Illicit

by Cathy Clamp

  Rachel shrugged and turned away from the scene. Her scent wasn’t concerned, wasn’t even interested anymore. “Eh, they’re just playing. They’re probably tired and bored.”

  The tiger councilman looked at her from the doorway, his head cocked with interest. “Really … Why do you think that?”

  “You can’t see their gums, so they’re not baring teeth, and when they grab, they’re not shaking their prey to kill.”

  Thanks to Rachel, Dalvin saw it too—the bears were like dogs roughhousing; one would fall over while the other mock mauled him. But there was no effort, no real fire to the struggle. “Huh. I think you’re right.”

  “Yep,” Amber agreed, “they’re blowing off steam. I see it all the time with Charles’s family.”

  Another loud roar rattled a framed photograph on the wall. Rachel looked out again, then let out a small raspberry. “They’re not even using their claws. I saw what bear claws can do without much effort on my car roof.” She looked pointedly at Tamir. “Thanks a lot for that, by the way. I’m going to have a soaked front seat next time it rains.”

  Sinking into a red-cushioned chair, she began pushing back her cuticles with purple-tinted nails. “I don’t blame the bears. This town is so boring it makes people want to fight just to keep themselves sane. That’s why I still want to leave. Just say the word and I’m out of here.”

  The door opened and Larissa burst into the room. A fluffy white scarf wrapped around her neck over a long brown top and her white leggings showed off her long legs even better than her high-heeled black boots. Spotting Dalvin, she raced over and wrapped herself around him.

  “Agent, come quickly. They are fighting. They will kill each other. You must stop them.”

  A sarcastic snort came from two spots in the room simultaneously—Amber and Rachel.

  He untangled Larissa’s arms; it felt strange to have her holding him just then, but he wasn’t sure why. “I was watching, Larissa, and I really don’t think they’re trying to hurt each other.”

  “Yes, yes,” she insisted. “They are tearing at each other! It will end the peace talks and there will be war.”

  “Oh, there’ll be war all right—especially if Agent Adway charges out there and forces them to stop playing.” Hands on hips, Amber was glowering at the Bosnian bear shifter, who turned a face full of innocence to her.

  “Oh! Madam Doctor,” Larissa said, “I didn’t see you there. But please, you must believe me. There is no playing between our sloths. If both were part of my family, then yes. But not this.”

  “Uh-huh,” Rachel commented not so quietly from the corner. “There’s playing going on, all right. Playa getting played right in front of me.”

  The young bear’s eyes narrowed as she focused on Rachel for the first time. She raised her nose and sniffed delicately, her nose wrinkling in an expression of disdain. “I do not know you. You are barely Sazi and smell of servitude. Why do you believe you may even speak in my presence?”

  Dalvin saw the volcano forming. Rachel stood in a rush. “Excuse me? I smell of servitude?” For someone with barely any magic of her own, she could move fast. He raced forward, grabbing Rachel by the shoulders just before she reached Larissa.

  CHAPTER 4

  She was going to rip the brown hair right off that bear. Servitude? Servitude? Yeah, she might have been the omega, but she was nobody’s servant. “You’re going to miss the peace talks, lady, because I’m going to smack you into next week.”

  The owl agent grabbed her before she could reach the startled bear. “Chill out, chello pop!”

  His words stopped her cold. She turned to him, studying his face for long moments, putting together what he’d said with his last name, searching for familiar features. The eyelashes. She remembered those eyelashes, so very long for a boy. A flash of memory: the two of them sitting on her parents’ stoop, him growling at her for wanting to brush mascara into those lashes, wanting to see how long they could get. But this face, this body, were so very different from the ones she remembered. “Dalvin?” The word was a whisper, simultaneously horrified and amazed.

  He nodded. “Yeah. It’s me. Been a long time, Chelle.”

  Everyone was staring at them. Rachel couldn’t get her voice to function, but escape was screaming through her mind. She yanked away and ran out the door, passing too close to the tussling bears and catching claws across one arm. The pain was intense enough to bring tears to her eyes but not to stop her.

  She felt, rather than heard, someone chasing her. Glancing back, she saw both bears loping after her. They didn’t look like they were playing anymore. She ran straight out of town, ran until her legs felt like butter, until she knew she couldn’t last much longer. Her mind finally loosened up and something occurred to her. These were alpha Sazi, not rogues. There are brains in those furred heads. They damned well know better than to chase birds.

  She darted into the brush as she rounded a bend. They skidded to a stop on the road, looking for her. Stepping back out onto the pavement, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Stop it! I’m not food!”

  Both bears reared back, stunned. Even if they didn’t understand English, they should understand pissed off by her scent. Taking advantage of their disorientation, Rachel jogged into the woods and put some distance between herself and the road before sitting down next to a tree to catch her breath. She was in shape, but Jeez!

  She heard the bears moving off, heading back toward town. Good. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to get her heart to stop pounding. The soothing scent of pine needles and warm wood decay made her feel safe, like inside a hollow tree. Moments later, she heard soft footsteps.

  “Rachel?” The voice was soft, kind and, most important, both female and familiar. Claire—someone who had seen Rachel at her worst and her best. “You’re bleeding pretty bad, hon. We need to get something on those wounds.”

  Rachel looked at her injured arm. Her adrenaline was so high, she was only beginning to really feel the pain, but the gashes were ragged and ugly. Looking at it made it hurt worse; her arm began to throb. Blood was dripping onto the leaves in a nearly steady stream. Claire tore off one of the sleeves of her T-shirt and started sopping up the blood. The throbbing turned to stinging and then pain enough to make Rachel utter the kinds of swears that would have gotten her mouth washed out as a child.

  “What happened back there?” her friend finally asked. “I got there just in time to see a really good-looking guy start to chase you and the bears. Amber made him stop, so I came after you instead.”

  Rachel blew out a breath and shook her head. “Believe it or not, I grew up with that guy, back in Detroit, before I was kidnapped. I didn’t recognize him until just then.”

  Claire’s eyes went wide. “That’s great!” Rachel glared at her. “I mean … isn’t it?”

  Rachel shook her head again, wincing as the movement jiggled her wounded arm.“No. It isn’t. He knows everyone, Claire. Everyone I grew up with, my mom and dad—the whole extended family, people at church. He’ll tell them where I am … what I am.”

  The Texas red wolf shifter sat back on her heels. The front of her pants were covered with mud, but one of the nice things about Claire was that she didn’t care if she was messy. “Ohhh.” She let out a sad chuckle. “You and me, we’re both attack victims. We can’t ever go back. Our families and friends—they’d never understand. Those damned snakes.” Rachel felt her chin quivering. She didn’t dare try to talk, or she’d start bawling.

  Claire reached out in solidarity, and Rachel took her hand, squeezing tight as she blinked back tears. “Tell me what you need,” Claire said.

  “Same thing I’ve always needed. To leave. Start over somewhere else.” But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she was doomed. “Fuck. Now I can’t even do that. Ahmad said I can’t leave, and if I tried, Dalvin would track me down. He’s always been a bloodhound, even when we were kids. I have no idea how he got turned, but he’s with Wolven a
nd he’s always been really close to my family.”

  Claire’s shoulders dropped as she realized what that meant. “So, even if he lets you go, he’ll drop a hint without meaning to, and they’ll start looking too.” She closed her eyes and squeezed Rachel’s hand tighter. “I’m so sorry.”

  A new voice contradicted her. “No. You must trust your femily. Femily is everything.”

  Rachel and Claire looked up simultaneously. A young woman was standing in the shadows of the nearby trees. She was a stranger to Rachel.

  “You’re Anica, right?” Claire said a little stiffly. “From the Serbian sloth? I’m sorry, but this is a private conversation.” She pointed back the way they’d come. “If you’re lost, the town is that way.”

  “I am not lost. I never am lost,” Anica said, stepping into the light. Her large eyes seemed too big for her pale-skinned face—like one of those creepy photos of little kids—and her black hair had been tousled by the wind. “I am sent to find you. The mediator has arrived and has called a meeting. All Sazi are to come home.”

  Claire let out a slow breath. “Okay. You head back and we’ll follow in a few minutes.”

  The other woman nodded and turned away, then shook her head. “No, I think they be angry if I come back alone. You come now? Please?”

  Anica was surprisingly small—Rachel had assumed that all the bears would be large and muscular, like the two she’d seen outside the police station—and her pleasant manner was a nice contrast to that witch, Larissa. Tell me I smell like a servant, will she? Make that “witch” with a “b.” But if the Council had asked her to find them …

  Rachel let go of Claire’s hand and used the Wolven agent’s shoulder as a brace to get back to her feet. “We might as well go now. If we don’t, they’ll send more people after us.”

  With a sigh, Claire stood easily. “I suppose you’re right.”

  The three women started toward Luna Lake, Anica following fairly close behind Claire and Rachel. Though she wasn’t quite guarding or herding them, it seemed clear she’d been given explicit instructions to ensure their return.

  “I am sorry I … what is word, interrupt your talk.”

  Rachel shrugged, saying, “It’s okay. But you don’t know where I’m coming from, so please don’t judge me.”

  The other woman sighed. “But I do. Not … I say it bad, but I know, because I am like you. I was human once.”

  Rachel stumbled to a stop and turned to look at the Serbian woman. “Wait. Maybe you don’t understand what we mean by attack victim. Your whole family is Sazi. Ours aren’t. They’re still human. They don’t know what happened to us and we can’t tell them. They don’t know shifters exist.”

  Anica nodded vigorously. “I do know. I am very like you. I was taken by bad men who are viper snakes, chained in cage, nearly killed by bears. I know!”

  Whoa. “Were you taken here in America, or were there other places in the world where kids were taken and turned?”

  Anica’s arms crossed across her chest and her brow lowered angrily. “Many more places in world. Not just here. Many more. Many children.”

  No shit! She’d never heard that before. It made sense, but nobody had ever said a word about other kidnap locations.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rachel said automatically, and Claire nodded. “At least you got turned into the same kind of animal as your family. That’s something.”

  Anica let out a burst of laughter. “After! You don’t see, even now. My femily came after. Is why I tell you to trust your femily. If you let them, they will join you, help you. Femilies are stronger than one little bear.”

  “Wait,” Claire said, holding up one hand. “You’re telling us the snakes took you and turned you into a bear, and that you went home to your human family and they agreed to become Sazi? So what, they just let you attack them and turn them too?”

  Anica grinned. “Yes! Now you understand. Our sloth is strong because our femily is strong. Is why we must win the talks. Our femily will grow and we will need land to hunt.”

  The shock of what Rachel was hearing was so great that she couldn’t completely wrap her head around it. She looked at Claire, whose mouth also was hanging open, whose eyes were as wide as Rachel’s own. She couldn’t even begin to think of what to say in response, so she kept walking, her thoughts racing. Claire and Anica were silent as well.

  How was Anica still alive? She attacked her family and turned them! It’s like the number one rule of the Sazi. A death sentence crime.

  Anica led them to the Community Center. The doors were open and the meeting had already started. A woman was calling out names, none of them familiar. Alek, holding the door open, noticed the blood-soaked, makeshift bandage around Rachel’s arm, and winced.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She shrugged, causing a fresh burst of pain in her biceps.

  “Been better, but I’ll live.”

  “If you can hold out until the end of the meeting, Amber can probably take care of it. She’s an amazing healer. If you can’t wait, I’ll go in and find Marilyn.”

  Claire chimed in. “It’s pretty bad, Alek. Claw rips that will probably need stitches. I know the meeting is important, but if it it’s going to last more than a half hour or so, we should probably interrupt.”

  He nodded. Pointing to the far side of the room, he said, “Rachel, Bitty saved you a seat. Claude’s there too, and he can probably do some minor healing, enough to get you through the meeting. If you start to feel even a little woozy, let Bitty know and we’ll get Amber.

  “Anica, please join your sloth on stage. Claire, you’re here with me.” As Claire stepped to one side and the other two women entered the building, Alek called to the woman at the podium, someone else Rachel had never seen before. “That’s everyone. All residents accounted for, Miss Sutton.”

  Everyone in the room seemed to be watching Rachel and Anika make their way to their assigned spaces. Rachel slunk to the empty seat beside Bitty, trying not to make more of a spectacle of herself than she already was. Almost involuntarily, she scanned the crowd until she spotted Dalvin, guarding the family opposite Anica’s on the stage.

  The moment she sat, Claude Kragan, Bitty’s brother and the Second in Rachel’s parliament, frowned, his sharp, intelligent gaze focused on the bloody wrapping on her arm. He started running his clawlike, age-spotted hands over the injured area. Warmth penetrated the sharp pain, which soon subsided enough that her head was no longer pounding; it felt sort of like the moment aspirin kicked in.

  Bitty, a snowy owl shifter, smiled at Claude and patted Rachel’s knee, letting her know she knew everything. That was the thing Rachel loved most about her new parliament. Because of their psychic connection, they knew when another owl was upset but didn’t intrude—and whenever Rachel was ready to talk, Bitty would be happy to listen.

  The woman on the stage took a sip of water and tapped her finger on the microphone, drawing everyone’s attention. The vivid pink, fitted dress suit she was wearing worked well with her chestnut hair, which was held in a loose bun at the back of her neck. Rachel wondered if she was a little too young to be in charge—she looked like she was maybe in her late twenties—but she definitely had an air of authority.

  “Okay, our stragglers have arrived. Since we were only a few minutes in, I’ll start over for their benefit and I thank everyone for their patience. My name is Elizabeth Sutton-Kendall, but you can call me Liz or Miss Sutton.”

  Liz. That was a nice name. Long ago, Rachel had had a babysitter named Liz and she had had that same sort of calm, sincere voice. There were so many scents in the room that Rachel didn’t have a clue what kind of animal this Liz was, but she radiated energy that felt like Council magic, though without the sting.

  “Those of you over the century mark have likely have heard of my grandfather, Nigel Sutton. I’ve spent the past ten years at his side, learning the craft of Sazi mediation. Those who have already worked with me”—she nodded at the doctor, Ambe
r, and Dalvin—“can tell you that I’m fair but tough, and I will not brook any sabotage.” Her voice dropped an octave and took on a dark edge. “Those who attempt it will die. No appeals.”

  “A-yup,” muttered Claude Kragan with a nearly silent chuckle. “She’s Nigel’s get, all right.” He reached out and touched Rachel’s arm again and the pain lessened a little more. He’d noticed the throbbing was distracting her from the speech. She really did like the old hoot owl.

  Bitty leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Nigel was one of the greatest negotiators of all the Sazi. I hope she’s as good.”

  “Without going into specifics,” Liz continued, “I can tell you that this is basically a territory dispute. In Europe, border disputes among the human governments of the continent’s tightly packed small countries can drastically impact Sazi hunting grounds. Such is the problem here. The Bosnian/Serbian war twenty years ago changed the division of territory between these two sloths.”

  Rachel furrowed her brow. Twenty years? How was that possible, when Anica said her sloth had existed since only she was turned? The bear didn’t seem much older than Rachel or Claire.

  This random thought made Bitty cock her head questioningly. Rachel shook her head, dismissing the subject. There was no use speculating until she’d heard everything the speakers had to say. Bitty had the tact to not push farther into her mind and instead tapped Rachel’s hand, their signal that they would talk later.

  “Bears have the reputation”—Liz paused and met the gaze of each of the older men in the sloths—“of being unreasonable, hardheaded, and quick to anger.”

  With her pain fading into the background, Rachel was able to take in the arrangements on the stage in more detail. The bear sloths, made up of men and women of varying ages, were arranged on opposite sides of Liz Sutton. The two alpha males were easy to spot—they were older, sat bolt upright, and were frowning at each other. Anica and the bear bitch Larissa stood behind them, whispering to them quietly and unobtrusively. Rachel presumed they were translators.