by RJ Blain
“I guessed as much. Kenneth? Do you really want her? She’s going to be a handful for the next few weeks, and you will emerge with a few scars, possibly some broken bones, and damage to your pride and ego.”
“What’s going on?” Jolene asked. “Why is he asking you that, Ken?”
I foresaw a few uncomfortable minutes while Kenneth explained the situation.
“The angel bribed me to marry her daughter, and I’m trying to figure out how to get Emma to agree to it. I underestimated how much lycanthropes can eat, though. I’m going to have to renegotiate the terms with this new information.”
“Done,” Ma said. “I’ll add an appropriate amount to ensure she’s properly fed.”
I honked a protest over Ma trying to sell me to Kenneth again.
“I’m not selling you, silly chick. I’m bribing him to pursue you. There’s a difference.”
“Ken?” Jolene demanded.
“What? I’m not going to deny it. Do you know how many dance theaters I went to trying to figure out where she worked so I could watch her perform? I worked overtime to pay for all those tickets.”
Silence fell over us, and Dad broke it with a rumbling chuckle. “Why didn’t you just ask me in court, Kenneth? I would’ve told you where she worked.”
“I didn’t realize she was your daughter,” he replied, his tone sheepish. “I knew you had the same last name, but since the case wasn’t going to court, I didn’t have any access to other information, and I didn’t look closely at her identification during the arrest. Had I, I would’ve abused my powers and run her address.”
Dad snickered, and I clacked my beak and hissed at him. “That would’ve saved you some trouble.”
“You’re making her want to bite you again, George,” Ma announced.
Mom laughed and leaned over, and to make it clear I was a freak of nature, she’d showed up in her natural form, and mocked me with a sensuous stretch of her back wings.
Bitch.
Ma laughed. “I’m not going to repeat what she’s thinking about you.”
“It’s not every day I get to show off without her getting an attitude about it. Clamp her beak closed so we don’t have to listen to her making a fuss.”
“No. She’s cranky enough without adding to it. All right, little chick. I’m going to toss you up there. Try not to hurt yourself attacking either one of your mothers. Let’s try to get through your first shift without a maiming.”
Without waiting for my approval, Dad worked an arm under me, picked me up, and launched me into the air. I honked my alarm, spread my wings, and flapped. I stayed aloft for a few seconds before crashing into the dirt at Kenneth’s feet.
I rolled to my feet, reared back, and spread my wings, opening my beak and eyeing potential targets. Who would I bite first?
All three of my parents deserved a hard nip.
Kenneth chuckled, seized my neck beneath my head, and wrapped his arm around my chest, pulling me towards him. “Easy, jail bird. A bath, a good dinner, a change of clothes, and some time to dance your heart out will help, and you don’t need to beat your parents today. We said we’d negotiate on that tomorrow.”
I hissed, straining to reach Dad, who climbed out of the hole covered in mud.
“You figured out the magic combination to appease the beast,” my father observed.
“She’s not hard to understand. Everything that delayed her from dancing upset her, so she needs a chance to get some dancing in because dancing is probably how she relaxes and copes with the unexpected. Lycanthropes eat a lot, although her card made it look like she wasn’t anywhere near her first shift. I’ve seen some of my co-workers eat, and they can clean out a grocery store if they’ve had to shift a lot in one day. As for the bath, that one’s obvious. You need one just as bad as she does, Mr. Sansaul.”
“I noticed.” Dad grabbed the hose and washed off the worse of the mud before pulling on his jeans. “Wrap her in my shirt. I don’t want to force water into her feathers and get her cold. We’re resistant to illness, but we can get sick just like regular humans.”
Ma took Dad’s shirt and approached. “Put your wings down, young lady. We’re going to clear out and let the police handle the situation from here. They should be arriving within the next few minutes. Miss Bernard, I trust you’ll make yourself accessible for questioning?”
“Of course.”
“Excellent.”
As Ma would abuse her angelic powers to make me do what she wanted, I lowered my wings and limited my protests to silent promises of payback at a later date, which made her laugh. She used Dad’s shirt to towel me off, and once satisfied, she stole Dad’s jacket and wrapped it around me. “Think you can handle seventy or so pounds of angry swan, Kenneth?”
“Unless she wants me carrying her, she can walk. If she does want me to carry her, I’ll figure something out.”
I waddled towards the tunnel to make it clear I had no interest in being carried.
Chapter Twelve
Cleaning a swan involved four people, one jet tub, dish soap Dad declared safe for waterfowl, and so much cursing Ma refused to stay in the room. I thought I handled it well. I didn’t bite anyone, and I limited my protests to the occasional hiss. Kenneth handled most of the work, soaping my feathers and rinsing out the suds until he was satisfied.
If he’d listened to Dad, we would’ve been finished a lot faster.
“A little soap isn’t going to hurt her,” my father promised. “This can go one of two ways. Once I help her shift back to human, she might be energized, or she might collapse and need to sleep it off. Either way, we need to call in a CDC rep to check her virus levels; she was tested three months ago, and her levels were nowhere near what is needed for a first shift.”
Kenneth got to his feet, dried his hands, and fetched his phone. “I’ll take care of the rep and check in with Chief Rochester to see what we’re going to need to do about the murders.”
“You’re probably going to be done with this case within a day; you’re going to have to disclose you’re connected to someone involved, which will bump another pair onto the case, not that there’s much of one.”
“That woman was a lunatic,” Jolene muttered, watching from the bathroom door. “Who the hell was she, Ken?”
“Her name’s Cathy Poulette, a drug addict and dealer I busted a few years ago.”
“That explains it, especially since you were hitting all the theaters. She tracked you?”
“She must have. I didn’t exactly hide I was looking for a dancer, and I wasn’t having any luck with internet searches. For a professional, you’re hard to find, jail bird.”
“She’s stands in for sick or injured dancers. It’s not exactly a prestigious job,” Dad replied. “And don’t get me wrong. I’m very proud of my daughter, but she’s always been happier making sure things don’t fall apart than taking the spotlight. Her work hit the right balance with her. She got to dance a lot, as she had to learn the routines, but she could avoid the stress of moving a lot and the general disadvantages of performance. There was a lot of pressure on her, but she liked the challenge her work provided.”
“I think she’d prefer to speak for herself. Has she been a swan long enough to safely shift?”
Dad nodded and shooed everyone else out of the bathroom. “I’ll bring her out in a few minutes, so you just wait in the other room. I expect she’ll be napping within a few minutes.”
“I’ll make sure her bed’s ready,” Kenneth replied, darting out of the room.
Mom rolled her eyes, flung her hands in the air, and followed. Jolene stared at me for a long moment, shrugged, and closed the bathroom door behind her.
“All right, Emma. This’ll take some getting used to, but try to think about the thing that makes you a human more than anything else. Focus on it and reclaim it. Your virus isn’t your enemy, and the faster you accept both sides of you, the faster and easier it’ll be for you to shift. Your virus will always have a mind of it
s own, but it’s a lot easier to control when you’re not fighting it all the time.” Dad stroked his hand over my head and ruffled my feathers. “Go on and give it a shot.”
What made me human? What made anyone human?
I didn’t even have a chance to think it through before pain ripped through me. I shifted, and instead of making friends with my virus, I made acquaintances with the floor.
The murmur of conversation woke me, and I cracked open an eye to discover the door to the living room of the suite cracked open. Mom slipped into my bedroom, grinned, and closed the door behind her. "Are you ready to get up this time?"
Her question implied someone had tried to wake me up before without success. "Maybe."
"You bit your father fairly hard the last time he tried to get you up."
"He probably deserved it."
"While I agree with you, he's sulking."
"Did you marry a child?" I considered burrowing under the duvet and refusing to emerge for a few years. "What did he want?"
"To feed you. He's anxious. The CDC rep who came to check your virus levels reported the same levels as your last test. Since we have photographic evidence you shifted and an angel's word on it, they're itching to figure out how it's possible you shifted on an underdeveloped virus. The worrywarts out there are going to make themselves sick at the rate they're going. Your male is going to throw up on someone if he doesn't calm his lanky ass down."
"Kenneth?"
"Yes, that male. He's blaming himself for everything, as he'd done so much theater touring looking for you and hadn't realized he was being stalked by that addict he'd busted."
"Good stalkers don't let their victims know, and she had the right ability to do it undetected," I pointed out.
"I wish you the best of luck convincing him of that. We've been trying all morning. His sister's about ready to murder him because he's being stubborn. The living room is a war zone. Spare us from their idiocy, please."
"You want me to get out of bed and tell a bunch of adults to grow up? Before breakfast."
"You also need to have your virus levels checked again, and the CDC rep is here, but after you went for your dad's throat like he was on the menu, no one wants to test their luck."
I wondered how long it would take someone other than me to realize that there was nothing wrong with my virus; they just weren't looking in the right place for it. "I think you're exaggerating."
Mom pointed at the floor, and I rolled over for a look. A pink, shimmering spot in the pale carpeting betrayed where someone had done decontamination work. "That little spot cost your father five hundred dollars, young lady."
"Serves him right for disturbing me."
"Please just get out of bed, get dressed, and calm the men down already. Your father's sulking, and your male is going to need to be peeled off the ceiling given ten minutes and any stimulation."
"First, I don't have a male. Second, the man that is not my property has a name. It's Kenneth. Third, I do not want to know what a succubus considers to be stimulation."
"Nothing I would find amusing, I assure you. The CDC rep knocked on the door, Emma. He almost went into orbit."
"Maybe you should ask the CDC rep for some pixie dust or a sedative." I stretched, groaned, and considered if I wanted to take a shower before dealing with the disaster in the living room. "Why is Kenneth so jumpy?"
"You're fresh off your first shift, he wants you, and he's afraid he can't compete with every other unmated lycanthrope on the block. I realize you haven't had breakfast yet, but don't be dense. Your father has been warning you about this since you were little. Until you're mated, men are going to be interested in you. Add in your succubus genes, and you're going to be the most interesting woman they've ever seen, and you'll attract women, too. Once your virus has established its claim on your mate, you'll find things are easier. In him, it'll drive other females away from your territory, and it'll keep males away from you, too."
I waved her off. "Yes, yes. I've heard it before. The lycanthropy virus ensures mated couples stick together to procreate, raise children, and spread the virus."
"And your virus is going to be pressuring you to get busy. Either pick, or your virus will pick for you."
"Between you and Ma, you'd have me at the bridal shop picking a dress by the end of the day."
"That might be fun. Do you have anything planned for today?"
"I was planning on starting with killing my father."
"We said we would negotiate!" Kenneth barked from the other room.
"Come tell that to my face you peacock of an FBI agent!" I screamed back.
Mom arched a brow. "Wouldn't you prefer to get dressed first?"
I rolled out of bed, snarled a few curses at my mother, and stomped to the bathroom. While tempted to slam the door, I didn't. Maybe a shower would help. Showers always helped.
The shower didn’t help, but at least I was clean and clothed. I wrapped my hair in a towel, piled the mess on my head, and braved the living room, muttering curses over having been woken up so I could be poked and prodded by a CDC rep.
There were a lot more people than I expected in the suite, which soured my mood further. Three men in lab coats stood near the door, probably praying for salvation and a quick escape. Kenneth, his sister, and an older gentleman played cards on the floor, while Dad and Mom took over the couch. “It’s just a party in here, isn’t it? Where’s Ma? What happened to this being a room for two?”
“Please forgive my daughter. By nature, swans are cranky and aggressive. I’m sure she’ll settle down after she’s picked a mate for herself and marked her territory,” Dad said, patting the empty spot on the couch between him and Mom. “Come sit, Emma. Your ma’s running some errands. She thought people might relax a bit if she wandered off for a while. There are three CDC reps here to look over your numbers. They brought every meter they could get a hold of trying to figure out why your virus levels are so low for someone capable of shifting.”
That explained the three men in lab coats praying for salvation near the door. I pointed at the older man with Kenneth and Jolene. “Who’s he?”
“Your future boss, Mr. Weston Harold,” my father introduced.
I scowled at Kenneth. “Why haven’t we negotiated about the brutal murder of my father yet?”
“You were sleeping,” he replied without looking up from his cards. “He even flew in from New York to meet you and sign all the papers so you can start training. We’re officially off the case, and we’ll need to go through a gauntlet of questioning. Sorry, jail bird. We’ll probably be stuck in Colorado for an extra week because of it. In good news, if you can rein that temper in of yours, we can catch the tail end of the retreat and get some dancing in. They revamped the entire schedule. We can slide in whenever we want, although understandably, a lot of the dancers are concerned about additional foul play.”
“Can they schedule our questioning for after our dancing?”
Kenneth glanced at his boss, potentially my future boss if I continued to abandon my common sense, and waited.
“I’m sure arrangements can be made,” Mr. Harold conceded. “There’s the matter of your employment. Fortunately, the FBI doesn’t discriminate against lycanthropes, although we will need to do evaluations of your temperament prior to the first training session. Agent Bernard would accompany you, as we’ve come to the conclusion it’s unwise to separate partners even when one is going through training and the other isn’t, so he’ll get to enjoy another round of training before returning to duty. I would’ve liked a better chance to evaluate your performance, but I’m satisfied you have the capacity to determine when lethal force is a requirement and have the ability to think on your feet.”
“You have an asinine hiring method, Mr. Harold.”
“I’m all about the results, and having worked with lycanthropes before, I’m expecting good things from you. Most of the lycanthropes I’ve worked with have been wolves, so I’ll be interested in seeing
how an avian works out. You have the education. You’re capable of taking care of yourself to an acceptable degree, although I’m going to take Agent Bernard’s recommendation for self-defense courses seriously. I’m confident you’ll partner well with Agent Bernard, who is notoriously difficult to find a partner for.”
“Which defect is responsible for that?”
“We’d be here all day if we made a list. For the sake of efficiency, we’ll call it a personality defect coupled with a severe ego. I’m sure you’ll have no problems keeping him in line.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “We’re like fire and gasoline, Mr. Harold.”
“That’s what makes it fun for both of you. I can promise you one thing: you’ll never be bored.”
Not being bored went into the pro category, but I wouldn’t admit that to anyone. “I’m going to need a hiring bonus if I’m going to have to put up with him long-term.”
“How about a month of paid vacation before you begin training?” he replied.
A month would give me enough time to get my affairs in order before taking an unexpected left turn into law enforcement. “I still think your hiring methods are asinine. I also think you’re crazy to want to hire me.”
“Honesty is a virtue, although I’d appreciate if you learned some diplomacy when delivering the truth in future.”
I shrugged and leveled a glare at Kenneth. “This is all your fault.”
Once again, he kept his gaze locked on his cards. “Whatever you say, Little Miss Lawyer.”
He annoyed me and my virus in equal measure, resulting in a plume of shed feathers. I flapped over the table and beat the insufferable FBI agent with my wings until Dad pulled me off, restraining me with an iron-hard grip on my neck.
“It’s going to be a long day,” Dad predicted.
Despite the pummeling I’d given him, Kenneth laughed.
Of the CDC’s scanners, only one reported a high presence of the virus in my body, giving credence to the theory my virus was hiding out in unconventional places in my body. Once their specialized scanner picked up on the higher concentration of the virus, the three men made progress.
