by Sammie Joyce
“Don’t pull that on me!” Van growled and I laughed.
“I’m not kidding. I had no idea it was that late. I need to finish cleaning up and then I’ve got to hit the hay. I’ve got early meetings with clients in the morning.”
“If I get a stock portfolio, will you make time for me?” Vanessa teased.
“Shut up,” I chuckled. “And you really should get a stock portfolio.”
Vanessa groaned.
“I promise, we’ll get together this weekend, okay? Keep a spot open for me,” I went on, wanting her to know that I wasn’t joking about seeing her.
“Make sure you answer your texts, then,” Vanessa shot back.
“Deal.”
I thanked her for checking up on me and bid her good night before replacing the cordless on its charger. From the bathroom, the water finally stopped running and I picked up the pace. I wanted to be back in the sanctuary of my bedroom before Odessa came out and struck up some inane conversation again.
To my relief, I was upstairs before she was done, tucked back in my bed with my MacBook on my legs as I settled back against the mass of pillows by the blackwood headboard.
But my mind wasn’t on work anymore and I opened a new tab, punching in the Expedia web address. I scrolled through vacation deals before opening another screen to look for private islands for sale. I wasn’t going anywhere but it was always nice to pretend I was.
Nope, I was stuck here in Eugene, nursing a half-mad mother and conforming to society, wishing I was far, far away—or at least that my life was slightly more exciting.
Be careful what you wish for, I thought wryly.
I had no idea how prophetic those words would be.
2
Inigo
I hadn’t been looking forward to the meeting that night, mostly because I hadn’t seen the other Protectors since the night Nia had gone haywire. I also hadn’t seen or heard from Fernando or Lorna since then, a fact that made me slightly uneasy. Silence was never a good thing when it came to shifters. It could only mean my superiors were plotting something. Or maybe they were just letting us sleeping wolves lie, assuming that our lessons had been properly taught.
If it wasn’t for Cronin going to our monthly run, I probably would have found some reason to bow out, but truthfully, I missed my friend and I was sure he missed our chats too. Unlike the rest of the Protectors, Cronin worked solo, a lone bear to defend the virtues of his sleuth and ones like his. Of course, we all pitched in where we could but Cronin was truly on his own, a fact that he didn’t mind bringing up at any appropriate (and sometimes inappropriate) occasion.
I parked my Jeep Cherokee near Odell Lake, my eyes trained on the darkness for signs of any other vehicles. I doubted that anyone else would have come on foot, knowing the run we had ahead of us. Still, the leopards sometimes liked to show off, so who could say?
Those monthly meetings were more a matter of checking in than any sense of real comradery. They always seemed to fall on or near the full moon, which, contrary to popular belief, really had no bearing on us whatsoever. Maybe it was simply because the light of the moon was brighter on those nights or perhaps it had fallen in line with some ancient myth and we followed it as blindly as the elders clung to their loathing for the humans. Whatever the reason, we still adhered to the full moon meetings, even if begrudgingly. On one hand, we respected one another and the work we did. How could we not when we all did the same thing? But on the other, us wolves and Cronin didn’t particularly care for the cats and their moderately uppity way. And believe me, the feeling was mutual. We tolerated one another more than we liked one another but ours was a civil society. We could get past our minor differences.
Another set of headlights pierced through the night but even without the illumination of the full moon, I knew who it was, my night vision kicking in even without me shifting.
I was glad Cronin had arrived even before the other lupines, giving me a chance to catch up with him before Marcel and Dalton monopolized our conversation as they tended to do.
Cronin parked beside me and ambled out. As always, I was struck by his formidable posture, his lumbering frame, and his dark, sunken eyes that almost seemed cadaverous. When he shifted, he became the biggest beast I’d ever seen and in those moments, I could understand why Bula and Homer insisted that the bears were more powerful than the rest of us—not that I would ever admit that aloud. I was a wolf, after all, and we believed in equality among the ranks.
“Anyone else here?” Cronin asked by way of greeting. I shook my head, turning my dark mane toward the mountain to see if anyone else was lurking about. I was sure I would have sensed them if they were there, but sometimes, it was better to put Cronin’s mind at ease.
“Not yet—” I started to say but even before I had completed my sentence, I heard the distant roar of two dirt bikes and grimaced softly.
Never mind. I guess we’re not alone after all.
“Those two…” Cronin growled, echoing my inner thoughts. It was a little late in the season for the bikes but that wouldn’t stop Tybalt and Anton from putting on a show. I’d seen the panthers driving their bikes well after the first snow had fallen and judging by the ozone I could smell in the air, we weren’t far off from that again, but the magic in the air could still swing the weather either way.
Tybalt screeched to a halt in front of me, Anton close behind, and they removed their helmets in unison to grin at us.
“Good evening, boys,” Ty purred. “You’re looking very… serious.”
Anton tittered, jumping from his bike to let it fall carelessly onto the dying grass beside him as Ty followed suit. Cronin purposely turned his massive back to the panthers and refocused his attention on me.
“Have you—”
Another glare of headlights interrupted him and I stifled a sigh, realizing that we wouldn’t have a moment to chat before our run began. We hadn’t arrived early enough. I vowed that I would come earlier next time or at least pay Cronin a personal visit during the week sometime.
“We’ll catch up after,” I promised him, striding forward to greet my two pack members. Marcel and Dalton had arrived together in Mars’ pickup truck, the two in heated conversation as I neared them. I could see their lips moving through the windshield and when I rapped on the glass, Dalton rolled down the window.
“Did you hear what happened?” he demanded without preamble. It was only then that I realized Cronin had followed me to the truck, leaving the panthers to slyly smile after us like they knew something we didn’t.
“About the murder?” Cronin asked. I whipped my head back to gape at the bear before turning around to look at the wolves again.
“Murder?” I demanded dubiously. “What murder?”
Marcel sighed, removing his keys from the ignition, and opened the driver’s side door to let himself out.
“We should wait for the others to get here,” Mars muttered, his brow furrowing as he realized we were waiting on the leopards—again.
“Never mind Tony and Landon,” Dalton insisted. “They’re never on time.”
“What are you ladies gossiping about?” Ty asked, lazily approaching the vehicle where the rest of us had gathered.
“Did you hear about a murder?” I asked Ty. I studied his face for a long moment, watching for a flicker of surprise, but there was nothing. A peculiar sensation slid down my neck but before I could identify it, a fourth and final car pulled up at our prearranged location, indicating that the leopards had finally arrived.
“Who died?” I wanted to know, exasperated that we couldn’t all arrive together. I loathed rehashing a conversation four times. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cronin’s shoulders tensing and even without him saying a word, I could tell he was getting riled up.
And a riled-up Cronin was never a good thing.
“Hello, boys!” Tony sang in an off-key way as he swaggered toward them but his smile faltered when his gaze fell upon Cronin’s face.
&nb
sp; “What’s wrong, big fella?” he asked, pausing where he stood. “You look blue.”
“We’re trying to tell you!” Cronin growled. “But none of you fools will stop making this into a party!”
His voice was barely a strangled whisper which made it all the more terrifying but no one seemed to have any issue hearing him.
“All right, Cro,” Mars said quietly. “We’re listening. We hear you.”
I didn’t blame everyone for standing down. Cronin, while one of my closest friends, was not renowned for his patience. Like Nia, if he was pushed too far, he was apt to lose control of his emotions and if that happened, there would be hell to pay regaining his composure again.
“Who died?” I asked again, turning my full attention on him. “Tell me what happened.”
Cronin’s face relaxed slightly and he nodded curtly, sensing my inner desire to see him calm.
“A woman in Eugene,” he said, his voice regaining its normal tone. “Ripped to shreds.”
Ugh. Those words told me everything I needed to know. My instinct to be concerned had been right.
“One of us?” Tony asked disbelievingly. “Are you sure?”
“I never said it was one of us,” Cronin snapped back. “I’m just telling you that she was in ribbons. Unless there’s a human killer out there using a cheese grater…”
“Aw, Cro,” Tybalt groaned, his face paling slightly. “Thanks for that mental picture.”
Cronin scowled at him.
“Is your stomach too weak for this?” he demanded sarcastically and the two faced off, animus beginning to flow between them. I stepped forward, holding up a hand.
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions either way,” I said firmly. “I’ll see what else I can find out about this when I get to the office.”
All eyes turned to me and a nod of approval flowed through my seven companions.
“It helps to have a shyster in the pack, doesn’t it?” Dalton chortled, clapping me on the back as if I’d solved the entire problem, but I didn’t smile. I caught Cronin’s worried look out of the corner of my eye but when I tried to meet his gaze, he looked away.
“Well?” Anton grumbled.
“Well what?” Mars snapped back.
“Are we going to stand here all night gossiping like schoolgirls or are we going for a run?” Ant barked, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest.
Begrudgingly, we nodded, each one of us falling forward to morph into our animal forms. Almost instantly, a surge of energy permeated the air, our eyes flashing against the darkness at one another as we became a mass of thick, heavy fur and bright, glowing eyes.
I licked at my dripping snout, falling back onto my haunches to lift my nose to the sky. Curiously, I smelled something strange, something that didn’t belong. I looked about but my companions were already dispersing, none of them seeming any wiser as they left me behind. Only Cronin and I remained but when I looked at him again, he turned his massive skull away and scampered over the field, away from where the others had disappeared.
Where is he going now?
There was nothing to say that we had to stick together, but as a rule, when we met, we ran together, even if we lost each other along the way. The purpose of these meetings was to bond, after all, even if we didn’t do much in the way of spilling our deepest secrets to one another, at least not with the cats. Cronin was going off on his own. Did he want me to follow him?
It didn’t seem that way but I was torn for a moment, staring after him. I didn’t like leaving Cronin alone when he was suffering bouts of melancholy but I also knew he didn’t want anyone to see his struggle against the magic. To him, being unable to control his aggression was a sign of weakness and the Protectors couldn’t be weak. That said, he couldn’t do it on his own and I was the closest shifter to him.
But before I could consider making a move in his direction, I was again entranced by the scent of something foreign, something unknown and, frankly, worrisome. Instantly, I thought of the dead woman who had been torn to shreds and for no other reason than my gut guiding me, I stuck my snout to the ground and permitted myself to be led by my intuition.
It had been a while since I’d followed the trail of trouble and I had to admit, I was excited to see where it would take me. Yet as I moved, I couldn’t help but hear the stern warnings of the Council.
What they don’t know won’t hurt them, I thought smugly, racing away.
3
Inigo
Stealthily, I sprinted across the landscape, barely noticing the feel of foliage under my paws. Most nights, I relished the sensation of the shift, if only once a month when the Protectors met. For the most part, I found shifting to be cumbersome and sometimes unpredictable.
Of course, I didn’t have any issues hiding my beastly nature but others like me had not been so fortunate. Cronin, for one, often let his emotions get the best of him and when his aggression began to rear its ugly head, a morph was inevitable.
There I was, thinking about my bear buddy again when my snout was on a completely different train of thought. I honestly wasn’t sure where I was at that point but I knew I was miles away from where I’d first parted with the others. Idly I realized I’d have to go back and get my car. The thought made me grimace but I was too far along now to worry about it. Going back would take longer than seeing my hunt through.
Tomorrow was going to be a long, exhausting day.
The scent I was following seemed to intensify and diminish without any rhyme or reason but somehow, my well-honed instincts kept on it. I wasn’t sure what it was all about, only that I needed to get to the source of it, but by the time the city lights of Eugene appeared on the horizon, I suspected that I’d been led on a wild goose chase. What the hell had inspired me to start tailing a smell anyway? There were lots of strange scents in the wild, particularly out in the middle of nowhere. I considered that maybe the story about the murdered human had kickstarted my intrigue.
Or maybe you were just trying to get away from the cats, I thought, slightly bemused. I couldn’t stay in my wolf form, not this close to town, and without much effort, I shifted back into my mortal form, brushing off the stray leaves and twigs that had twined into my thick head of chestnut-colored hair.
With a sigh, I realized that I could still detect whoever it was I had my sights on but without my wolf’s nose, I had to concentrate harder to find him.
Or her?
No, it was definitely a male. This wasn’t a mating dance, I was sure, even though it had been a long while since I’d been caught in one of those. This was something else entirely… even if I had no idea what it was. I was unsettled, not aroused, and I knew I needed to see it through.
Taking a deep breath, I started forward, entering the city limits with a renewed determination. He wasn’t far and while I wasn’t sure what I was going to find, I was beginning to have a bad feeling.
Get back to Diamond Peak and meet up with the others. They’ll be wondering where you went.
But I had never been very good at listening to my voice of reason and that night was no exception. Anyway, they wouldn’t be that concerned. We watched out for one another, not babysat each other. If I didn’t return, the others wouldn’t wait.
Eugene, despite boasting a population of over 150,000 people (not including the shifters who hid themselves outside the main hub, preferring to live in their animal skins full-time), was asleep at that hour of the morning. I rather enjoyed the peace of the silence at that time, a gentle reminder that life in Eugene could be quiet, even though I rarely saw that side of it. After work hours, I could usually be found glued to my computer with a brandy by the fireplace, working on briefs and prepping for depositions until the wee hours of the morning. I was truly more mortal than wolf when Protector matters didn’t distract me but as I moved stealthily through the town, I wondered why I didn’t appreciate my gift more.
There were only a handful of places that could be open after midnight. Som
e bars, gas stations, and, of course, the ever-present Late-Mart which never closed, not even on Christmas. It was there that I found myself, wandering inside to greet Vijay working behind the counter. He barely looked up from his newspaper but to give me a sidelong look and half-smile.
“I should have known it was you,” he chuckled, flipping the pages. “Where are the rest of you?”
I returned his brief smile, my eyes darting around the surprisingly spacious convenience store.
“I lost them somewhere,” I confessed. “Were you expecting me?”
Vijay winked, finally casting the newspaper aside.
“That’s okay. You’re the best one of them anyway,” he teased. “And I always expect you around this time of the month.”
I laughed, knowing that he was stroking my ego. A year back, his family had encountered a terrible time with ICE. Immigration services had threatened to deport him, his wife, and his American-born sons to India even though Vijay had come legally. The man was a business owner and contributing member of society, not to mention a staple in our community. When I’d caught wind of this atrocity, I had offered my firm’s services to help him out, pro bono, putting our only immigration lawyer on the case. Homeland had never seen the sweet-faced Bernadette coming and the attorney had truly gone for the jugular to win their stay. Vijay had never stopped showing his gratitude, incessantly trying to give me free stuff at the store, even though I refused. It had been my pleasure to keep Vijay and his family in the country, even though the Council had been livid to learn what I’d done.
“That would have been one less human family to worry about in our parts!” Lorna had yelled at me. I hadn’t bothered to again explain to her that humans were our friends.
Moreover, I suspected that Vijay knew we were shifters, Bernie and me, but I’d never come right out and asked him. If he did know, he was no threat to us, contrary to what the Council thought.
“You alone in here tonight, Vijay?” I asked, still looking about, the hairs on my neck bristling.
