by A. E. Lowan
“What did you say to me, bachelor? I’m the harem master of Seahaven.”
At that the other two harem masters, Gordon and Spencer, shared a look. Basil’s dairy may have been the most successful business of the harem masters, and he may have had the most does, but Gordon and Spencer were brothers who shared. Together they could challenge him for power.
Today simply was not that day.
Instead the challenge came from another source. “For now,” growled the teenage buck standing behind Brooks’ chair. Jessie knew him in passing. Kelsey or something.
Basil glared at the boy. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You look like a future grease stain.”
In the seat beside Brooks, Logan of the orca looked up at the commotion and motioned to Octavia and Cole, his daughter and son. The three Native American therian moved further down the long table, away from the developing cervid fight.
Brooks grimaced at their departure, but scowled at the other deer. “Fuck off, Basil. Kelsey is your own son. Leave him alone. He’s with me.”
“And you aren’t shit to me. Neither of you should be here.”
“We were invited.”
“By someone who doesn’t know a buck from a doe.”
Brooks stood, teeth bared. “Take the fucking chair. This is supposed to be about saving the city.”
Basil did not give an inch, his voice dripping with contempt. “Then you should let the men do that. Don’t you have little boys to mind?”
Brooks’ hand tightened into a fist.
Jessie met the gaze of a tall, gangly boy on the other side of Basil and saw her tension mirrored in his dark brown eyes. She didn’t know his name, just that he was here with his father, some moose stag down from Mount Sarah. She saw him struggling to cover his fear and knew he would fight if pushed.
They would all fight if pushed.
Brooks turned with a soft curse and walked away, young Kelsey behind him guarding his back.
Jessie blew out a breath of relief and sat down at the table with her shopping bags from The Painted Warrior, two syringes with needles, and a full jar of blue banishing potion. As the therian leaders made their way into the Mulcahy dining room she got to work, sucking paint from each colorful sphere and replacing it with charged potion.
She grinned to herself. This was really going to work! No more little bottles. All Winter had to do was point and shoot and poof! Bye-bye baddies.
“You seem pleased with yourself.”
Jessie looked up to see Corinne standing beside her. “Hey!” she cried out with delight, drawing stares. She jumped up and hugged the pregnant Lion Queen, earning a kick in the hip from tiny Bella. She grinned down at her friend’s belly, accentuated rather than hidden by her chic silk business suit. “Hey, little soccer player. Anyone tell you kicking isn’t nice?”
Corinne rolled her eyes and smiled. “Welcome to my life.” The red-headed Lion Queen looked gorgeous, as always, and reminded Jessie of a nineteen-forties movie star.
Santiago slipped his arm around his Queen’s waist. “Soon, mi corazón." Jessie swallowed a girly sigh. Santiago had a voice to roll around in. And the way he looked at Corinne was magical.
From behind them came the sounds of gagging, followed by a laugh designed to turn heads, which it did. Vivaine, the Wolf Queen, was only three years older than Jessie, but she ruled the group in the city second in size only to the rabbits – and they might have been the biggest. Vivaine and her King, Darian, kept many secrets, the true size of their pack one of them. She stood there in her gladiator heels and leather skirt, with the kind of dusky beauty that only came with a global pedigree, smirking just like the mean girls at Jessie’s school.
Darian stood with his arm across his young Queen’s shoulders and just let her do her thing, as usual, steel blue eyes dancing with amusement.
Instead of rolling her eyes Jessie schooled her face like Winter had taught her. “It’s a pleasure to see you both. Can I show you to your seats?”
Vivaine cast a languid look at the table. “I think we can seat ourselves.” Mischief played at her painted lips and she led Darian towards the head of the table.
Corinne and Santiago went to find their seats on the opposite side of the table near the dolphins and the selkies, leaving Jessie alone for a breather. Parvati, the solitary alpha tigress and custom leather clothing designer, was flirting with the sea otters’ eldest son while the two of them chatted with the river otters.
The ravens arrived, and Jessie saw that their leader, Gaubert, was another to come with offspring in tow. For him it was his twelve-year-old daughter Colette. Jessie smiled and approached. Gaubert always reminded her of a pleasantly Goth-looking David Bowie. “Can I help you find seats?”
Gaubert inclined his head towards her. “Thank you, but I’ll let Colette choose, if I may.”
Colette smiled at her father and then surveyed the table with serious black eyes. “Erik sits at the head. Vivaine and Corinne are sitting close and eyeing each other, but the Shark King has not yet arrived to tip the balance… The bucks are bickering already. Joel and Amara of the coyotes are up and coming, though, and they chose to sit in the middle.” She turned to her father. “I would sit on the opposite side of the coyotes.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s close enough to power to contribute to the conversation, but on the door side of the room in case violence breaks out.” Ravens, like rabbits, were not physically strong and shied away from direct confrontations.
Gaubert patted her hair. “Well reasoned, my cautious girl. Then we sit in the middle.” He gave Jessie another little nod and moved to sit.
Three men in crisp suits arrived and three… less-than-crisp individuals entered with them. It had started to rain and droplets glittered like diamonds on their coats under the bright chandelier lights.
John Donovan was a tall, elegant Black man, the controlling partner at the law firm of Donovan and Associates. He also happened to be a great white shark and the Shark King of Seahaven. He smiled at Jessie, a flash of white against mahogany, and said, “Please accept our apologies for being late.”
The pretty brunette woman at his side with kind, tired eyes nodded. “Our car broke down. Donovan was kind enough to stop for us.” Rachel was the Matron of the rabbits and being in charge of over three hundred bunnies took its toll.
Jessie’s brows rose with concern. “The station wagon? Are you guys okay?” The old car was the only hutch vehicle not up on blocks for various reasons. If it died the rabbits would be limited to public transportation, limited to what they could carry, food-wise. That wasn’t a lot of calories for the physical effort, especially for people who needed thousands of calories a day just to live.
Donovan gave a graceful nod and excused himself to go sit down, his two sharks following him. Jessie was grateful. With the car thing she was hoping to talk to Rachel and her two Matron’s Assistants and it would be better if it was done in a semblance of privacy. Maybe Winter could give them a car, like she’d given her for her birthday? But a thought gave her pause. Would that look too much like favoritism if it came from the Mulcahy garage, politically? Something used, not, like, new or anything. Jessie didn’t know.
“We’re fine,” said Miles, Rachel’s Matron’s Assistant and hutch jack. “We’re going to get it towed in the morning or something, and I’ll work on it at the hutch.” The vast majority of rabbits were female and called bunnies or does, but usually bunnies. The few males fell into two categories: breeding jacks, which were highly territorial and could not live near each other, and hutch jacks, who did live in the hutches because while they could be aggressive they weren’t ruled by their hormones.
Miles shifted his shoulders, subtly adjusting his binder. “I think it’s the alternator ag-”
“It’s all great for you half-form furbies, but what about the rest of us?” Cole’s voice had risen to fill the room, cutting Jessie off. The orca stood leaning over the table, his long, glossy braids swin
ging. “If we shift on land, all we’ll do is suffocate under our own weight.”
Emmett of the dolphins glared and tossed his long black hair back, his copper cheeks flushed with anger. “It’s called a Smith & Wesson, asshole. We fight in human form.”
Octavia played with the large, elaborately beaded clasp of her long, black braid. She always did the most beautiful beadwork and this piece was no exception. The stylized blue orca on a white background set off her copper skin. “Either way, we’re putting our lives at risk.”
“We’re all going to die if we sit and do nothing.” Jessie crossed back to the table and put the lid on her potion jar before Cole’s table pounding knocked it over.
Beside her Vivaine stretched, showing herself to advantage, Darian’s arm still draped across her shoulders. “What’s the point? I say let this Midir turn it all into Faerie. It’s all the same. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.”
Jessie stared, incredulous. “Are you crazy? Tens of thousands of people will die.”
Vivaine quirked an eyebrow. “Humans. Humans will die.”
Jessie snorted. “How do you get that? Are you explosion proof, now? Because he’s going to blow up everything from here to fucking Seattle.”
Vivaine’s smile wasn’t pleasant. “He has to have some plan for his own tower not being blown up. Maybe I take my wolves there? Meet the new boss myself. We all know Winter Mulcahy can’t hold this city together. It’s been every wolf for herself for years, now. Why should I waste my time with the losers when my wolves could be on the winning team?”
Jessie’s hands clenched into fists and she felt power pooling there. “You’re out of your fucking mind. Winter can hold it, if we help her! We just have to get along.” This drew more than one derisive look from around the table.
Vivaine laughed. “Grow the fuck up, you cheap special effect. Your wizard has an expiration date and everyone knows it. Maybe it’s finally here.”
Jessie’s hands ignited. “I’ll show you fucking special effects!”
Vivaine’s hand elongated in response to Jessie’s challenge, her painted nails disappearing into scythe-like claws. “Let’s see how tough you are without your magic, butterball!” And she lunged forward, slashing at Jessie before Erik could get out of his chair.
Jessie squealed with fright just as a blur of movement caught her eye. There was a pain sound and tearing fabric, and Jason stood between her and the enraged Wolf Queen as the claw marks on his back began to bleed.
Vivaine was up out of her seat. “Step out of the way, pretty boy. I don’t like to cut up the yummy ones.”
Jason’s green eyes glittered as he tilted his head just so. “You and I are gonna dance, you crazy bitch.”
Corinne broke free from Santiago’s restraining arms and leapt over the table, her suit shredding away as she shifted into a lioness the size of a horse. She barreled into Vivaine, roaring and slashing with teeth and claws. The two Queens tumbled away from the table.
Jason watched them roll away like a cartoon dustup. “Looks like your dance card is full.”
Darian moved to follow them, reaching to pull Corinne off Vivaine.
Santiago shoved him away. “Touch my Queen and you won’t have a territory to go home to.”
Darian narrowed his steel blue eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Santiago’s lips twisted into a grin and his hands began to shift. “Take out the trash. It’s time for some city beautification.”
Darian sneered. “You don’t have the balls or the men to take on my wolves.”
“I do if they don’t have a King.” And it was on.
Juan, Santiago’s second, leapt over the table. “¡Mierda! Here we go.”
Erik jumped up to help Juan, knocking his chair over in his rush to break up the two Kings, and was knocked over in turn by two deer in half-form as Basil and Brooks finally turned their fight physical.
Jessie turned back to watch the Queens fight, looking for an opening to jump in… and squeaked as Jason picked her up, squishing her plump waist a bit as he did so. Blood coated his arms, smearing all over her clothes. “Put me down!”
“No way in hell,” he said as he carried her away from the fights. “Winter would never forgive me if you got killed or changed. Being therian would destroy your magic and you know it, and Vivaine’s gonna aim towards making you furry.”
“I’m gonna kill her! I’m not a child.” Jessie tried kicking her legs in the air, but against the vampire’s strength all it did was make her look stupid.
“Then act like it. I’m not going to argue with you, Jessie.” He bumped against the edge of the china cabinet and turned to look up. “Parvati?”
Jessie could see the Indian tiger and the sea otters’ son… was his name Journey? She blinked. Were they making out up there?
Parvati smiled down at them, her lips swollen from kissing, her long black hair hanging in a shining rope like Rapunzel’s braid. “Hello, Jason. Lovely meeting we’re having.”
Something shattered against the wall behind them. Jessie felt glass pepper her hair.
Jason looked exasperated. “Are you gonna help?”
Parvati surveyed the expanding anarchy. “Everyone seems to be doing about normal. No one seems to need my help. Except Journey here, who is small and fragile and needs a nice tiger to make it all okay.”
Journey didn’t seem so sure of that sentiment, but as her hand was currently in his pants…
Jason sighed. “For fuck’s sake. At least take Jessie up there with you.”
Parvati’s grin was toothy and wicked. “Gladly.”
Jessie shook her head. “Oh hell no. You’re not leaving me here with these two.”
Jason handed her up to Parvati, who used both hands to pull the young wizard up beside her. “If she gets loose I’m getting a stripy new rug.”
Parvati purred. “I do like a man who plays with knives.”
Jason returned her grin with a fierce one of his own and left Jessie with the alpha tigress.
Jessie knew jumping down from the china cabinet would only end in being chased around the room, which would be rather embarrassing in front of the entire therian leadership of the city. So instead she was forced to watch the chaos. Jason didn’t get far before he went down, dropped near the head of the table by one of the cowering rabbits who had apparently not seen who it was. Rabbits weren’t preternaturally strong like most other therian, but they had a defensive kick that could put an attacker through a wall. Jessie heard Jason cry out and then the three rabbits pulled him under the table to shelter with them, apologizing profusely.
The ravens were making their careful way out of the room, guns drawn, Colette hidden behind a wall of adults.
The orca and the dolphins were going flat out, now, on the other side of the table. Jessie let out a low whistle as Octavia knocked Emmett flat with a wicked left hook and thanked whoever was listening that neither therian species had fang or claw on land, like a wolf or a lion. Otherwise that fight would have gotten truly bloody.
Donovan looked like he was fighting the urge to get involved in the melee, which wasn’t surprising. Sharks were renowned for their love of violence in the water. But this was on land and he was wading into the King fight, looking for all the world like he was trying to help Juan.
Juan wasn’t having it. He roared at Donovan. “Get your cold fish ass away from my King!”
Donovan stepped back a single pace and shook his head. “I’m trying to help!”
“Try to help elsewhere, shark.”
“What’s wrong with you? This isn’t the time.”
Juan drew his gun and pointed it at Donovan’s head and said in measured syllables, “Get the fuck away from my King.”
Donovan glanced up at Jessie on the china cabinet, gestured to his sharks to stay back, and backed away. “Fine. I’ll leave you to it, lion.”
Erik was in the middle of the fight between the two stags, doling out beatings to both of them in e
qual measure. Jessie couldn’t tell if he was genuinely pissed or having fun. Or both. Knowing the Viking it was both. Until Basil gored his shoulder. Then fun time was over. Erik roared in pain and jerked the antler from his shoulder, breaking the entire thing off near the base with a vicious twist that nearly broke the harem master’s neck. Brooks had the good sense to back off, but Basil attacked again and Erik grabbed him by his hide, throwing him through the large, stained-glass window.
Winter entered the room, one hand over her mouth, blue eyes wide in astonishment. At her side was a tall, slender man in elaborate matte black armor, his long, curly hair falling about his shoulders and a black circlet on his brow. Was this the faerie king Winter had gone after? He looked… vaguely familiar. Weird.
A vase flew at Winter and his hand snapped out, catching it before it could hit her. Okay, that was hot. The king set the vase down on the small table beside the door and looked at Winter as if she’d brought him to an asylum, which Jessie had to admit was fair. He held out his hand and shouted, “Stop!” with the same sing-songy accent Etienne and Cian had. The faerie house responded. Vines shot out of the floor, wrapping around everyone fighting and pulling them apart, holding them steady. “What is going on here?”
Everyone started talking all at once, with varying degrees of outrage at being handled by a magical stranger.
The faerie king swept his hand out, silencing the combatants. He turned to Winter. “I believe these are your people. Pick one.”
Winter, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, looked around and her eyes started to settle on Erik… until she caught sight of Jessie on the china cabinet, complete with Jason’s blood all over her shirt. “Jessie!” she cried out with alarm and ran to the base of the cabinet.
“All right.” The faerie king seemed to misunderstand. Vines grew up from the floor and wrapped around Jessie, gently lifting her down from the cabinet and setting her on the ground at his feet. “What is going on here, child?” he asked as he lifted the spell from her.
By the broken window Erik floundered in the silencing spell rather like a landed marlin.
