Harley tilts his head at me. “I guess I never really asked you before, what you did for a living.”
I smile, though underneath, I'm nervous about having to come out to him about being a shifter.
“We’ll get to that,” I say. “But yeah, Lars and me. Ever since we helped the elderly couple feel safe in their own home again, we were inseparable. We tried to do all our missions together, and eventually, once we realized that this was what we wanted to do with our lives, we applied for leadership positions. It was only then that we got the chance to think about a romantic relationship. We’d been hooking up for a while, but we never had the chance—or desire, really—to pursue something romantic. We were too focused on the action. But life is been a little more chill since then, though with the increased gang activity in the Paisley, we had to participate in more missions.”
“I see,” says Harley. “So you’re kind of like the cops? I thought there were already cops here.”
I shrug. “No, we're not quite cops. But we do serve a similar function. We basically helped bring bad guys to justice, and we have a lot of abilities that the cops don't. So we deal with slightly different situations.”
I know I'm being a little cagey, and I can tell that Harley is intrigued, wanting to know more. But I have to handle this delicately. I might be telling him about the pack sooner than I predicted.
“That's pretty cool,” says Harley. “But is a very dangerous job? Don't you worry for each other?”
“Of course we do,” I say. “But we are actually out of the danger zone, for the most part. Now that we’re leaders, we’re not on the front lines. But that doesn't mean we don't take risks—what kind of leaders would we be if we weren't fighting alongside our pack members?”
“You keep saying pack,” says Harley. “Like a wolf pack?” He chuckles.
My heart starts to beat a little faster, and the words in my mouth seem to evaporate into thin air.
“Yeah,” I start, “Harley, I need to tell you something. No, it's nothing bad,” I say, when I see the worried expression across his face. He relaxes slightly, but he’s still apprehensive.
“Okay…” He leans back in his chair.
“So… I don't know what you know about Stell,” I say, “but you might've heard some rumors about it?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah. I've heard all kinds of rumors about the big city.”
“Well, some of them are true,” I continue. “Like, have you heard about the wolves?”
“The wolves? Don't they come out in the middle of the night and eat people?”
Now it's my turn to look confused. I have no idea where he would've ever gotten that idea. “No, of course not. Wolves are like dogs. They aren't monsters that skulk in the night and murder people.”
“I heard the ones here do,” Harley continues earnestly.
“Well, we don't. Or they don't, rather. I mean, my point is, we are the wolves.”
Harley just looks at me skeptically.
“Like werewolves,” I say. “Lars, I, and the rest of our pack, we're shifters. And we’re not the only shifters in the city, either. There aren't just wolf shifters.”
“So… There are werewolves, but they're not monsters who eat people. Got it.” Harley nods slightly.
Inside, I'm thinking that he thinks I lost it. He seems to be processing the information, turning it over.
“Look, I don't want to scare you,” I say. “We're just normal people, and I'm sure you've been able to see that now, getting to know me and Lars. But we have another whole aspect of our life that we don't want to keep hidden from you.”
“Thanks for the trust,” says Harley. “So… What other kind of shifters are there? Do other… humans know about them? Will I be able to tell if someone is a shifter?”
I laugh. Harley is taking to this remarkably well, but I guess the fact that we helped him out so much laid the groundwork for a good first impression. “There are shifters of all kinds of animals, I don't know how many. Bear shifters, fox shifters, coyotes, crows, eagles… All kinds. Most humans know about them, some don't. We try not to draw attention to ourselves. But Stell is one of the few places where able to live somewhat openly. As for the last question. You can learn to tell, but you won't have that innate sense that we do where we would know for sure.”
“How do I tell?” asks Harley.
“It's not something that can be clearly explained,” I say. “You might pick it up from strange little clues like them having lots of fur on their clothes…”
“Like Morty,” says Harley.
“Yes,” I say. “He's a shifter.”
“Do you guys have some kind of beef with his family or something?”
I sigh. I didn't really want to get into this on the date, but it would be easier to explain everything.
“We think that they might be connected to some suspects in another case,” I say. I'm well aware that I need to be judicious with what I say because I don't want to put Harley in danger.
“It makes sense why you’re worried,” says Harley. “But these two, they’re good people. They've taken such good care of me, and for no reason.”
“Well, I'm just suspicious. Exercise caution, is all I'm saying.”
Harley gives a short laugh. “Funny, that's the exact same thing they said to me. They told me that you and your kind don't like them. That you guys seem like do-gooders but you actually don't care about the people in the Paisley. I told him that I didn't think it was true.”
I shrug. “There's always gonna be people who don't get it, and I don't necessarily blame them. We just have to keep doing what we're doing and show them that we do care.”
“Well,” says Harley, “maybe I can help you out with this investigation.”
My wolf immediately growls inside me. “I can't let you do that. You're a new omega dad and you've got a newborn to care for.”
Harley deflates a little. “I know you're right,” he says. “But in any case, I'll keep my eyes peeled.”
There's a bit of silence as we both take a bite of our meals, which had been forgotten in the intense discussion about me being a shifter.
Soon enough we finish eating and we’re on our last drink, when the waiter brings the check. I grab it before Harley can, as there's no way he'll be able to pay it on his salary. This is my way of treating him, because he deserves it.
Harley’s looking at the map of the train system on his phone.
“Why are you looking at that?” I ask. “I’m gonna give you a ride home.”
“I have to pick up Hunter from Marie's house,” Harley says. He looks away a little bashfully.
I need to maintain his trust. I can't push him away, further into the arms of the gang.
“You could use the daycare facilities,” I say. “They’re there just for occasions like yours.”
Harley sighs.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll take you there.”
“There's no way they'll agree,” says Harley. “Since they don't trust you.”
I don't like this, but I don't see what else I can do. “At least let me drop you off near their house,” I say. “I don't want you out late alone. Especially with the baby.”
Harley smiles. “I think I'll be okay.”
I have to trust that he does, and eventually, we part ways, even though I’m reluctant to.
My phone pings, interrupting my thoughts during the drive. It’s Lars. The ping is followed by my ring—he’s calling.
“We need to talk, Carson,” says Lars. “It’s Harley’s ex. He’s here.”
10
Lars
I can't believe we have yet another problem to deal with. And it's one I never thought would become a problem.
Harley's ex husband. Hunter’s father.
It took me a while to figure out who he was at first. When we saw him meeting with some Blacktail folks we weren't sure what his role was at all. But we put a tail on him, and learned that he only came to the city in the past few d
ays, all the way from the backlands.
Some further digging into his identity revealed that he came from Spruce Springs, the same town Harley did.
Spruce Springs only has a couple thousand people. The odds of two of them showing up in the same city in the same time period were too low. Sure enough, my research eventually revealed that this was indeed Harley’s ex.
And given what we knew, Harley’s ex is a dangerous guy, not above using violence to get what he wants. The thought of him harming his pregnant husband at all is shocking.
I texted Carson as soon as I found out, unsure of whether or not he would tell Harley. It would probably be better for the omega to know, but I can't imagine it's easy to deal with the stress. Just when he thought he got away from his abuser, the abuser shows up again.
And on top of that, Morris has entangled himself in our investigation with the gang. Why he has business with them, I don't know. But it can't be good.
I'm on my way to Harley's apartment. When I get there, I send the car away and go up the elevator to Harley's apartment, knocking on the door. Carson knows it's me, and he answers.
“I already told him,” says Carson.
I look to the couch, where Harley is wrapped up in a blanket, shaking. Carson immediately squeezes him in closer.
“Listen, Harley,” I say. “We’re not gonna let that asshole come anywhere near you. I cannot let him harm you or the baby.”
Carson gives me a look, and I know what he wants to say. We just don't know how to say it.
“And, Harley, you know your friends at the shop are also affiliated with the gang, right? Just like Morris?”
I hadn't wanted to say his name, and seeing Harley's reaction makes me feel guilty.
“They've been good to me,” says Harley, shaking his head. “And anyway, if I suddenly stop hanging out with them and they are affiliated with the gang, it would look bad.”
“That's true,” agrees Carson.
I'm sure neither of us likes the idea of letting Harley fend for himself, without either of us to protect him, but he's right. The only thing to do is let him continue his job and his life as usual, and work overtime to get this Blacktails issue resolved.
“We can have one of the pack members patrol you,” I say. “Not when you go to work, but maybe at night. Just have someone checking on you. Would you like that?”
Harley nods emphatically.
“Okay, I'll get that sorted for you,” I say.
“I just can't believe it,” Harley says after a moment of silence. “Marie and Morty have been so great to me, I can't believe that they're involved with anything bad. Much less my ex. I mean, I told Marie all about him and what he did to me. Morty knows too. So there's no way they would give me up.”
I hope so, I want to say but that wouldn't be nice. Harley knows that we’re cautious, but being paternalistic won't help anyone.
There's a pregnant silence.
“I guess I better be heading out now,” I say, feeling a little bit like a third wheel. I don't like the feeling, but I do like seeing Carson being all protective over the omega.
Maybe this is the right thing to do. Maybe this is the right path for all three of us. I can see it. Maybe if I get over my jealousy, just a little bit…
I think I can actually see this working.
But now isn't the time. Not when I have to focus on more important things. I say goodbye to my mate and his omega boyfriend, and head back to the pack headquarters.
There's work to do.
I couldn't have come back to headquarters at a better time. Things are moving fast with our work on the gang, and it seems that there's a mission happening—now.
When I get to the second floor, the siren in the main office is blaring. Guys are getting into their shiftsuits, packing their bags with weapons and anything else they might need.
“What the hell is going on,” I ask Chaz.
“We’re taking down Ramsey Hobart,” he says.
I blink at him stupidly, for a moment, before I regain my senses and head to my own locker.
Ramsey Hobart is one of the kingpins of the Blacktails, particularly in the Paisley neighborhood. The gang is spread out throughout the city, but the Paisley is their base. If we can take out Ramsey Hobart… Maybe we can take out some of the other guys.
This could be big. This is one of the steps on the way to us fully defeating them. When they’re finally vanquished, we can focus on helping the people of the Paisley rebuild their lives.
This could change the course of the city. This gang has been so pervasive and so awful, that entire neighborhoods like the Paisley have been stifled.
All these thoughts run through my mind as I zip up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, and follow everyone else out the door.
My phone receives the text—it's the call for the mission. I guess because I just happened to get back to headquarters at that time, they didn't include me on the second round of texts. That means all of our backup officers will be getting their notifications now.
If the whole pack’s involved, we stand a chance. We have allies, too. We're not alone in this.
The fleet of driverless cars zooms out of the garage and makes its way down the quiet, broad streets of downtown before giving way to the narrower alleys of the Paisley.
Residential areas and boutiques give way to the more industrial part of the neighborhood, to the north of the city. I'm not surprised that Ramsey Hobart has his hideout here. Nobody would ever think to look here, among the abandoned factories and warehouses.
I'm glad we already have a plan in place for if we discovered his hideout. The cars are already programmed, and they start to separate from each other as we’re dispersed around the hideout. We've got to keep the element of surprise.
We got out of the car at the designated stopping point and start the walk over to the warehouse.
My heart is pounding in my chest, and it’s started to rain slightly. That'll kill my sense of smell, though even in human form, it's better than that of regular humans.
I can hear the squad commander talking over the comms in my ear, but everyone else is silent.
There it is. Right across from the vacant lot that looks like it used to be a park. This area of the city looks remarkably old. I wouldn't think twice about it if I were driving through it.
Though with the highways, sometimes you don't even need to drive through it. No wonder it's been ignored for so long.
We start to sidle up to the buildings, make quick, darting movements across the street, press our bodies to the warehouse walls, and make our way in. But once we get past the first wall, there's a door. I guess this part used to be a garage. One of our lockpickers comes to the front and works on opening it, as we still want to surprise them if we can.
I’m surprised that we haven't seen any guards on the way. Not even a single security drone, though I'd bet my bottom dollar that there are hidden sensors and cameras all around this place. They'll be coming soon enough.
The door creaks open slightly, and we quickly make our way through, into the darkness. Following some light leads us to a huge room, which probably used to be the main room of the factory.
There's some guys sitting in fancy upholstered chairs around the coffee table at one corner. A small table lamp illuminates the space around them.
One of the guys is looking right at us. I see some wolves melting out of the shadows and coming toward us, baring their teeth and growling. But there are other animals too. Foxes, coyotes, badgers, even. I had no idea so many different shifters were in the Blacktails.
Sure enough, all of their animal forms have a dyed black tail.
We immediately shift and the fight breaks out within seconds. I find myself grappling with a fox, trying to throw him off of me while another small canine worries my front leg.
They’re more irritating than anything—it's the wolves that I'm worried about. I didn't know there were so many wolves as part of the Blacktails membership. Most
of them are in packs, like we are.
I feel a sharp pain in my side and notice that the wolf is coming at me from behind, while yet another fox is going after my throat.
We’re going to need back up soon, otherwise I'm going to get taken down from sheer numbers. It would be embarrassing to be knocked out and killed by a fox, of all things.
In the midst of the fight, I can barely think about anything beyond my desire to hear back up running in. All I can focus on is the pain that randomly strikes me, teeth enclosed around my limbs, the howls and yelps of pain from the animals fighting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see that one of the guys has remained in human form and has a gun trained on the fray. He doesn't look like he's gonna shoot it, because he doesn't know if he’ll be hitting a friend or foe.
Oh wait. We don't have Blacktails.
As long as we stay close to other animals, we won't be a target. But as soon as I find myself grappling with a large coyote, I hear a shot ring out.
This is madness. Shifters rarely use guns to fight—why use human weapons when we have our own? But maybe that guy isn't a shifter. Maybe he's a human.
My muscles are starting to burn, from the sheer force I'm putting into keeping myself alive. I nearly get winded when a huge wolf slams into me, turned aside by one of our own. Wolves are supposed to have good endurance, but between the events of the last week, I haven't been able to rest.
Just when I feel like I'm going to collapse, I hear more wolves come streaming in through not just my entrance but the other side of the room. One of them takes out the guy with the gun from the back, and the others turn the tide of the fight.
But I don't know who Ramzi Hobart is in all the fray. I hope that the squad leaders dispatched to capture him specifically managed to do so. For now, I just want to recover. Information will come later.
Two medics arrive with the backup crew, and some of us shift back and head back to the cars. The forensics crew has also arrived, and are investigating the coffee table, which managed not to get damaged in the fray.
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