“Higher,” Watson mumbled.
The mayor. That utter bastard! He was busting her off the force just because… her shoulders slumped. He was pensioning her off because she wasn’t Human anymore. Right or wrong, all officers of the law were Human. It had always been that way. She should have expected something like this. She should have seen it coming! Lord and Lady what was she going to do? Mark had left her; Mama hated her for letting Ryder turn her into an animal, and now this. Her work was all she had left, and they were going to take it away from her.
She turned to Mac desperately. “Is there anything the Guild can do?”
He shook his head. “If they had tried to cut you off, we would have busted their chops, but they didn’t try that. They’re offering a medical pension with full benefits. I hate to say it, Chris, but they’re being more than fair.”
“Of course it’s fair,” Watson said with a scowl. “Despite Guild propaganda to the contrary, we are not in the habit of screwing over our officers.”
Mac snorted. “You know damn well what you’re offering is the standard package for this kind of situation. We both know what kind of damage Chris could do to the Department if she ran crying to the media.”
“I wouldn’t do that!” she burst out. “I would never do anything to hurt the Department.”
Watson nodded approvingly. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I deeply regret what happened to you, but I’m sure you agree that the Department’s welfare is paramount. We’ve had six attacks on police officers this year—”
“Not here,” she said.
“No, but state-wide we’ve had six. None of those infected officers has been allowed to return. God knows how many civilian attacks have gone unreported.”
Chris swallowed a scream of despair. Her life was over. She had been on the inside long enough to know that non-humans never held positions in the Department. Never. She had never questioned it in all the years she had been on the force. She questioned now, but one person alone had no chance against the government. It was hopeless. She wasn’t Human, and she wasn’t a police officer either—not anymore. They were cutting her loose, taking everything that lent meaning to her life.
“So that’s it,” she said dully. “Twelve years in the Department and now nothing.”
Cappy nodded unhappily. “Yeah.”
Watson pushed a sheaf of papers across the desk toward her and dropped a pen on top. “I need your signature on this; it’s just to say that you agree to the terms of your separation from the Department. As soon as you sign, I can release your severance pay to your account.”
She glanced at Mac.
He nodded sympathetically and she signed the papers without bothering to read them. It didn’t matter now. Nothing did. She stood to leave, but there was one final indignity to go through.
“Your shield,” Watson reminded her.
She took her badge out of its wallet and stared at it. Rather than give it to Watson, she gave it to Cappy. “Look after this for me.”
Cappy nodded in silence.
Her stomach was rumbling in complaint when she left Central. She needed to eat, and she couldn’t wait. It felt like she was always eating now. A burger and fries to tide her over until she got home would have to do. There was a place just down the street; they always used the best meat, and that was what she needed. She walked that way concentrating on food and not on the fact that her life was over.
She stepped inside, trying not to notice people edging aside from her. At the counter, the delicious smells made her mouth water.
“I’ll have two quarter pounders with everything on ’em, and double fries. Oh, and a Coke to go with it.”
She pulled her Dad’s old wallet out of her coat pocket, but the girl behind the counter did not ask for the money. She had backed off and was speaking urgently with an older man. They were looking her way. She tensed as the man came toward her.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t serve your kind here.”
“What?” she asked, hardly believing what he had just said. “You what?”
“Sorry, ma’am. I recognise you from the news. You’re a shifter. There are laws—”
“You have to be kidding me,” she said in amazement.
“No, ma’am.” He watched in agitation as his customers hurried out the door. “You have to leave. The Food Safety Commission would close us down. We have a sign.” He pointed to it.
Sure enough, there was a sign pasted to the door. She had never noticed it before. Had that been there all these years? It looked old.
No dogs, cats, shifters, vamps, or ghouls allowed.
She laughed uncertainly. “This is a joke, right?”
“I’ll have to call the police if you don’t leave.”
“But I’ve eaten here for years.”
“That was before.”
“What would you do if I were a ghoul?”
“There are spells around the door to deal with that kind of thing. Now I must insist you leave.” He was becoming less polite.
This wasn’t happening. The staff behind the counter were whispering and smirking at her. The disgust on their faces was obvious. She felt dirty, unclean, as if their looks could somehow transform her into their sick imaginings. She reached for her badge…
Oh yes, I forgot. Cappy has it.
“But I’m hungry,” she whispered, still in shock. Without her badge she had no protection or privilege. She was a civilian and vulnerable.
“We don’t serve your kind here. There are places—less fussy places.”
She felt anger building. She had to get out before she did something this man wouldn’t live to regret. She turned and walked away clamping down on her temper. She had to think nice thoughts, happy thoughts. It was the only way to keep it down. Her vision blurred but she kept walking.
She had been walking aimlessly for quite some time, brooding over her situation with her stomach grumbling constantly, when she smelled food not far off. She smelled it clearly even over the stink of humanity that surrounded her—coated her. It was a hot dog stand.
“Two of your biggest with everything on ’em,” she said salivating. She had to eat now!
“I know you. You’re that shifter, ain’t you?”
“No I—”
“Yes, you are. I’ve seen you on the news.”
She looked around for an escape, but rather than making a fuss, the vendor began making her a pair of hot dogs. She stayed put and hoped. He was about fifty she would say, maybe a little more. He wore a dark coat with a scarf around his neck, muffling his mouth and chin. It wasn’t that cold, but maybe he was one of those who felt it more.
“Damn shame the shifters got you. What’re you going to do now?”
“I don’t know.” She couldn’t believe she was discussing this with a complete stranger, but it felt oddly reassuring too. Ken and Agent Barrows had been her only contact with people for weeks. “Reporters offered me money.”
“Yeah? You gonna take it?”
“Don’t know.”
He wagged a finger at her. “You make sure you get the money up front. Those people will use you up and throw you away, girl.” He passed her the hot dogs and she ate one in seconds. “Phew! You sure are hungry. Here, have another on the house.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got money.” She pulled out her wallet and paid him. “These are delicious.”
“Glad you like ’em.”
“I do. I went for a burger just now, but they wouldn’t serve me. Can you believe that? We’re in America not China!”
He frowned at her oddly.
“What?”
“Where you been, girl?”
She finished her second hot dog. “I’ll have another two.”
“Suuure,” he drawled, and started making them.
“What did you mean where have I been?”
“I meant you have to be blind not to see what’s right in front of you. Ever seen a dwarf walking the street?”
She frowne
d. “No, but what—”
“You won’t neither, too dangerous for ’em. Have you ever heard of one living nearby? Ever seen one run for mayor? Ever seen an elf in the city? Ever seen anything non-Human in authority of any kind whatsoever?”
“No, but what’s your point?”
He sighed. “My point is the only people treated with respect in America are humans. Hell, humans are the only people treated like people here.”
“But the dwarves live underground,” she protested. “They like it down there. Why would they come up here? And the elves have Underhill.”
He shook his head. “There’s none as blind as them who won’t see.”
She took the offered hot dogs and ate them while they were still hot. She held out her hand. “I’m Chris.”
He shook her hand and said, “Mathew.”
“Glad to know you, Mathew.”
“Likewise, Chris. Do me a favour and think about what I said, will you?”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, meaning the reporter’s offer for her story.
The next day she began looking through the Want Ads for work. The reporters outside were still there, still offering outrageous sums of money, but none were willing to pay up front. When she started talking lawyers and contracts, they suddenly lost interest in paying for an exclusive. Funny that. It was as Mathew said; they wanted her to put out for them without them paying. If she was going to whore her story, and she was still in two minds about that, she wanted the money in her account first.
She went through the papers circling a few likely job prospects with a pen, but when she contacted them, she met resistance every step of the way.
“What do you mean, am I Human,” she said in outrage.
“It’s a standard question we always ask,” the woman on the other end of the line said. “Our insurance doesn’t cover non-humans.”
“I’m...” she couldn’t say it, “I’m no longer interested.” She broke the connection and moved to the next circled item. Security specialist it said, but the salary was a lot less. “I worked for twelve years with the police.”
“Uniformed?”
“Detective.”
“Excellent! You sound ideal, Miss Humber. What’s your first name by the way? I can’t keep calling you Miss all the time.”
“Chris,” she said and the line went dead. She punched in the number again. “Hello? Sorry, we were cut off.”
“The position is open to humans only,” the man said stiffly.
The line went dead again.
She tried the next number; and the next, and the next. She came across the same thing every time. As soon as they learned she was a shifter, they became belligerent and accused her of wasting their time.
Finally, she tried the last number she had circled. It was a nightclub that she assumed needed security on the door. She could do it with her eyes closed, but didn’t want to. All she wanted to be was a detective, but that was closed to her.
She punched in the number and waited for an answer. It took quite a while.
“Yeah?” a irritated sounding man said.
She took a deep breath. “I’m interested in the job you have advertised.”
“Which one? We’ve got a couple of places need filling.”
“Security—”
“Nah, sorry. That one’s gone.”
“Wait!” she cried desperately. “What’s the other one?”
“Sorry, shifters only.”
She blinked in surprise and sudden hope. “Say that again?”
“I said shifters only. Are you deaf?”
“No, but I am a… I am a shifter.”
“Really? That’s great! What’s your furry side?”
“Why?” she asked warily.
“We have to get the costume sorted out.”
“What costume?”
“For your dance routi—”
She threw her link across the room in a fit of temper. There was no way in hell she would be a dancer in a club. She would rather die! She heard quiet laughter, and spun toward the window, but no one was watching her from there. She frowned at the closed door, and then looked around the room for the source of the sound. It was only then that she realised it was her passenger. It was snickering in the back of her head. The damned fur ball thought it was funny! Her face heated and she shredded the newspapers in frustrated rage.
“We need the freaking money! Let’s see how funny you think it is when we run out of meat! It doesn’t grow on trees! You won’t think its funny then will you, you rag-eared, flea bitten, pain in the arse!”
The laughter in her head grew louder and louder until she was screaming and covering her ears trying to shut it out. But it was all in her head. She couldn’t get away from it. She couldn’t get away from what she was!
She jumped to her feet and kicked the coffee table out of her path. The glass top shattered into a million shards. The vase that Mark’s mother bought them was the next casualty. It sailed through the air and smashed against the wall.
“Stop looking at me!” she screamed at the photographs on the mantel.
They were all laughing at her. Ken just looked disappointed, but Mark was grinning. He thought it was funny too! The bastard was laughing at her.
“Don’t you laugh at me, don’t you laugh!” She swept everything from the mantel onto the floor and stomped them where they lay.
The sudden pain in her belly doubled her over with a grunt.
She was panting in rage, but it suddenly turned to fear when she realised what was happening. Anger… she mustn’t be angry. Lawrence said it triggered the Change. She held a hand up before her disbelieving eyes and watched it twist and ripple into a clawed monstrosity. It wasn’t one thing or the other. She clutched her wrist with her still Human looking left hand, as if doing so could stop the spread of the change. Fur slithered and spread up her arm despite the grip she maintained. The pain in her hand made her want to howl. Her passenger already was—in excitement.
I’m coming.
“Screw you!” she screamed. “I’m not letting you out!”
She ran into the bedroom and ripped open a drawer in the nightstand. She snatched up the boomer with her left hand and raised it to her temple. The internal howling cut off as if with a knife, but she wasn’t fooled; it was watching her, waiting for her to relax. She could feel it. Everyone watched and whispered. She could hear them out there even now. Whisper, whisper, whisper… as if she couldn’t hear them talking about her behind her back. She knew what their game was, oh yes, she knew all right. They were waiting for her to crack up. They wanted her to. It would push up their ratings.
She chuckled and thumbed the hammer back. “Not laughing now are you, flea brain?”
Her passenger watched in silence, biding its time.
* * *
10 ~ A Cry For Help
Panting breath and burning lungs, pounding feet on pavement… the rank smell of fear on the air, and the taste of it in her mouth. Chris ran as if her life depended on it.
“It does, Lieutenant.”
She gasped. The voice was right behind her! She looked wildly back along the alley and found a pair of golden eyes glaring at her, seemingly hovering unsupported in the blackness. A wolf howled in the distance, and her heart thundered. She could barely hear her rasping breath over the blood pounding in her ears.
“Where is Flint?” Insane laughter battered her ears. “She and I go back a ways, did you know that? You should have brought her with you. Where is your backup, Lieutenant?”
She ducked around the corner into another alley, and dove headlong behind a Dumpster. Her panting breath was sure to give her away. She clamped a hand over her mouth and huddled in fear.
“Where is your backup, Lieutenant?” The words were like a sigh on the breeze. “Where is your backup, Lieutenant?”
She moaned in fear and huddled smaller. Hugging her knees to her chest, she tried to will herself to disappear. It was coming… it was very close, v
ery close. She could feel it. She shivered and her breath smoked; it hung around her head like mist. She peered around the Dumpster, but the alley was empty.
Click… click… click…
She froze; she knew that sound. It was the sound the claws of a dog made on pavement, but no dog made this sound. She whimpered when the creature stepped out of the darkness. It had the distorted head of a wolf and the torso of a man, and walked in an unnatural hunched forward stance. Its arms looked too long for its body, and it moved on legs unable to straighten fully. Lethal looking claws tipped long fingered hands… a horror out of a nightmare.
She reached for her stunner, but it wasn’t there. In panic, she reached for the Defender in the waistband of her jeans. She gasped in shock when she touched bare skin. She wasn’t wearing jeans; she wasn’t wearing anything! She was naked in a dark alley with a huge shifter bearing down on her. She was defenceless.
“There you are,” the thing growled as he rounded the Dumpster.
She looked up into its eyes like a frightened child. “Please don’t.”
“Where is your backup, Lieutenant?” Ryder snarled and seized her with crushing jaws.
“Noooo!” Chris screamed and leapt out of her bed to land in a crouch in the corner of her bedroom.
She gasped for breath and shook. A dream… it was just a bad dream. She was safe now; she… a stinging pain on the side of her neck distracted her. She turned to the mirror on the wardrobe door.
She was bleeding.
She turned her head to survey the damage properly. The blood was flowing freely from four long cuts on her neck, and there were slashes in her t-shirt where they continued below the neckline. The scent of blood was strong on the air as she pulled the shirt down. The cuts continued in a curving line over her collarbone. They stung like crazy, but they were shallow. The blood was mostly coming from her neck where the cuts started and were deeper. In her dream, Ryder had slashed her... she shook her head. She was awake now and the wound was real. She checked her hands and found the answer. There was blood and skin under her nails. She had acted out her dream and clawed herself.
“What the hell is going on with you, girl,” she said to her reflection.
Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2 Page 65
