Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  “Had plans Friday, but she cancelled—so I guess anytime.”

  “Good, because Philippe is only free on Friday.”

  “So, this is clan business? No outsiders?”

  “Apparently. Who would you invite? This girl? Is it serious?”

  “No, it’s not. Just want to be clear, just in case, you know?”

  “Let me know if it turns serious and I’ll talk you through how to tell her.”

  “You’ve never told.”

  “No, I haven’t. But it’s something my father explained to me before he retired. Since Brock didn’t need to put the information to any use, good or bad, and neither Jane or Philippe show any signs of settling down, I might as well teach you.”

  “And you do show signs of settling down?”

  “Watch yourself.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The display of dominance was only half play, and Jules was careful not to cross any lines. Remy was fair and kind, as far as clan chiefs went, but he was still the boss and his bear would not let any shows of disrespect stand without asserting his dominance again.

  “Get some sleep, Jules, you sound rough. Call me tomorrow if you’re still feeling unsettled, otherwise I’ll see you at Brock’s for dinner.”

  “Oh, time?”

  “Just come straight from work.”

  The line went dead so Jules hung up.

  Kaylee came in the back door Friday morning, her mother’s warning about Freddie ringing in her ears, and honestly, she didn’t want to cross paths with him. She noted that Jules’ car was already parked outside, so she started running over what she would say to him again. She’d only been rehearsing it silently in her mind since she left the house that morning.

  She walked into their shared office to find two steaming mugs of coffee waiting on the desk. And cinnamon buns. She looked at Jules. He actually appeared embarrassed, which looked silly on such a big man.

  “What’s this?”

  “I owed you for yesterday. And you seemed upset when you left, so I thought cinnamon buns would make it better.” He was giving her a puppy dog look.

  Her resolve crumbled along with the rest of her anger. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She took a deep breath. “My plans got rearranged this weekend. I’m free tonight if you still wanted to do something.”

  He frowned. “Can’t. Remember my friends I mentioned, the ones that got me through school?”

  “Yeah.”

  “One of them called last night. We’re having a bit of a reunion tonight. One of the guys, his wife is pregnant.”

  “Congrats,” she said automatically, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Jane was going to be there too.

  “But I’m free tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, I made plans with my sister tomorrow. She needs a break from the teen scene.”

  “Hey, that’s okay,” he said quickly, picking up on her sour tone. “This isn’t the last weekend we’ll ever see. Why don’t we try again next weekend?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a half-hearted shrug. “My plans from tonight are up in the air, and I don’t know when my friend will want to reschedule.”

  “We can play it by ear then.” He smiled at her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sure,” she said. “What are we working on today?”

  Jules’ one-bedroom apartment was small even by one-bedroom apartment standards. Brock and Gia’s house was an old-world mansion built by someone in Brock’s family generations before and carefully maintained. The Tandell family was old money, and now they had a mega-million-dollar corporation that had multiple branches and investments, keeping their bank accounts full. Jules had been over a few times when he was younger, but the house had always intimidated him. He preferred hanging out at Remy’s, a modest two-bedroom bungalow in the gray zone between the inner city where Jules grew up and the pretty suburbs where muggings and such were just a myth.

  They ate in the kitchen, all of them up on the bar stools around the kitchen island. Gia and Connie, the Tandell’s housekeeper, had been so busy in the nursery that neither had had the time or energy to cook for six and had ordered Chinese. There was a bottle of wine nestled between the takeout containers, and Brock and Jane each had a beer on the go. Gia was sipping a water but was eyeing the wine.

  “I didn’t drink a lot before,” she said, “But I would kill for a glass of wine right now.”

  Brock leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Soon.”

  “While I appreciate Chinese on my day off on Brock’s dime,” Philippe said. “What’s the occasion?”

  “We had an ultrasound appointment this week,” Brock said, “And the doctor had some concerns. Since I’m out, the doctors realized the baby might not be exactly normal by human standards and was hoping for some information on werebear births.”

  “Concerns about what exactly?” Remy asked.

  “The baby is too small,” Gia said. “They’re not sure it will be big enough to survive when I reach full term.”

  Jules glanced at Gia. It certainly explained how the already tiny woman had stayed so small this late into her pregnancy.

  “I guess the doctor is wondering if that’s normal. I know I am.”

  They all looked at each other and shrugged. Except for Jules. “Actually,” he said. “It’s completely normal. I was tiny when I was born. My dad always called me the runt of his litter.”

  They all turned to stare at him. He wasn’t quite as big as Brock or Philippe, but he was bigger than Remy, if not in height then at least in the shoulders. All of the men were bigger than Jane. It was hard to imagine that this tall, broad-shouldered man had ever been small, that any of them had ever been ‘the smallest.’

  “I was small,” he repeated. “My mom said I ate like nothing she’d ever seen before. She used to get into these fights with my dad over money. He didn’t believe her when she told him how much I was eating, how she needed more money to feed me. How could something that small eat so much? Of course, that was before anyone knew I was a werebear. Hell, I think that was even before my mother knew my father was a werebear.”

  Remy shook his head and muttered, “Jackass,” under his breath.

  “If you were so different from his other kids, why didn’t he put two and two together?” Gia asked.

  “My half-sisters aren’t that much older than me. For all I know, he thought they were bears and I wasn’t. His oldest turned twelve and—nothing. Then the youngest, same thing. By the time I was twelve, I was a good two or three inches taller than the next tallest kid in my class and big enough that the kids took to teasing me for being fat. That year I shifted. Thank God he had enough sense to warn my mother that it might happen. She called Remy’s father and they loaded me up, brought me to the warehouse, every one of them straining against the moon’s call until we were safely inside.” He shrugged.

  “Why isn’t this common knowledge?” Gia said.

  This time Remy spoke up. “My parents probably know, but they’re away on a cruise and won’t be back until a few days before full moon next week. We don’t talk to Jules’ dad. Brock’s parents are gone. Philippe’s parents are gone as well, and Jane …”

  “Gone,” she said. “Canada’s a scary place to grow up a bear. Here a bear on the loose is a rarity, something to take pictures of and point at. In Canada, if you shift at the wrong time and place someone will shoot you. And they’re damn good shots.”

  Gia put a hand defensively over her stomach. “We are not moving to Canada.”

  Brock kissed her cheek. “It’s too cold there,” he said. “And my job requires that I stay.”

  “Good.”

  “Thing is,” Remy went on. “Bears are naturally solitary animals. They only really come together during the heavy feeding season in the autumn, and even then it’s more like they put up with other bears being closer than usual because they’re all looking for food. Mother bears only keep the cubs around a few years, and then they’re on their own. The werewolves are
different. They marry younger, have more kids, and spend more time with the pack, even the children. They are communal—we are not. When you add to that society’s shift towards smaller families and both men and women waiting until later to have those families, and young people moving half a country away from their parents in search of work, well, that affects the generational connectivity of the clans.”

  “No one thinks to record this stuff?” Gia said.

  “Our history has always been oral. Then there is nothing for the humans to find that way,” Remy said.

  “Jules,” Gia said in her sweetest voice. She’d used that voice on Brock in their hearing, had even used it on Remy a time or two. Jules was glad he didn’t live with her. “I know your mother has very little contact with the clan, but would she be willing to talk to me? She might be the only one who can answer some of my questions about what to expect with this baby.”

  “I’ll ask her,” Jules said, knowing better than to argue. “You know if she agrees to this she’ll start chasing me for grandkids.”

  “How much longer do we have to wait to meet this kid?” Philippe asked.

  “Three months,” Brock said. “This is the home stretch.”

  “Excuse me,” Gia said, slipping off her stool. “This little cub likes to tap dance on Mama’s bladder.”

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Remy said, “There is, of course, the small matter of a baby shower to deal with.”

  “I thought Gia’s mom was doing that,” Jane said. “Because I’m not. And don’t make me the de facto babysitter either.”

  “You’d have to arm wrestle Connie for that job,” Brock said. “And don’t count on you being a werebear to give you the edge. That kid is going to grow up thinking Connie is its grandmother.”

  “Not a bad thing,” Remy said. “And yes, Mrs. Carosa is throwing a baby shower, but I doubt that any of us will be invited. First of all, we aren’t out, so aside from myself, a low-level employee of the Tandell Corporation, there is no real connection between any of us and Gia. Second, I think Mrs. Carosa partially blames the werebear community for her husband’s imprisonment.”

  “The guy was a jerk,” Jules said. “No offense Brock.”

  “None taken.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait for this baby to come out,” Gia said as she returned. “I think I’m kind of happy he’ll be small at birth. I can’t imagine getting much bigger than this.”

  “Just text us,” Jules said to Remy. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Just text me and I’ll be there,” Jane said. “But that’s it.”

  “Humbug,” Philippe said.

  “Ass,” Jane shot back.

  “What did I miss?” Gia said.

  “Clan stuff,” Remy said. He smiled at her. “How’s the nursery coming along?”

  Gia didn’t need any more urging than that. She talked for the next hour, almost nonstop, without letting anyone else get a word in edgewise—about the nursery, the clothes, the baby-and-me yoga program, the prenatal classes, and everything else baby related. And somehow, she still managed to eat her fair share of the Chinese.

  When she was finally winding down and the takeout containers were empty, they all pitched in and did a quick tidying up of the kitchen before heading out to their cars.

  “Hey, Jane, hold up,” Jules said. He unlocked his car and reached inside, coming up with a 2x3 cardboard folder. He tossed it Frisbee style and Jane caught it between her hands.

  “What’s this for?” She held up the gift card.

  “For the rescue this week.”

  “Yeah, this makes up for it. Next time I’ll charge more.”

  He laughed as she disappeared into her car. Of course, he also knew she was serious.

  Remy, who had stayed behind to discuss something with Brock, jogged over. “Jules,” he said. “I wanted to catch you before you left.”

  “You caught me,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  “This girl. The one that’s got you in knots. Is she safe?”

  “She’s not a reporter and she hasn’t asked any questions about werebears. It’s never once come up in conversation. As far as she knows, my only connection to you and Brock is that you helped me out with my schooling. And she doesn’t have your names, either, so Brock being out won’t cast suspicion on me.”

  “That means she’s not a threat to the clan. But is she safe for you? Jules, is she going to cause you problems with your bear?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s just that awkward stage where we don’t know if we even have a thing yet. I’ll tread lightly and go slowly and all that. I’m getting better, okay? Philippe is talking to Patrick. There might be a connection through the pack to a head doctor who can help me out.”

  “Keep me up to speed, okay?”

  “Sure thing boss.”

  Jules sat at his desk staring at the computer screen. His cellphone was sitting next to the mouse. The words on the screen were simple enough, the message short.

  “Two hundred dollars by the end of the weekend or the video is on the Monday morning early edition on every station.”

  There was a new email address to send the money to.

  His right hand reached out slowly and closed over the mouse. A few clicks and a few keystrokes later he was looking at his bank account. He had rent to pay yet that month, plus food. He couldn’t afford to be skipping meals, or the bear would take over and go looking for food on his own. His paycheck had just come in, but even so his account was lean.

  He took a deep breath and set up the transfer. Moving the mouse, his finger hit the side of the phone. He looked down at it and the guilt welled up inside him. He knew he should be calling Remy, not sending this guy more money, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone.

  “I’ve got this under control,” he said to the empty room, but there was a knot in his stomach and it was getting tighter.

  It was raining again. Pouring. It started around two that afternoon. It was Tuesday and the tension between Kaylee and Jules was only now lessening. They both heard the thunder and looked up. They each saved every file they had open on their systems, just in case.

  “I didn’t bring an umbrella,” she said. “And the bus was late yesterday because of construction. It’ll probably be late all week.”

  “Want a lift home?”

  “I’m a little out of your way.”

  “I know that. I’ve driven you home before. I don’t mind, Kaylee.”

  “All right. It beats waiting in the rain.”

  They worked a little longer, the sounds of the rain muted by the concrete walls. When it was time to go, they made a mad dash out the back door to his car.

  “Thank God for those little fobs,” she laughed as she slid in. “No more waiting in the rain for the door to be unlocked.”

  “You’re not old enough to remember cars with manual locks,” he said.

  “Sure I am. My siblings, not so much.”

  Traffic was ugly and for the most part they didn’t talk, but at one point their conversation turned to Kaylee’s college classes. She was ranting about textbooks and other costs when Jules jumped in.