Illicit

by Cathy Clamp

  Both alpha males chuckled at the mediator’s comment, but the audience was not amused; people were murmuring to each other. Noticing that, one of the men whispered something to his translator, Anica, who nodded and spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

  “I would like to think that Sazi consist not only of their animal half, but the human half as well. And humans can negotiate, can be reasonable and thoughtful, can step above their anger for the good of their people.”

  “With that,” said Liz, “let me introduce the humans on stage with me today. To my left is the Kasun family, from the Bosnian side of the border. Mustafa Kasun is the head of the family; next to him is his wife, Iva.” The Kasuns looked like they’d stepped off the red carpet at some exotic European resort. Iva’s high-heeled, ivory-colored suede boots matched her furred hat and jacket. The outfit was lovely but wouldn’t withstand a single snowstorm and would probably be ruined the moment she stepped in damp grass. She was a tall woman, taller than her husband when seated. Mustafa Kasun was wide and stout with thick black hair and piercing eyes. His suit was a shiny serge fabric that even a snowflake would stain. Based on nothing more than their clothing, Rachel immediately distrusted them, though she chastised herself for making assumptions.

  “Their twins, Suljo and Zara, are next to them. Larissa Grebo, standing behind the alphas, is a family friend and will be acting as translator for the family.”

  Well, see there? Anyone who is friends with the “servant” bitch … Bitty turned her head and let out a little snort.

  Suljo was the only Kasun who was watching the audience instead of the rival sloth, his eyes moving from face to face with apparent interest. He took after his mother, tall and slender, while his sister, Zara, had the same broad face as her father. She looked bored.

  “None of the Kasuns speak English,” Liz added. “If they approach you to ask questions, or if you need to speak to them, please find one of the Council members”—she waved toward the chairs edging the stage on right and left—“or either of the Wolven agents presently guarding the doors, to find a translator.”

  “To my right is the Petrovic family from Serbia. Zarko Petrovic is head of the family, and his wife, Draga, is next to him.” Zarko and Draga were both medium height and weight and looked like blue-collar workers, though both were neatly, if not elegantly, dressed. Draga didn’t wear much makeup. To Rachel, she seemed sure of herself, and her expression indicated intelligence, possibly more than her husband, whose gaze lacked Draga’s intensity.

  “With them are their two eldest sons, Bojan and Samit, as well as a younger daughter, Anica.”

  Bojan was a looker. He had a soft face, wide eyes like Anica, long fingers, and a curl of hair on his forehead that probably made girls swoon. They had their mother’s features, while Samit resembled his father—wide face, smaller eyes, and a permanent frown. Did she only imagine that Samit was staring at her, the corner of his mouth curled in a satisfied smile? Boy, she sure hoped it was her imagination. It wasn’t a very friendly look.

  “Again,” Liz went on, “most of the family does not speak English. Anica and Bojan can translate.”

  Liz took another sip of water. Somehow her movement and the pause in the flow of speech had a calming effect, which Rachel found interesting. Most people would cause tension by going slow; Liz managed to make it seem natural. Very cool.

  “I do not speak either language, but am fortunate that our esteemed Council liaison, Rabi Kuric, does. He will translate for me.” She inclined her head to the tiger councilman, who was looking very stoic in his folding chair at one side of the stage—a total change from the smiling cutup in the police station. He gave a brief nod in reply.

  The mediator turned her back to the audience to address the sloths directly. “Please know that he will translate everything, even private conversations. He is a ghost shifter. You will never know when he is listening, so watch your tongues. Again, I will not tolerate any attempts at sabotage. So long as everyone acts in good faith, we’ll get through this with everyone alive and satisfied with the result.” Larissa and Anica started whispering frantically in their Alphas’ ears, expressions of alarm on their faces.

  The Kasun family Alpha raised his hand, and Liz motioned to him. He spoke harshly, in a language that seemed to have too many letters in each word. Rabi frowned but didn’t respond, waiting for the translation. Larissa blushed and hesitated. The Kasun Alpha poked her with a beefy finger and she finally spoke.

  “My Alpha wishes to ask the esteemed negotiator how the Sazi Council dares to presume they may listen to personal conversations between a man and his wife, or a father and his children. He refuses this requirement.”

  Bet that won’t go over well.

  Rabi Kuric stood and pulled down on his jacket in a way that reminded Rachel of Captain Picard on Star Trek: The Next Generation. Then he disappeared, just like he had in the police station. Gasps went up around the room. He reappeared behind the Kasun Alpha, holding a long, curved knife to the bear’s throat. The room went utterly silent, but the scents of fear, amazement, and adrenaline were so strong that about half of the audience started sneezing. A stinging wash of power swept out from the stage, freezing the delegates in place and making Rachel’s skin try to crawl off her bones again. She flinched and scratched at her itchy neck as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention.

  Kuric pulled back the bear’s head by his hair, exposing his bare throat. Despite his West Coast accent, Kuric’s words were venomous. “You smiled before your translator finished speaking, Alpha, and you commented on something that was not translated. You understand English. Now you seek to make demands on the gift of negotiation that is offered by the Council?”

  A hissing sound pulled Rachel’s attention away from the pair. Liz Sutton-Kendall had shifted forms. She was a badger, and at least the size of a Great Dane, or maybe a small pony. Long claws clicked on the polished wood of the stage and she hissed again, revealing a row of sharp teeth.

  Rabi spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. “The terms of the negotiations are not subject to your consent or approval. Perhaps I should turn you over to Miss Sutton’s tender mercies right now. Negotiation is not the only skill she learned from her legendary grandfather. It would be far simpler and less time-consuming to dispose of your whole family and let the Petrovics take the land.”

  The whites of the eyes of the bears said everything. The tiger shifter disappeared. His magic released the delegates so abruptly that they nearly fell out of their chairs. Rachel’s skin stopped itching and she noticed that her arm hurt even less. Cool. Nothing like random magic for healing.

  Kasun rubbed at his throat, probably making sure no blood had been drawn. Back in human form, Liz adjusted the pink suit jacket she must have hurriedly put back on and stepped again to the microphone. “Let me repeat, we will not tolerate sabotage of any kind. Deception is sabotage. Councilman Kuric just gave the only warning you will get. Does everyone understand the rules?”

  Interesting. Though their translators remained silent, the alphas nodded. Both of the bastards could understand English!

  Liz noticed and her eyes narrowed just a bit. “Good.” Her voice then took on a sarcastic edge. “And how handy that translators aren’t required anymore. It makes things so much easier. Ladies, could you please sit down?” Dalvin and Tamir placed an additional chair on either side of the podium and the young women sat.

  “Next on the agenda is housing. Since there are no Sazi-owned motels nearby and an arctic front is headed this way, we are asking for volunteers to house the two sloths and our Wolven and Council partners.”

  She paused, but no hands were raised. A pinecone could fall in the forest and everyone would have heard it.

  Fred, the postmaster, called out, “They can stay at the mayor’s and police chief’s houses. They’re empty.”

  Rachel heard a few comments, like “good idea” and “perfect,” from the townspeople, but Liz sho
ok her head.

  “Unfortunately, that isn’t possible. Both homes are still considered crime scenes.” Her tone lightened as she continued, “Of course, you will be compensated, since the Council had intended to spend money on room rental. How about five thousand dollars for each resident who houses a visitor? That’s pretty good money for a week of your time.”

  Five thousand dollars! With that kind of nest egg, Rachel would be set for months in Spokane. Okay, that would make it worth it to stay for an extra week, as long as she didn’t get paired with Larissa. She raised her hand, as did nearly a dozen other people in the Community Center. Good ol’ cash money. Greasing the wheels since God was a baby.

  “Those of you who have volunteered, please stay after the meeting. Last, we need some people who can cook for large groups.”

  At the door, Claire raised her hand, and Liz tipped her head in acknowledgment. One of the younger Petrovic males said, in accented English, “I am a trained chef. I would offer my skills.”

  Mustafa Kasun stood in a rush, speaking first in his native language before switching to barely understandable English, “Ne! Neću dopustit! I will not allow this!” He pointed a thick finger toward the other sloth. “They have reason to harm us. He could poison us. He likely was the one who drugged and killed the negotiator, Melo.”

  The Petrovics responded in outrage.

  “I would not!”

  “Your sloth are the killers!”

  “How dare you!”

  Rachel was not surprised that everyone was speaking English.

  Bear shifters jumped from their seats, shouting and spitting at their enemies.

  The negotiator raised her hands and her voice: “Everybody calm down!”

  Liz and other Council members threw out bursts of magic to hold the visitors in place, but the alphas could be surprised only once. They threw back their own magic, strong enough that they and their families were able to stand up and start across the stage at each other. The inhabitants of Luna Lake, crammed into the single room, were becoming agitated by the scents of aggression being blasted at them on the waves of powerful magic.

  Rachel was almost too distracted by her stinging skin to feel Bitty’s tap on her hand. But she dragged her attention to her Alpha.

  “Use your voice, dear,” Bitty said softly. “Tell them to stop.”

  Shaking her head, Rachel said, “This isn’t my fight and I can’t imagine they would listen to me, Aunt Bitty. I don’t think they’d appreciate me getting involved.”

  “We all do what we must, when we’re needed. Remember?”

  An exasperated sound burst out of Rachel’s throat. She hated it when Aunt Bitty used her mama’s words against her, pulled from her own memories.

  Nobody noticed when she stood up. She took a deep breath and let out a screech that rattled the walls.

  “Shut up!”

  Everyone—everyone—froze in place, hands over their ears. In the stillness, Rachel continued quietly: “Could everyone please stop fighting? It’s really painful to all of us who aren’t alphic.” She sat down, but then half stood and added, “Thank you.”

  The bears on the stage glared and growled, but those few moments had given the Council members the opportunity to burst through the bears’ magic. She couldn’t tell for sure whether the anger that roiled off the stage was directed at her or at the Council members, who magically forced the delegates back to their chairs.

  “Very nice, dear,” Bitty said, while a smattering of applause made Rachel’s face burn. She looked around to see who was clapping. Her foster parents, Asylin and John Williams, and their daughter Dani. Scott, of course, and S.Q., the falcon who ran the ice cream shop. Even after her family and friends sat down, someone was still applauding.

  Dalvin.

  He was smiling, with just one corner of his mouth curled up. Her mind flashed back to the park near the house where she grew up. The boy in her memory wore that same smile, mingling admiration with sarcasm. She used to punch him in the arm when he gave her that look.

  Liz cleared her throat noisily into the microphone. Dalvin stopped clapping and turned to the stage, as did the rest of the audience.

  “Not quite what I would have done,” the badger shifter said, “but effective. Thank you…”

  Rachel didn’t want to give her name, but that didn’t matter, not with her alpha right beside her. Bitty said, “Rachel. Rachel Washington. She’s got an amazing voice. Quite the songbird for an owl.”

  The cat councilman, Rabi Kuric, nodded and smiled. He was pretty cute when he smiled. “She is indeed.”

  Looking straight at Rachel, Liz said, “I’d like to see you after the meeting, please.” Then she addressed the room again. “Okay, that’s it for now. Treat the two families as though they are guests of your family, but don’t discuss the dispute or take sides. Let us do our jobs. We’ll do our best to stay out of your way. Thank you.”

  The sound of conversation rose in the hall as people began making for the door or just milling around.

  Bitty said, “Go talk to young Elizabeth, Rachel. I’ll see about having Amber fix that arm for you.”

  The townspeople who had offered to board the visitors seemed to be gathering around Tamir; Rachel spotted Scott and her adoptive dad in the group. “I need to check in over there,” she told Bitty, pointing. “Do you think the negotiator will mind if I get a roommate sorted out first? I could really use that money.”

  Getting to her feet, Bitty said, “I told you … I’m happy to give you money until you find work in Spokane. Even enough to live on until you finish college.”

  Her alpha’s offer was very tempting, but work—and what it meant—was important to Rachel. “I know, and I appreciate that. But I’m tired of being bought and paid for. I want to make it on my own.”

  The old woman sighed and shook her head, smiling. “You go see Miss Elizabeth. I’ll find you a housemate. Is there anyone you’d particularly like to have?”

  “The translator for the black bears, Anica, seemed nice enough. Weird, but nice.”

  Bitty nodded and walked toward Tamir while Rachel headed for the stage. When Miss Sutton spotted her, she immediately excused herself from a conversation and came over. The mediator offered her hand for a shake, then drew it back when she realized Rachel was wounded. If she noticed the scent of blood, she was tactful enough not to mention it. She smiled warmly and touched the owl shifter lightly on the shoulder of the uninjured arm.

  “That was very impressive … Rachel, is it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and thank you. I’m a singer, so I can project well.”

  “Project?” Liz seemed taken aback. “I see. You don’t realize what you just did.”

  Something more than just screaming loudly? “Um, I guess not.”

  Brow furrowed, Liz called, “Amber? Rabi? Could you join us?”

  The cat councilman nodded, then said something to the Wolven agents around him before following Amber. The agents spread out to surround the two bear sloths, keeping the groups separate and engaged in conversation. Nice divide and conquer!

  A minute later, the mediator, the two Council members, and Rachel left the Community Center through the back door. A couple of the black SUVs were parked nearby.

  “Amber, if you would be so kind?” Liz said.

  A sudden, overwhelming sensation of some kind made Rachel feel like her feathers were being sucked out from inside her. It was similar to what Ahmad had done, but more like a pulling sensation. She staggered but kept moving.

  “What’s happening? I feel like I can’t breathe.”

  Liz opened the back door of one of the vehicles. “It’ll be better once we’re inside.”

  The seat covering was butter-soft black leather, and polished wood panels decorated the armrests. The seats faced each other, like in a limousine. The weird sensation lessened, then passed, as Liz had promised, once Rachel was inside.

  “Wow. Nice car.”

  Amber scooted in beside her. “L
et’s get a look at that arm while we’re talking.”

  Rachel hissed in pain as the doctor began to unwrap Claire’s hasty bandaging job. Most of the blood had dried and the cloth was stuck to her skin.

  “Have you ever screeched like that before? I mean, to stop a fight?” Liz’s tone indicated that something important had happened, but Rachel had no idea what. The badger shifter’s hazel eyes were serious, but not in an angry way. There were no scents in the car, not even of their own animals. It was sort of creepy that Rachel could smell the leather seats and her own pain but nothing else.

  She thought about it. “Not like that, no. I mean, well … once. Back a few years ago, we had a rogue. One of the wolves went insane and attacked the Williams house. I was living there then, and I screamed when she broke down the barred steel front door. She stopped. Just stopped. Everyone said my screech had startled her long enough for the others to tackle her.

  “I’d told Aunt Bitty about that once, when I was the Omega. She liked us to chat while I worked. She isn’t really my aunt, you know, but she’s sort of an honorary one, and now she’s my parliament leader so—” She knew she was rambling, but the others didn’t seem to mind. She took a breath and finished: “Anyway, I guess she thought it might work here.”

  Liz shook her head. “Not startled. Paralyzed. Momentarily paralyzed. At least me.” Rachel felt air on her tongue, as her jaw dropped open and she gasped. She’d paralyzed everyone?

  “Paralyzed,” the tiger shifter confirmed.

  A tingling sensation in her arm caught Rachel’s attention. Amber’s hand was hovering over the rips in her flesh, and before her eyes, the muscle began to knit together. She could feel the nerves reconnecting—tiny bursts of pain created flashes of white light in her vision. It made her a little dizzy, but didn’t last long. “Whoa. That’s freaky.”

  Amber smiled. “You get used to it. But yeah, it’s freaky. As for your screech, it didn’t affect me the same way. I just felt a little stiff for a few seconds, but I’m also a healer. The symptoms were likely more acute in those without healing abilities.” She pulled her hand away from Rachel’s arm. “There you go. The wound was pretty bad, so you’ll still feel the nerves reconnecting for a few days and you might have some weakness in that arm for a week or more. But it should be as good as new soon.”