by Zoe Chant
Misty had been half-hoping that they might be grateful not to have to live with those violent assholes any longer, but of course they hadn’t been. The bonds of family were too strong.
Which she understood. But it would be so much better if more people prioritized justice.
“I can tell you from experience,” Ty said, “if all they’re running up against is discipline, or people trying to scare them into behaving, it’s not going to get any better. They need community, support. Something constructive to do with their time would help, too.”
Misty frowned. “They responded pretty well to you scaring them into behaving.”
Ty smiled a little. “Temporary measure. If I were working with them long-term, I’d be focusing on being a positive influence. Giving them something good to want, instead of something bad to not want.”
Misty tilted her head, thinking about that.
Her father’s school of law enforcement had been all about what people didn’t want. The sheriff didn’t want disorder, didn’t want pack-based loyalties, didn’t want feuds and violence. On the other hand, the locals didn’t want to get arrested, and sure didn’t want the law sticking its nose into their business. Overall, the previous Sheriff Dale had been able to balance both of those sides into a state of affairs that everyone could—grudgingly—live with.
Was there a better way, though?
***
Ty
Ty watched Misty considering his words. Here was another thing to admire about her—she was a tough, no-nonsense kind of sheriff, he could already tell. He could half-picture the father she talked so reverently about: a stern, humorless law enforcement officer, who wanted order and respect.
Misty had clearly learned those lessons well. But she wasn’t rigid about it. It was easy, sometimes, for police officers to think in black and white. In his years as a social worker, Ty had struggled with that—sometimes people he was trying to help would get in trouble with the law, and it could be hard to get a cop to see that there was more in play than criminal vs. law-abiding citizen.
Misty, though, wanted to make things better. Not just more disciplined, but better.
“Hm,” she said finally. “I don’t know what sort of good things I could come up for them to want to do. They definitely don’t like me very much after last month, so maybe I’m not even the right person to do it.”
“We can talk about it,” Ty suggested. “I’ve got a lot of experience helping kids who’d insist that they don’t need or want any help at all.”
She smiled at him. Her smile lit up the dim forest like it was noon; Ty felt almost dizzy whenever he saw it. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
“Meanwhile,” he said, “where were we?”
The smile took on a competitive edge. “I was about to pull ahead of you and win our race.”
“Oh, were you.” Ty tucked the kids’ firecrackers into his shirt, and concentrated as he shifted, hoping—yes, they came with him, disappearing with his clothes as he took on jaguar form.
Misty was shifting, too, and out of a sense of fair play, Ty waited until she was firmly on all fours before bolting into the woods again. She raced after him.
This was a much shorter run, because the edge of the forest was already almost in sight. It was just as much of a rush, though, running with Misty hot on his heels. He’d been almost flagging when they’d heard the firecrackers before, but now he’d had time to catch his breath, and his jaguar’s sprinting skill was in top form once again.
Still, Misty was hard on his heels, her hooves pounding on a tree stump as she bounded over it, landing just at his tail. Ty put on a hard burst of speed and leaped, landing on all fours smack in the middle of the tiny clearing where they’d started.
Misty skidded to a halt right next to him, and Ty wheeled to face her. Her deer form was delicate and gorgeous, with beautiful markings, fine and agile hooves, and lovely, enormous eyes. Ty drank in the sight of her as he caught his breath. He’d never known a deer shifter before—never even lived anywhere where he’d seen ordinary deer. Her grace was astonishing, even when she’d been galloping at top speed,
Slowly, she shivered, blurred, and became human again. Ty followed suit, never looking away.
“So,” she said. “What now?”
Ty remembered, suddenly, the conversation they’d been having at the top of the ridge, before their evening had been broken up by irresponsible teens. A solution to Misty’s loneliness. He grinned.
“Follow me,” Ty said, and led the way back out of the woods, into the parking lot, and over to his rental car.
He dug around inside until he found where he’d dropped his phone before they shifted, and thumbed it on. Sure enough, he had ten different texts from five different people, asking if he was ever coming back to the house, because everyone was waiting to hand out with him.
You can’t resist us forever, Ken had texted. We have beer.
Can I bring a friend? Ty texted the group thread.
You mean your sheriff? Nate texted back immediately. Sure.
Yes! Ken added, almost at the same time. Dying to see what she’s like when she’s not arresting fifteen violent criminal wolf shifters all at once.
Even given Ken’s general penchant for entertaining exaggeration, Ty had to take a moment to be impressed.
“...What?” Misty asked, catching his look.
“I’ve found your solution,” Ty said, mentally resolving to ask for the arrest story later. “Come with me back to where I’m staying.”
Then he realized how that sounded.
Misty’s mouth dropped open, and he had to backpedal.
“To meet my friends!” he added hastily. “That is—you know them already, but to meet them in a social setting, instead of at work.”
Well, that had been suitably awkward. But at least he’d hopefully dispelled the idea that he was inviting her back to his place for—
For something he wouldn’t mind doing at all, now that he thought about it.
Wouldn’t mind at all.
Until this moment, he’d mainly been caught up in admiration of Misty’s bravery and drive, her obvious intelligence, and that tantalizing sweetness she showed when she talked about her father or her desire for friends. He’d gotten caught up in the sparkling depths of her hazel eyes, and already started to memorize the set of her mouth when she felt determined.
But now he was noticing how curvy her body was, obvious even in the sensible khaki shirt and loose pants of the sheriff’s uniform. He wanted to see her without it, to strip off that shirt and those pants—what sort of underwear did she wear?
Focus. Now he was about to be really guilty of what he’d accidentally done, turning something that should be a nice, platonic social event into an opportunity for sexual innuendo.
Misty was thinking about it, her forehead wrinkling. “They’ve—invited me to things before,” she said slowly. “Or at least Pauline has. I think she’s grateful to me for helping them out with the wolves a couple of months ago. But I was just doing my job. Really, I’m grateful to her for giving me the opportunity to put them away.”
“Maybe she likes you,” Ty offered. “Maybe she wants to be friends.”
The face Misty made at that was so obviously disbelieving, Ty wasn’t sure if he was about to laugh or cry.
“It could happen,” he persisted. “You’re pretty likeable. I can tell that after only knowing you for...” He checked his phone. “Eight and a half hours.”
Had it really only been that long? He felt like he’d been getting to know Misty for days already.
“Most people don’t seem to like me very much,” Misty said. It sounded like the words hurt to get out, and Ty straightened, setting his phone down, coming forward a few steps.
“That doesn’t seem right,” he said gently.
Her mouth twisted, and Ty reached out, softly, to pull her forward. She went without resistance, and then he was cradling her against his chest.
Prot
ect her, his jaguar growled. No one hurts her!
Not while we’re around, Ty agreed.
“It doesn’t help that I mostly see people when I’m there to arrest them,” she said, muffled by his shirt.
“That does seem like it would get in the way of making friends,” Ty agreed. “There, see? All you have to do is hang out with some people in a non-arresting situation. How often do you do that?”
There was a moment of silence. Then Misty pulled her head back to look up at him. Her expression was rueful. “Sometimes I interview people as witnesses.”
Ty couldn’t help the snort of laughter.
She had a tiny smile growing on her face. “I talk to Betty every day. And my deputies.”
“At the station?”
“At the station,” she confirmed. “Or in the Jeep.” She wrinkled her nose; it was impossibly cute. “I guess you might be right. It’s maybe time to get out more.”
“Fortunately for you, opportunity has come knocking,” Ty said triumphantly. “Follow me to Nate and Ken’s house?”
“I know where the Davidson house is,” Misty said. “I arrested some people there once.”
Ty couldn’t help it: he started to laugh.
After a second, she joined in, shaking her head. “All right, all right. I guess I see the problem.”
“No worries,” Ty said, letting his arms drop from around her shoulders with some reluctance. “We’re fixing it.”
Misty lingered for a long moment before stepping back. “I suppose we are.”
***
Misty
Misty hadn’t really known what to expect. Who all was going to be at the Davidsons’ house? Were they genuinely welcoming her, or had they just agreed with Ty to make him happy (because who wouldn’t want to make Ty happy?).
And why was she so suddenly aware of how much she wanted Ty to be happy?
It was all very confusing, and she pulled into the Davidsons’ drive and got out of her Jeep with the same amount of trepidation she’d had the last time she’d been here—when she’d been arresting violent home invaders.
Frankly, violent home invaders were a bit less scary than trying to sit and make friends.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know the Davidson sisters socially, at least. She even quite liked Lynn, who was about Misty’s age and had a no-nonsense, get-it-done attitude that Misty truly appreciated.
They’d all gone to school together, too. And maybe Misty and Lynn would’ve been friends, if Misty hadn’t been so devoted to her schoolwork, her sports teams, and her father’s homemade training regimen for Misty’s eventual succession as sheriff.
With that, plus the fact that he’d worked a lot and she’d had to make her own dinner most nights, she hadn’t ended up having much time for friends. And as soon as she’d gone through the police academy, she’d turned into just as much of a workaholic as he’d been.
Well, it was time to change that. Apparently.
So she joined Ty, who was waiting for her up the drive with that big smile on his face. The smile steadied her. She knew Ty was happy to have her here. There was no way he was manufacturing that grin.
And if it turned out the others weren’t genuinely welcoming, well, she could make her excuses and leave. Nothing was stopping her.
So she came forward and let Ty lead the way to the front door.
It was opened before he could knock, with Lynn’s mate, Ken Turner, on the other side. He had a grin on his face to rival Ty’s. “You show your face again!” he said, pulling Ty in for a back-slapping hug. “We thought you didn’t like us anymore.”
“Not sorry,” Ty said over Ken’s shoulder. “See, I’m here now.”
“And the more the merrier,” Ken said, pulling back and extending his hand to Misty. “I think we’ve only met when you were on duty before. I’m Ken.”
“Misty,” she said, shaking his hand.
“Come on back, everyone’s in the yard.”
“In the yard?” Ty asked. “Isn’t it like forty degrees out?”
“We’ve got a fire pit, it’s awesome. You’ll love it. Come on.”
They trooped back through the hall. Misty’s eyes automatically noted the places where the wolves had entered, all those months ago, and then she shook her head and focused instead on the character of the house: old, and full of decorations that reminded her that Lynn and Stella’s grandmother had owned this house before they did, but also full of signs of life. Boots by the front door, a thriller novel turned upside-down to mark its place. An iPad charging on the kitchen counter, and coffee mugs in the sink.
And the rise of voices out the back door. Misty almost hesitated...and then Ty, who’d had to squeeze ahead of her in the narrow hallway, reached his hand back.
Warmth filled her. She took it, twining their fingers together. How was this so comfortable? She’d never been one for holding hands in public. But with Ty it somehow seemed natural.
They’d still never talked about whether they were on a date or not. Hand-holding seemed to confirm it, though.
Together, they stepped out through the door into the firelit backyard. Misty’s first impression was of a crowd—all indistinguishable shapes by the fire. Which, her professional eye noted, was appropriately safe and separated from any flammable vegetation, although much as she hated to admit it, Ryder had been right earlier: at this time of year everything was a bit damp and the risk was minimal.
Ty tugged her forward, as shadowed shapes started separating themselves out and coming forth to resolve as individual people.
First were Pauline and Lynn, both with genuine smiles on their faces for Misty. She stepped forward with relief, shaking both of their hands.
“I’m so glad you came along,” Pauline said, sincerity in every word. “I keep hoping you’ll make it out to another one of our dinners. I know you’re busy, but it’s always so nice to see you.”
“Thank you,” Misty said, overwhelmed.
Lynn nodded. “Nice to have you over. Been meaning to catch up since you moved back, but there’s been...” She waved her hands to indicate the crowd of people. “A lot going on.”
“I’ve noticed,” Misty said dryly.
Lynn surveyed the scene. “Never thought this place would get lively like this. It was never this busy, even when we were kids. But it turns out that I like it.”
Several months ago, Misty knew, Lynn had lived alone in this rambling old house. She’d been single, and worked as an individual wilderness guide, hiking around in the mountains all day with one or two tourists along with her.
Now, her business was booming, she had a mate, her sister had moved back in with a mate and her teenaged daughter, and their mates’ old friends had moved to town and started the—what? Community? Pack?—that Misty was meeting here tonight.
“I’m glad you’ve found a—a pack,” Misty said hesitantly. “I don’t know if that’s the right word.”
Lynn looked thoughtful. “Hard to say,” she said. “I grew up knowing that a pack was all the same animal. I thought I couldn’t have one here, because there aren’t that many lynxes around, not like the wolves or the bears or the smaller animals.”
“I feel the same,” Misty said, grateful that someone understood.
“But you don’t have to,” Lynn said seriously. “Because that really does seem to be what we’re building here. Ken and his friends...in the military, they didn’t have the luxury of hanging out with only the same type of shifter. They were with their platoon, and that was their pack, and that was it. And that’s carried over, and I have to say I like it.”
“Me too,” Misty agreed wholeheartedly.
It made her wonder if this could be the future. If, instead of a group of factions all made up of the same type of shifter, insular and mistrustful of outsiders, they could be one thriving community, with bonds across all lines.
She didn’t know how to make it happen, but she suddenly wanted to see it in her lifetime.
“Come on,”
Pauline was saying, “you have to meet everyone.”
Ty, Misty realized, had been pulled forward and absorbed into a crowd of equally enormous men, all slapping his shoulder and punching his arm and giving him back-pounding hugs. Lynn’s sister Stella, meanwhile, had come over to join them, and was surveying these rituals with a critical eye.
“I don’t know why men feel like they have to pretend they’re fighting when they show affection,” she said.
Her daughter Eva, who was a senior in high school, if Misty remembered correctly, had followed. She rolled her eyes. “Because anytime they have feelings, they have to remind everyone they’re big and tough so no one can hurt them,” she said with extreme teenage disdain.
Drew, Pauline’s foster son, was following behind her. “I don’t do that,” he objected. “I mean. Not anymore.”
Eva turned back to him, the critical expression dropping off of her face. “You’re different,” she said.
“Yes, yes, young people are infinitely superior to old people,” Lynn said. “We get it.”
“Aunt Lynn, that’s not what I meant—”
Lynn was laughing, and Eva turned up her nose, trying to hide the smile tugging at her own lips. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she insisted.
Drew, meanwhile, had made his way over to Misty’s side. “Um,” he said.
Misty turned to him. “Yes? What’s up?” She wondered if he’d had any more trouble with the wolves lately. Maybe Zeke and Ryder were giving him a hard time?
“I just wanted to say thanks, too,” he said quietly. “You could’ve put me in jail this summer if you wanted to. I’m really glad you didn’t. Really...really glad. If there’s anything I can do...?”
Misty felt like her whole body softened in response to his words. Why couldn’t all teenagers be earnest like Drew? “I don’t want you thinking I went above and beyond the call of duty,” she told him. “I felt bad for you, but also, it didn’t make any sense to arrest you when getting information on the gang you’d met was so much more important. And you can help me out by staying out of my professional eye from now on. Maybe get yourself a college education.”