Bad, Dad, and Dangerous

by Rhys Ford

  “Yeah, five would be great.” The sleep wasn’t shaking off, but Levi didn’t think that mattered. “Just tell me he’s okay. And I don’t owe you guys my left kidney for something he’s done.”

  “He’s fine, sir, and no, so far the camp’s how it was before Declan arrived. I’m sure this year will be without incident. He’s grown so much.” Her perkiness went up, and not for the first time in his life when faced with a red-cheeked, bright-eyed supernatural, he wondered if squirrel shifters were actually a thing. “He just insists on speaking with you, and we thought it best to agree, since he’s not normally anxious.”

  Five minutes gave Levi enough time to hit the bathroom, brush his teeth, make a steaming cup of Vinacafe coffee, then boot up his laptop to wait for Declan’s call. He’d just gotten his first sip when Declan rang in.

  “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?” Levi toasted his son with his mug. “Long night. Just getting up, so if I sound rough, it’s ’cause I haven’t woken up yet. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  “Hey, Dad.” The boy had only been gone a couple of days, but the expression on his face was one of a madman caught stuffing a dormouse into a teapot. “I’m… don’t laugh, okay? ’Cause I need some help.”

  “Why would I laugh? What’s going on?” There was nothing like the worry of a kid falling into trouble they couldn’t get out of, and Levi’s guts burbled up as much sour as Stacy chirping was sweet. Leaning forward, he set his coffee cup down and gave his kid every bit of attention he had. “Deck, you know you can tell me anything. What happened? Do you need to come home? Do I need to go up there and rip someone’s head off?”

  “Hold on.” Declan shuddered, his luminous eyes growing unfocused as he stepped back from the screen. Shedding his clothes, Declan sighed. “It’s better if I show you.”

  Declan’s shift was still rough around the edges—a lengthy stretch of bones adjusting from rapid growth and changing hormones. Levi’s shoulder blades ached in memory of his puberty changes, the rush of blood to places he didn’t need it, and the instinctive urges to embrace his wolf form when he saw someone attractive. Nothing said uncontrolled teenager like lust and hunger, and it was hell on shifter adolescence. Trying to be comfortable in two skins was never easy, and having both forms growing at the same time was frequently miserable.

  “You having problems shifting?” Levi rubbed at the back of his neck, a problematic spot for him when he’d been Declan’s age. He’d grown quickly, too fast for his spine to adjust to, and bringing his head up hurt for an entire summer until the rest of him finally caught up. “Does something hurt? And not like…. Holy fucking shit. Deck, what happened?”

  Their family line ran to black wolves, sometimes tipped with sable or cream, but the majority were a rich midnight ebony. There were some outliers and even a cousin who shifted to pure silver, much to the disgust of his father. But their bloodline was an old, fierce warrior stock with muscular wolf forms and strong aggressive stances. Declan pulled the Keller Black, glossy-coated even in his young-pup form, and at times he could slip into the shadows without being seen so he could pounce on his relatives as they went by.

  The fluffy jet-black canid with its pom-pom cut and rounded ears looked nothing like his son except for his size. Even his tail had been shaped, trimmed up tight around the base to a pouf at the end, its feathery swoop lying softly against Declan’s flank, exactly like their great-aunt Myrtle’s Pomeranian looked after coming home from the groomer.

  All that was missing was a rhinestone collar and a pair of pink bows tied jauntily in the hair on either side of his ears.

  Levi bit at his cheek, tasting blood, but he was able to choke down the laughter boiling up from his belly. Schooling his face into the most serious expression he could muster, Levi nodded, not trusting himself to say anything while Declan shifted back. His son grabbed at his discarded clothes as soon as he had skin, pulling on his jeans in a jumping hop toward the office chair he’d been sitting in.

  The time it took Declan to reabsorb his wolf gave Levi a moment to compose himself, but there definitely was a high-pitched squeak to his voice when Levi finally asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Naomi happened to me,” Declan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “She’s cute, and Dad, she smells like strawberry cheesecake—”

  “God help you, a young woman that smells like dessert,” Levi drawled, assuming his somber face when his son peeked out at him from between his fingers. “Sorry. Go on. Tell me how Naomi Strawberry Cheesecake held you down and took electric clippers to you until you looked like Aunt Myrtle’s overgrown hamster?”

  “It seemed like… the girls in the next cabin were screaming last night about a possum getting into their place, so I went over to help. It was just a small baby one, and I shooed it out.” Another soft moan escaped Declan, muffled by his hands. “We got to talking—”

  “You and Naomi or you and all of the girls?” Levi reached for his coffee again, needing a hit of caffeine to listen to the rest of his son’s story. “Because—”

  “Just talking. About school and stuff. What it’s like being a shifter or Other around humans.” Declan dropped his hands and glared at his father in mild offense. “It wasn’t anything.”

  “So tell me how you went from nothing happening to… that,” Levi said, cocking his head. “Because the dots aren’t connecting for me, kid.”

  “Naomi and her sister are puma, and they were curious if the shift was the same. We were mostly talking about that kind of stuff. So I kind of showed them.”

  “You’ve got to get naked to show them, Deck.” Levi sat forward, putting his cup down on the table. “Where the hell were the camp people?”

  “This was before lights-out, and I was wearing basketball shorts,” he protested. “Wasn’t naked. I shifted and then kicked them off. I figured I’d turn back in the bathroom and get dressed again. Nothing—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Nothing happened.” He rolled his eyes. “I love you, kiddo, but I’m not liking this nothing you’re getting up to over there.”

  “Have you seen me? You think I like it?” Declan snorted. “So I shifted, and they were… none of the four girls are wolf so….”

  “You were playing big dog on campus.”

  “Like you haven’t?” Declan lifted one eyebrow, something he’d learned from every Keller male he’d ever known. Levi returned the look, rumbling a soft throaty growl at his son. “I swear, I wasn’t talking them up like that, Dad. Remember? I’ve got Michelle.”

  “Right. Michelle,” Levi murmured.

  “Naomi’s mom’s a groomer—”

  “Ah, here we go.”

  “Dad, can you just let me get this out?” Declan sighed heavily. “And be serious. This is some hard-core crap for me. Naomi wondered how I’d look if I were trimmed up a bit, and the next thing I know, I’m standing there while she’s clipping away at me with some really freaking sharp scissors. I figured I’d let her because they—the girls—were into it, and that the next time I shifted, I’d just be back to normal. But… did you see me? I mean, Dad. I’ve got a howl coming up in a couple of days. I can’t show up looking like this. I mean, shit. Bad enough I’m one of the youngest here. You’ve got to do something.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t work that way, Deck,” Levi interrupted his son. “It’s like everything else. Scars, haircuts, the common cold. All of that. You’ve got to wait it out. Nothing I can do about it. Same thing happened to me with bleach, hair dye, and a pair of hot jaguar twins when I was sixteen. Took the whole summer to grow that out. Your grandpa used to try to get me to shift so everyone could see it, ’cause he thought I looked like I’d been dipped in polka-dot tie-dye.”

  “You’re serious? About the waiting, not the tie-dye. I can see Grandpa doing that.” Flopping his head down on the desk, Declan mumbled, “What am I going to do?”

  “I’d say you should go to the howl, shift, and have fun, but that’s up to you,” Levi said softly, resting his elbows o
n his thighs and waiting for his son to look up at him. When he got a peek of Declan’s mournful gaze, he continued, “Look, kid, we all do stupid things in our lives. Some we can spin into something awesome when we tell the story later, and some we just have to suck up and buy our friends a drink when they bring it up so we can laugh together. It’s up to you on how you’re going to deal with this. So you fell for a pretty girl with a pair of scissors.

  “I’m more concerned about you being in that cabin with four girls late at night, but that’s on me. That’s society shit I’m carrying, because we’re always told to sexualize relationships. I know it, and it’s hard, but I’m trying.” He knew he wasn’t awake enough to do hard-core parenting, and fighting against his instinct to tear apart the camp counselors wasn’t going to do Declan any good. “I trust you when you say it was just talking. If it were me at your age in a cabin with four guys or four girls—or a mix—your grandpa would have had to trust me to keep my brain on right, so I’ve got no room to talk. Still, if you take anything out of this, it’s that you can’t just drop trou when a pretty girl wants to see how sleekit you are.”

  “Suppose the guys laugh?” His son sat up, worry souring his handsome features. “Or the girls? Dad… I just thought it would go back to how it was once I shifted.”

  “Do you want to go to the howl?”

  “Yeah.” Declan shrugged. “It’s always just kind of nice to hang out as… who we are without worrying about that kind of shit.”

  “So, tell a couple of friends Naomi gave you a haircut and seed the field before you go. Make it a thing,” Levi suggested with a grin. “Dude, rock the lemon you were given. Own it. Be fearless. Be cute. I mean, you’re freaking adorable, and I might be too old to sport the whole manga-puppy look, but you aren’t. Go have fun, kiddo, and don’t let anyone else tell you that you’re anything but fantastic. Okay?”

  “Okay,” his son murmured, giving Levi a small smile. “Were you telling me the truth about the spots… well, the colors? Or were you pulling my leg to make me feel better.”

  “Oh, so much the truth,” he laughed, shaking his head. “When you get back, I’ll show you the pictures. And be safe and have a good time. But kid, do me a favor, and maybe you should just go back to thinking about blowing things up again. One more pass with those clippers and I’m going to have to explain to your grandmother why she’s got a Xoloitzcuintli for a grandson.”

  “Dude, not cool. Do not tell Grandma I did this.” The look of horror on Declan’s face was comical—nearly as funny as when he discovered eggs came out of chickens’ butts, or so his five-year-old brain thought at the time. “Dad, promise me—”

  “Kid, the last thing I’m going to do is tell anyone. Okay, I might have to tell your uncle Kawika, but come on, you know he’ll be cool about it.” Levi crossed his heart with his finger. “Promise. This is yours to tell if you want to share it. Just remember, cat’s already out of the bag. Literally. You’ve got four girls who already know you’re sporting a puffball haircut, and word like that’s going to spread like wildfire. Do yourself a favor and own it before someone owns you with it.”

  “You really think so?” His son shook his head. “I dunno about that, Dad. Did you take a really good look at me? I mean, I look like I’m on Fangster hoping to be someone’s purse dog.”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Levi leaned back, giving his son a stern look. “Now tell me how the hell you know about Fangster.”

  “ZANETTI, I know what you’re saying, but I don’t have the guys to put on that place right now,” Yang admitted, stirring a lump of sugar into his pungent black tea. “That’s the problem with you all clearing out all of those assholes before me. Brass looks over at my guys and tells me to focus on drugs and trafficking. Biker stuff is way down the list of priorities for the city right now. Bigger fish to sushi, my friend.”

  Joe sat on the edge of Yang’s desk, using the relatively clean corner to park his hip against. Like most inspectors, Yang’s workspace was piled high with paper, despite having most communication and reports filed through the department’s computer system. There was something about staring at a stack of evidence and making notes that appeased the inquisitive mind, and Yang was no exception.

  Of course, Joe also wasn’t sure what the top of his own desk looked like most of the time, and suspected the cop across of him had an egg salad sandwich buried under a stack of requisition slips from two years ago.

  “Not like I have something solid about anything going down over there,” he confessed to Yang. His main informant on the biker presence at the pub was an older Italian woman who used to change his diapers and his random spotting of a single club member a few days ago. “Supposedly something’s happening Friday, but I don’t know what. Looked back at any activity at the property for the past five years, and it’s really clean. Suspiciously clean.”

  “You think someone’s wiping off arrests to cover something?” Yang looked up from his nearly ritualistic squeezing of his tea bag against the back of a spoon and paused in midtwist. “How clean is clean?”

  “A couple of drunk-and-disorderlies called in by the pub, but nothing else. Kind of strange for a bar in that area. Most other places average two of those calls a week.” He scrolled through the reports he’d pulled up earlier that day. “There’s four other bars within a ten-block radius from this place, and they rack up a hell of a lot more police activity than this one does. So either the clientele here is very well behaved or something’s going on over there.”

  “Well, from what you told me, it is someplace your granny hangs out,” the sergeant shot back, returning to his tea bag. “Did you run the owner?”

  “Yeah, one Levi Keller. He’s as clean as a whistle on paper too. Pays his taxes. Sends his kid to school. Even the kid’s record is sparkling clean. Keller does a small side business of restoring motorcycles and runs food drives through his pub.” Joe frowned. “Once again, too clean. Nana says he’s a good guy, but then we’re talking about a woman who grew up in Jersey. Her idea of a good guy is someone who keeps his feuds to the person he’s mad at and doesn’t go after the guy’s family.”

  “What’d the captain tell you?”

  “That I should keep my eye on it and not bug you for a guy to watch the place, because you’re stretched thin as it is. Something about drugs and trafficking.” Joe chuckled at Yang’s snorting laugh. “I’m probably just being paranoid. So what if one biker comes back to the city? Probably just visiting someone he knew.”

  “And the other guy? The Los Lobos one? That’s an unknown to me. Another MC, huh?” The other cop picked up the printout Joe left on his desk and examined the photo taken of the biker’s back patch. “Notice them and the Vikings are from the same locale? Or at least that’s what their lower rocker says. Think maybe they’re going to join up together?”

  “Yeah, I noticed that. Haven’t ever heard of Los Lobos either, so that makes me wonder if there’s new activity.” Pondering the two clubs showing up at the same pub within a few days of each other puzzled Joe. Most gangs had firm alliances, but the Vikings were always aloof, apart from most other groups, and they’d gotten no hits at all on Los Lobos. “It’s weird. I don’t like weird in our city.”

  “You do know you live in San Francisco, right?” Yang peered at him over the piece of paper. “Pretty sure we invented weird. But yeah, something’s up. I just wish I could spare someone. Maybe next week, but not now.”

  “I’m thinking of swinging by tonight to see if anything’s happening there. Friday’s only a few days away, and maybe I can keep an eye out in the meantime. If the place is full of Vikings, I’ll see if I recognize anyone and get back to you.” Joe floated his idea across to Yang. “Told the captain I was thinking about it, and he said it wouldn’t be a bad idea but to make sure I had some backup, at least in the area, but I don’t think I’ll need it.”

  “Other than your grandmother,” Yang teased, handing Joe back the photo. “For backup, I mean.”

 
“Hey, you haven’t met the woman,” he retorted, gathering up his papers. “I’ll take her over the wall with me any day. If they don’t pass out from her garlic bread, they die waiting to get a word in edgewise.”

  Four

  LEVI SENSED the shift in St. Con’s the moment he walked through the door.

  The air changed, tingling with something bordering on excitement and a little bit of fear. In a pub full of predators and wild cards, something—someone—caught their collective interest, and for a brief moment, every person in the place held their breath.

  Working the bar on a Wednesday night in normal pubs would be an exercise in finding something to pass the time. St. Con’s was a different story. Mass getting out at the nearby Catholic church kicked in an eight o’clock rush, and every second Wednesday brought in a gathering of two lifelong rival hedge-witch families whose elders kept their feud up with rounds of darts and beers. Between the Catholics, the various shifters, a few orcs struggling to pass as human, and two handfuls of witches, Levi and Kawika were kept hopping while the kitchen fought against a wave of food tickets and special requests.

  So the lull in the constant hum around him brought Levi’s head up from a pair of mojitos, and his heart dropped down to his knees.

  He never went for the strong, silent type, and sure as hell not the rough-around-the-edges cop type either, because there was no mistaking this guy for anything other than a bleeds-blue cop. Levi’s tastes ran to pretty younger men with vacant smiles and no ambition to be in a relationship.

  But then, so did his taste in women.

  He wasn’t looking for anything other than a good time he could have in between raising his kid and running his pub while riding herd as a Peacekeeper for supernatural squabbles. Levi couldn’t remember the last time he had a moment to spare for anything other than a quick flirt, much less a round of hot sex, but the guy walking into his place made him want to kick everyone out, clear off a table, wrestle the lean, tanned cop down onto the flat surface, and dig his teeth into him.