“Looks shimmery to me,” I said.
“Okay, now run your senses along the lines, like sliding your fingers on a thread. Do you feel any vibrations?” Grandma said.
I could feel Sid sliding along the line in one direction, so I took a ninety-degree angle to her and slid along the other. There were little shimmers along the line. Like the vibrations you’d feel if you were to rest your fingers on a plucked guitar string.
“You two feel the little tremors? Those are emotions. Events. The bright feelings are positives and the dark, heavy feelings are negatives,” Grandma said.
“I can feel something like a plucked string,” I said.
“Yes, that’s a positive,” Grandma informed me.
“This is so cool,” Sid whispered.
We opened our eyes and let go of our hands. “Guess we need to get Grandma drunk more often. She teaches us cool shit,” I said – and earned a swat up the back of my head from Grandma.
“Watch your mouth, boy. Irreverent little fucker.”
We all laughed at that.
“I know, Grandma, but you love me anyway,” I said.
“Sin, you’ve always been a mouthy little shit, but it’s also one of the things I love most about you. You don’t let anyone tell you differently.”
“At least you don’t call him a warlock anymore,” Sid said.
“I was an angry, hurt, old woman and I took that out on you two. I’m sorry about that,” Grandma said.
“At least, unlike some of our other grandparents, you…” I stopped talking.
“I pulled my head out of my ass and figured out I was only hurting myself? Yes, precisely that,” Grandma said.
Sid snorted into her beer and shook her head. “Alright, I need some sleep. It’s been a long day and the beer is finally making me sleepy. Come on, Sin, I don’t want to walk in the dark by myself.”
I got to my feet and leaned over to give Grandma a hug. “Love you, Grams. Sleep well, when you go.”
“Love you, too, kiddo. Good night.”
* * *
Well, the morning after graduation, I fully did not expect to be out running with my sister just past sunrise, but we had just passed the eight-mile mark and had turned to head back a few paces ago. We were both counting our lucky stars we were part shifter and didn’t have hangovers from the day before.
“Have you heard from Stumpy, yet?” Sid asked.
“No, and I sent him a text this morning. After our run, let’s shower and grab some food on the way to the station. I want to see him face to face. Can’t avoid our questions if he’s staring us in the eye.”
“Yeah, he can. But he won’t. Not now that we’re officers.”
“Wishful thinking, sis. Stumpy is always going to see us as the kids of his best friend – and little kids at that,” I said.
“I’m still worried about Dad and those threats from Lord James. I’m also thinking we need to check in with the Commander and make sure he got out of last night what he needed and is doing okay,” Sid said.
“Yeah, and Mom’s healing should be going better. Sett said that Jolie had found some new potion blends that seemed to be helping her regain some strength. They couldn’t tell yet, though, if they would maintain or fade away.”
“Jolie’s amazingly good with potions and herbs. Grandma says she may outshine her own skill soon enough. Which means, I trust her to do what’s best for Mom,” Sid said.
“Even if she’d rather poison us both herself?” I countered.
Sid laughed and nodded, then picked up the pace, making me work for the last mile.
* * *
Showered and changed, Sid drove us to the Belle Cove police station. Our shiny new badges were tucked in our pockets, our service weapons locked in the console safe Grampa had insisted we install in our trucks, our backup weapons strapped to our ankles. No, our backups were not guns. Instead, we carried combo knives that could open a beer or a throat with equal ease.
As we got out of her truck, Sid nodded to the corner of the lot. “There’s Stumpy’s car. Looks like we might be able to catch him after all.”
“Oh, joy,” I muttered.
“Why don’t you want to talk to Stumpy?” Sid asked,
“Something about the whole thing with him and the original attack at the house has me questioning things.”
“Like what?”
“Like why Stumpy didn’t call bullshit on the SPD not investigating.”
“Probably because he never trusted Grandpa Boudreau and figured he’d tank it if he got involved. Which would have been true since he’s the one that ordered Uncle Brian to do it.”
“But how did Stumpy know that? How did he know Lord James was involved?” I asked.
“Maybe he didn’t know and just suspected.”
“Yeah, maybe. Then again, who are we to question an experienced cop? We barely know how to open our badge wallets without pinching our fingers.”
“Hey, Sin. Have you ever seen Stumpy shift?”
“No. Have you?” Sid said.
“Nope. But he’s been friends with Dad since they were toddlers, so he’s got to be a shifter. Lord James wouldn’t have let a non-shifter be that close to his family,” I said.
Sid shrugged. “Maybe he’s just private about it. Not everyone likes to shift in packs.”
I knew she was talking about her own issues with shifting.
“Benny had said he was a null and had no shifter abilities. Would Lord James have let a null be his son’s friend?” I said.
“It’s not possible to know if someone’s a null until after puberty and the first shift does or does not happen. Maybe, by then, it was a case of just letting it be.”
“Maybe. Well, let’s go find out what he knows about Dad.”
We entered the station and walked up to the counter.
“Can I help you?” the officer behind the counter asked, not looking up until I spoke.
“We’re here to see Detective Clancy. Could you tell him Officers Sidonie and Sinclair Boudreau of the SPD are here to see him?” Yes, I did flash my badge at the guy. What can I say? I still got a little thrill out of the fact the badge was real and not one of those plastic ones they used to give to us as kids.
“Have a seat over there and I’ll let him know you’re here, officers.”
Sid and I took our seats. It was only about ten minutes before Stumpy came out to greet us.
“Hey, kids. What are you two doing here?”
“We wanted to talk, Stumpy. You about off shift?” I asked.
“Yeah, I was just finishing up. Let me grab my gear and I’ll meet you out front,” he said.
Sid got up and reached out to hug him. “It’s good to see you, Stumpy. How about we treat you to some dinner and drinks?”
Stumpy hugged Sid back and patted her shoulder. “Sounds good to me. Give me five.” He turned and headed back through the door and we went out front.
We stood by his car and I looked at Sid. “What was that hug about?”
Sid grinned at me and leaned in to whisper, “I slid some of that tracking potion into his hair. That way, if he changes clothes, it’ll still be there. Just hope he doesn’t shower tonight until later, huh?”
I shook my head. “That, dear sister, was genius.” We both stopped talking as Stumpy joined us.
“So, you good with following us, Stumpy, or do you want to ride with us? We can have a few drinks and drop you home or back here or whatever,” I said.
“Naw, I’m going to need my car later. I’ll follow you. Where did you have in mind?” Stumpy said.
“How about the steak house up the road?” Sid said. It was where we’d agreed to go. Nice enough to sit for a while and have good food, but not too fancy that they wouldn’t let us hang out for two or three hours over a meal and drinks.
“You kids treating? That place is a little rich for my wallet,” Stumpy said.
“Of course. We invited you, we’re paying,” I told him.
“Then I’m all i
n. Meet you there.”
Sid and I turned towards our vehicle as Stumpy got his gear stowed and settled into his car.
We were about two yards from the car when Sid whirled around and raced back towards Stumpy.
“Wait! Stumpy!” Sid yelled.
He rolled down his window and looked at her as she ran up beside him, with me a few paces back.
“What’s up, Sid?” Stumpy asked.
Sid looked pale and panicked, and I was as lost as to why as Stumpy.
“G-get out of the car,” Sid said. “Please. I…uh…saw something. Your car isn’t safe.”
“What are you talking about, Sid?” I said.
“I saw his car explode.”
Stumpy stared at Sid for a moment, then carefully got out of the car and left the door open. “What did you see, Sid? Was it like a bomb or something else?”
I was grateful at that moment that Stumpy knew us and wasn’t assuming Sid had lost it.
Sid closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. “I saw the car skid and then an explosion, so no, I don’t think it was a bomb. More like a mechanical failure?”
With his car parked in the far corner of the lot, it was out of the range of the BPD’s cameras. I dropped to my hands and knees and peered under the car. “There’s a puddle under the front end of the car. Some kind of engine fluid or something. I can’t tell with the car over it.”
Stumpy’s car was a classic 1965 Pontiac GTO. The first generation of Pontiac’s GTO line. I gestured to the front seat and Stumpy nodded, so I slid into the car. The keys were in the ignition, so I put my foot on the brake pedal – and it sank to the floor.
“Figured it out. Someone messed with the brake line. Your brakes are out.”
Sid frowned. “But if the brakes are already out, how come I saw it happening anyway?”
Stumpy leaned against the side of the car. “I was supposed to have left two hours ago but got tied up with some paperwork. If I had left when they originally planned it, the brakes would have failed on the ride home.”
I rolled up the window and pulled the keys out to hand to Stumpy. “So, Sid saw the planned failure. The minute you put your foot on the pedal, you would’ve known the brakes were out. But if you’d left earlier, there would’ve been enough fluid to keep them working for a couple of miles.”
Stumpy took the keys, then turned and hugged Sid. “Either way, I’m grateful. So, can I get a ride to the restaurant and then home? I’ll have to call a tow for this.”
“Sure, Stumpy, not a problem. Give me your bag and you can go call it in,” I said.
Sid
I was still feeling a little unsettled after my – whatever the hell that was. Vision? Brain cramp? I drained the glass of wine and held it out to be refilled. Sin gave me a look and I just wiggled the glass in his direction until he poured.
“Don’t argue with the woman, Sinclair. Just pour your sister her wine and tell me why you two wanted to treat me to dinner. I’m sure there was more to it than shootin’ the shit with an old family friend.”
Sin finally filled my glass and set the bottle down before he turned to Stumpy. “Well, we had a few reasons to get together with you.”
I took another swallow of wine and set the glass down. Of course, the waiter had the best timing. I was just about to speak, and he showed up with our appetizers, so I leaned back and stayed silent until he left once more. “We know you’ve been helping Dad and we need to meet with him.”
Stumpy stopped helping himself to the appetizers for a moment, then finished loading his plate. His gaze shifted from Sin to me, then around the room to check for anyone paying too much attention to our conversation. We had chosen a corner table away from the windows and main areas, so it was clear.
“I know you two saved his ass the other day in the forest, but it still took him a couple of days to heal from that. Even with our accelerated healing, he needed the time.”
“Our accelerated healing?” Sin asked.
Stumpy chewed a stuffed mushroom, then swallowed. “Yes, our healing. I may not have all of the shifter gifts, but I do have some of them. Healing, enhanced senses, speed. I just can’t change my form.” He stabbed a bit of bacon-wrapped cheese, then looked at me. “How’d you find out?”
“About you?” I said as he nodded and ate.
“It was a mix of something Benny said about you being a Null and the fact that Sid and I had never seen you shift,” Sin told him.
“We didn’t know exactly what a Null was. Still don’t, really,” I said.
“Null is the most polite term that is used when a child is born of shifter parents doesn’t develop the full spread of gifts. Some can shift but don’t have the healing or sense enhancements. They don’t usually survive very long. Some are like me, get everything but the shifting ability. That is more common, simply because genetics tends towards the survivors.”
Sin nodded to that. “Those that survive, pass on genes. Those that die, don’t.”
“And precisely why I will never mate,” Stumpy said. “I won’t pass this curse on to any kids.”
“But the chance of it happening is relatively rare,” Sin said.
“But there’s still a chance,” Stumpy replied. He picked up his beer and drained half of it before speaking again in a rough whisper. “My body cannot complete a shift, but it still wants to shift. That torture is not something I’d ever wish on another being.”
We all sat in silence for a moment before I laid a hand over Stumpy’s. “I’m sorry, Stumpy. That well and truly sucks. So, what the actual hell is going on with Dad? Mom’s still too weak to risk getting her upset and no one else seems to know anything.” Well, Grampa Walsh knew stuff, but I wasn’t going to mention him unless Stumpy did first.
The waiter showed up to deliver our food and a fresh beer for Stumpy. We had cleared out most of the appetizers so I dumped them onto one plate and handed him the extras so there was room on the table. One thing I could say for shifter metabolism. It needed a lot of fuel. We all waited until he’d left, sorted out our plates and took a couple of bites. Then Stumpy started to talk.
“Your father suspected about ten years ago that something was going on with the Academy and, as such, with the SPD. We talked about it often over beers, but I didn’t realize he was running his own investigation until about three years ago when he came to me about this Purist League bullshit.”
“We didn’t hear about the Purists being organized until a few months ago,” Sin said.
“There were always those who wanted more purity within their species. Believing it made them stronger or more powerful. We’ve not yet been able to find the person behind the organization. Or at the head of it. We’ve figured out some of their members – mostly the talking heads that fundraise and recruit – but not the leaders,” Stumpy said.
“You don’t have to tell us about the purists wanting purity. We’ve lived with it our whole lives,” I said.
Stumpy nodded as he chewed and swallowed. “And your parents did an excellent job of keeping you alive. Other parents of mixed kids weren’t so lucky.”
I looked at Sin and he at me.
“Are you saying some kids like us were hurt?” Sin asked.
Stumpy nodded and drank more beer. A heavy sigh slid from him as he spoke, “Three little ones were killed over the past couple of years – that we’ve learned about. Two in Belle Cove and one in Sorsyville.”
“Kept out of the news?” I asked.
“Of course. Accidents all of them, officially. The SPD has them as open murder investigations, but nothing is being done on them,” Stumpy said.
“That’s no surprise. Not with Lord James running the show,” Sin grumbled as he viciously stabbed a bite of steak.
“Who’s Lord James?”
“That’s what we call our Grandpa Boudreau, ever since we decided he was an asshole for trying to mess with us and hurt our parents. Oh, and burning our house down,” I said.
Stumpy didn’t even
look surprised – which is about what I expected. “Yeah, your father told me it was James and Brian behind it all. Family can be seriously fucked up, eh?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Sin muttered.
I poured us both more wine, then dug into my food. For a few minutes, no one spoke, just ate.
Feeling a little less ravenous, I settled back with my wine and lifted the glass. “To the thin blue line. May we walk the path half as well as you have, Stumpy.”
Sin lifted his glass with a “Here, here.”
Stumpy lifted his with a wry grin and tapped both of ours. “Welcome to the family. I’d say brotherhood – but it’s not just brothers anymore. I’m glad to see more sisters joining the ranks.”
We all took a drink and I set my glass down to eat a bit more.
Stumpy had nearly finished his plate when he spoke again. “I did get to your graduation. Stayed way in the back.” His gaze met mine. “I stood next to your Dad, and while he was in disguise, there was no disguising the pride in his expression. You both did him real proud.”
I choked up a bit and looked down at my empty plate.
“I had hoped he would find a way to see it,” Sin said, voice low. “I’m glad he did.”
“Now you’ve been inducted into the family business, is what he said,” Stumpy told us. “He called it your ‘induction day’, not graduation. Knowing what I do about how things changed once I graduated from the BPD academy, he’s not wrong. Life will forever be before you were a cop and after you became one.”
I cleared my throat and took a swallow of wine. I missed Dad too much. “I’m glad he was there. So, what are his plans with all of this? What can you tell us?”
“Well, James started working with one or two people to slowly shift the focus of the Academy and the SPD to a more racially divisive and non-inclusive mindset. There used to be one shifter and one witch partnered up for every patrol car or beat. That is never done anymore. If a crime is discovered to be done by one race or the other, a matching race team is sent to handle it.”
“That sounds like a guaranteed way to end up with a whole rash of issues. Mistrials, mishandling of cases, special favors based on species, I can’t even think of how many different ways this is bad right now,” I said.
Shifters Gone Wild; Collection Page 158