by Amira Rain
She was even more surprised by the knowledge that she would do it all over again, had she the chance to choose.
Jonas helped Mary-Lou out of the car, not letting go of her arm even after Mary-Lou had straightened next to him on the sidewalk. Mary-Lou smiled up at Jonas, a soft upturn of her lips. She pushed up on her toes to kiss him, a brief touch meant to reassure and provide connection.
“Let’s go,” she said and did not comment when Jonas failed to let her go, instead linking a large arm securely around her waist. His closeness would not cause harm – those who disproved of their relationship were not worthy of Mary-Lou’s time in the first place.
Their steps were loud against gray linoleum, echoed heavily in the enclosed emptiness. Mary-Lou caught sight of Irma further down the hall, nodding as the older woman motioned for them to follow.
Around a corner and a hallway down, the doors of the school’s auditorium were thrown wide open. There were people crowded around the entrance – about twenty hooded figures. Mary-Lou threw a quick glance at Irma, wondering why they remained outside.
“No more space,” Irma mouthed. Mary-Lou refused to be intimidated; this was what she had wanted, what they all needed: A show of support. Strength in numbers. She followed Irma down another short hallway, to a side door that would place them in the back of the stage.
Jonathon waited for them inside. He took command of the situation quickly, ordering Sasha and Cara to monitor duty on the opposite end of the stage – just behind the heavy black curtains that framed the podium. He and Irma were to remain on the side by the door, and Jonas – well. Nothing could remove Jonas from Mary-Lou’s side.
“Katy and Jenna are on the floor,” Irma whispered, “ keeping an eye out for any troublemakers.”
“Is it time?” Mary-Lou asked. Irma rolled her eyes, face serious even as her lips twitched upward.
“You call the shots here, Mary-Lou. Don’t forget that.”
Mary-Lou nodded. A capable, confident leader did not wonder, did not hesitate. She would not forget again.
Mary-Lou climbed the stage, walked the foot and a half that placed her in the very center of over four hundred hungry eyes. Jonas remained a step behind her, a watchful shadow and silent support in one.
Not a whisper broke the heavy, expectant silence in the room.
Mary-Lou smiled, and began. “Thank you for coming. I know it was not an easy decision to make: There is a price on my head, and rumors about my purpose that would tempt most into ignoring my Call, or worse, trying to silence my voice.” Mary-Lou let her eyes cover the room, take in the guilty shifting and lowered heads that followed her words. “No matter. You are here, and that is what is important. More than my words, more than the prophecy that preceded my birth – your presence here speaks to turmoil, a dissonance with life as it is and how you wish to see it. Before you disregard me, before you deny my mission as but another thinly-veiled bid for power, ask yourself this: Why are you here? What do you wish to hear? Are you happy with the world that is around you?”
Mary-Lou paused to allow her words to sink in, to observe the reaction they were having with her audience. A low buzzing filled the auditorium; soft voices that brimmed with anger, with excitement carried over from all directions. Mary-Lou did not allow herself to smile even as hope fluttered madly in her chest. They were listening. They were allowing her in, hearing her words and judging them for themselves, by themselves. She parted her lips, and watched the room fall silent once again.
“This is why you are here. To talk – to discuss and hear discussed a subject that has been long taboo. Shifter supremacy. The Old Order. Ideas you have been instructed to believe fixed, immovable and unchanging. Lies.
You are here,” Mary-Lou continued, talking over several strangled gasps and a cry of outrage, “Because there is another possibility. An alternative form of life that you are discovering, seeing others discover: Freedom. Freedom to choose your leaders, your families, your spouse – freedom to live and be as you want to, not as your social rank dictates. This should is not a dream, is not a fantasy, but a very possible and viable option – as long as you know what freedom is, what equality means.
For some of you, the fall of the Old Order will come at a certain loss,” Mary-Lou said. She knew her words would not be welcomed, knew that this was not how one sold a campaign. Mary-Lou was not interested in selling, in political shams; Mary-Lou strove to bring clarity, to introduce choice. She would not undermine her purpose by utilizing dubious means. “Those of high status will see the advantages their rank gave them dwindle, fall to nothing. However, so would the rigid rules that restrained their actions: Your children, your families and friends will be safe from injustice made just under cruel laws. You will have the right to demand better treatment without the fear of losing favor, without needing the favor of others at all. You will—”
Mary-Lou’s speech was interrupted twice-over at once: Jonas grabbed her arms, pulled her back with an urgent shout of her name even as a scream tore high above the podium, in the crowded balconies that stretched halfway across the auditorium.
“FIRE!” someone shouted, “There is a fire!” Shocked cries tore through the room, shouts of outrage and fear echoing in the oval space over the sudden wail of the fire alarm. Mary-Lou raised her head, saw for herself as golden-red flames tore through the black curtains. Part of her felt numb, far-away from what was happening; a larger, more vicious part wanted to tear someone apart. There had been so many people up there, so many children crowded in their parents’ laps—
Mary-Lou hoped they were alright, willed it with every fiber of her being. Please, she thought, If I have powers, if I have anything at all, please let no one be hurt. Let them all make it out whole.
“We have to go!” Jonas rumbled in her ear, voice more animal than human. He did not give Mary-Lou time to protest, did not allow her a moment more to question after the safety of her pack. Within seconds a large lion stood in the place of the man, the beast easily three times Mary-Lou’s size. Intelligent blue eyes glared at Mary-Lou even as great teeth snagged the back of her suit, pulling with a single-minded focus. Hold on, Jonas rumbled in her mind; Mary-Lou would have faltered, would have demanded answers for this new development in their bond, had she been in the mind to do so. As it was, she was too distracted by the screams all around her, by the smoke and fire that spread too quickly across the room.
They were burning. They were screaming and dying and she could do nothing, nothing but scream and scream and scream-----
Mary-Lou climbed atop the Shifter’s back, buried her fingers in the wild mane and lowered her face so it pressed between Jonas’ powerful shoulders. The remnants of the dream lingered, mocked her with vivid visions of carnage and brutality. It had been in a school. The nightmare had taken place in a school just like this one—
Mary-Lou heard Jonas’ roar as if from a great distance. She barely felt him move, barely felt glass shatter and rain over her bowed figure as the lion bounded through one of the auditorium’s large windows. Still, she held on – knew she had to hold on, knew she had no other choice. This was her mission, and those were her people.
Mary-Lou would hold on, would carry on, as long as she drew a breath.
The fire had spread quickly – much too quickly for an ordinary mishap. By the time red fire trucks careened down the street, most of the auditorium had burned down. The structural damage was enormous; Mary-Lou felt a spike of guilt, knowing she had been the cause behind the incident. She did not allow herself to wallow in self-pity too much, however: All that mattered was that no one had been hurt. For that, she was thankful. As for the arsonists…
Mary-Lou knew the day would come when she would meet all who hunted her, that she would get the chance to take them down as they deserved. Until then, she had no time to waste on cowards who chose to lurk in the shadows rather than face a human woman.
“What the fuck is he doing here,” Sasha muttered. Mary-Lou raised her eyes from where s
he had been glaring despondently at the grass beneath her bench, craning her neck so she could see around Jonas’ bulky form.
After assuring themselves that no one was injured, Mary-Lou and her pack had relocated to the small park facing the school. Most other Shifters had left the premises, spooked both by the fire and the 911-respondents that swarmed the scene. Mary-Lou remembered Jonas’ own insistence against involving government forces in Shifter affairs and wondered how, exactly, she was to bridge that gap of trust between humans and Shifters.
The police were not, however, the current focus of attention. Mary-Lou followed Sasha’s glare to a tall, broad-shouldered man who seemed to be making his way toward them. He was dressed in a heavy, well-tailored white suit that soot and ash had completely destroyed, vibrant red hair singed black around the edges. The man was smiling, Mary-Lou noted; a thin, wan thing that did not quite reach his sharp brown eyes.
“Who is he?” Mary-Lou asked the Shifters around her. Tension was thick among her pack, bled through the bond to push Mary-Lou to the edge. The lack of knowledge was not helping any.
“He is many things,” Irma told her quietly, “Both good and bad. All you need to know is that this man can be very dangerous, if he so wishes.”
Mary-Lou gave a small nod, knowing better than to question something as rare as a caution from her mother.
The man reached them before more words could be exchanged. He stopped a polite distance from the group, expression still one of remote amusement. Jonas rumbled in greeting, not even bothering to pretend he was not eyeing the man’s jugular with unbecoming interest. A glance at Sasha and Cara revealed they were no better; while Irma and Jonathon were noticeably calmer, they too did not seem eager to offer any greetings.
Mary-Lou stifled a sigh and rose to her feet.
“Good evening,” she told the man, green eyes fastening on his with unforgiving intensity. Dangerous or not, Mary-Lou would not lower her gaze for anyone.
The man’s lips twitched. He held Mary-Lou’s gaze and, after a rather long moment of silence, bowed elegantly at the waist.
“Good evening to you, and your family, Mary-Lou.” The man straightened body relaxing ever-so-slightly as he added, “I have longed to speak with you for a long time now.”
“Well, you found me,” Mary-Lou replied distractedly, mind busy evaluating the situation and the man’s behavior. The Shifter had chosen to approach Mary-Lou while she was with her pack, and alone at that –something she knew was not done too often, even among friendly Shifter tribes.
Mary-Lou was not naïve enough to believe the man had done so out of politeness – at least, not fully. He was either powerful enough not to care about the number of his opponents, or believed that Mary-Lou and her pack did not pose a threat. Possibly both.
Either way, he was not to be underestimated.
“So I did.” The man smiled, fully this time – revealed a row of neat, pearl-white teeth. “My name is Joel,” he offered, “And I am here to propose an alliance.”
“Yeah, right,” Cara grumbled; Joel did not spare her a look, even as his smile grew sharper.
Sasha bristled at Cara’s side, Jonas rumbling his own disagreement. Still, no one moved to chase the man away. That had to count for something.
“I am listening,” Mary-Lou said. She kept her eyes on Joel, on his eyes and the emotions therein.
The lack thereof.
“I heard you speak today,” Joel began, only to cut himself off with an amused smirk and a wave toward his ruined clothes, “As you can see.” Mary-Lou blinked, not reacting in any way. She was not interested in small-talk. Joel let out a mournful sigh, but continued.
“Although the night deteriorated, I heard what I needed to hear – enough to make up my mind and raise my voice in support of you and your mission.” Joel smiled pleasantly. A quick glance around revealed the source of his amusement: Mary-Lou’s entire pack was staring at the man, slack-jawed.
Alright. So this was a surprise, apparently. Mary-Lou shook her head, wishing that someone had explained the situation before the man had arrived.
“Thank you,” she offered in the end. “I do appreciate it.”
“You should,” Joel’s smile was bright enough to blind, amusement clear in his handsome features. “It is not every day that a human receives the blessing of a Shifter Prince.”
Mary-Lou blinked, knowing her own mouth had just fallen open.
Well. That was something indeed.
CHAPTER THREE
Mary-Lou stared down at her filet mignon, a bit uncertain at how it had gotten there. It, thankfully, did not stare back; a small wonder with the day she was having. Mary-Lou lifted her eyes, sweeping a narrowed green gaze about a restaurant that was too ornate and much too empty for her tastes. for the umpteenth time.
“How are you finding the food?” Joel smiled at her from across a long, gilded table, teeth glinting with the light of about a dozen tall candles.
Mary-Lou considered the tiny lump of delicate meat before her for all of a second before resolutely pushing the engraved plate away.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” Mary-Lou said. Jonas straightened beside her, his own food untouched. A quick glance around the table revealed the rest of her pack was similarly disinterested in dinner niceties: Katy and Jenna were fiddling with their phones beneath the table, while Sasha and Cara made sure to keep the four bodyguards flanking the table in sight at all times. Even if that meant turning their backs to His Highness.
Mary-Lou’s train of thought snagged at the title. So far, she had dealt with Joel’s royal status by ignoring it – not out of intimidation, no, but for the incredulity of it all. Mary-Lou simply could not wrap her mind around the fact that she was speaking with a Shifter Prince, had no way of understanding what doing so meant. Thus, she had found it best to disregard Joel’s noble identity and focus on the man himself.
Being treated to a seven-course meal in a restaurant that looked more like an opera hall and appeared to be open for them only was not of much help in that department.
Joel had been very pleased with Mary-Lou’s decision to accept his support – so pleased, in fact, that he had proposed they have dinner that very night to celebrate their alliance. Mary-Lou had agreed, foolishly believing that dinner would involve an actual discussion of business.
So far, it had only involved various arrangements of lettuce and beans and a great deal of wine. Joel might be a Shifter, but she was pretty sure a bottle and a half of Merlot in under an hour would go to anyone’s head.
All in all, Mary-Lou was having her doubts about this so-called “alliance” before it had even begun.
“Nonsense,” Joel scoffed, disregarding Mary-Lou’s words with a casual wave of a long-fingered hand. “Tonight is to be enjoyed! Besides, I do not do business outside of my office, and especially not when I am covered in soot and ash.” Joel winked in Mary-Lou’s general direction, then raised his once-again empty cup. A waiter appeared at his elbow immediately, almost tripping over his coattails in his haste to refill the Prince’s glass. Joel did not so much as glance at the man.
Mary-Lou was really, really not liking this.
“In that case, we thank you for a rare evening of peace.”
Mary-Lou cut her gaze at Irma, biting back decidedly more cutting words. Irma was smiling, but her eyes were cold and focused; Mary-Lou took her mother’s forced politeness as the warning that it was and subsided in her chair.
“So, Joel,” Mary-Lou said, just barely catching a sigh of exasperation, “Tell me what it is like to be a Prince among supernatural beings.”
Joel laughed and launched into a story with as many turns as the number of glasses of alcohol he had consumed.
Later, in the safety of Sasha’s no longer shiny car and far away from the remote restaurant to which Joel had led them, Mary-Lou finally allowed herself to ask the question that had been plaguing her since meeting the man:
“Who the hell is that guy, and what is his dea
l?”
Jonas glanced at the front seat. Irma remained silent, eyes on the darkness that surrounded the speeding car even as her thoughts wandered far away. The Tigress obviously had something to say on the subject – there was no other reason for her to travel with them instead of Jonathon in their car – but the time had not yet come. Jonas turned his attention back to Mary-Lou.
“Joel Harrington,” he began, “is the heir of the last surviving royal Shifter family in North America. He made quite the headlines in his youth: A spoiled rich boy, always in some scandal or another. A heartless playboy. A lousy drunk.” Jonas smiled grimly, “The death of a great line.”
