifter’s eyes.
Travis panted, his skin rippled, and his body heated. His cougar raged, and it took every ounce of strength he had to keep from shifting—from leaping after the woman and tearing her head off. He couldn’t do this alone. He didn’t know if she was alone or with others. He needed help. There was only one way to deal with this situation, to protect his home.
She had to die. And so did anyone else that came with her.
Travis shoved away from the building and took a moment to orient himself. Then he turned, listening for traffic, before heading across the street. He knew now he couldn’t keep his past secret from Jack anymore. Haven was in trouble and he needed Jack’s help. The pack’s help. They had to save their home.
Jack looked up as Travis, panting heavily, sweat gleaming on his pale and drawn face, burst through the front door of the sheriff’s office. “Jack, I need to talk to you. Now. Alone.”
Jena stared at Travis for a second, then to Jack’s surprise, she left without protest. Rae closed the door to dispatch. Bao was already on patrol, as were the two other part-time deputies currently on the clock.
“Travis, what happened?” Jack asked, gripping his friend’s shoulder and leading him to a chair. “Are you all right? Is someone hurt?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I think. Oh Phoenix.” Travis dropped his cane, ripped off his shades, and buried his face in his hands. He took several long, slow deep breaths. Jack was relieved Travis wasn’t crying. He was just trying to pull himself together.
“Take your time,” Jack said calmly. “I’m here. I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t wait for another second or two.” He hoped they had time.
Travis nodded slightly as Jack got him some water. Jack’s pounding heart slowed, and he took a second or two to steady himself. His initial fear, that Travis or someone else was hurt, faded, replaced by concern and perplexity. What could terrify Travis to this extent?
