by Maria Lima
“The boys and several others of the pack have been dismantling the blinds and removing weapons as they find them. Usually, they’re easy to find—they smell.”
“Gun oil and steel,” Niko said knowingly.
“Yes.”
“Then who shot Gregor?” Adam’s steely green gaze caught Mark’s amber one. “And who shot out our tire tonight?”
“That is the million-dollar question, my liege.”
Adam gave Marcus a lordly nod. “Inasmuch as you are here, you are ours,” he said, a regal expression confirming the king he was. “You may be neither of our blood nor yet sworn allegiance, but we will not leave you to handle this alone.”
With a confirming nod, Marcus accepted Adam’s statement. “Thank you,” he said. “My pack and I accept your offer of help.” With this, he turned to Gregor and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Even in the dark, I could see Gregor’s pain. “Hold on, kiddo,” Marcus said. “We’ll get you home.”
“Do you think this has anything to do with us?” I asked Adam, trying to be as quiet as possible.
Adam shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said. “We’ve never come here to this place, and people here don’t know us.”
“But they do know and dislike Marcus’s family,” I finished. “Crap and damnation. A hate crime?”
“Could be.” Adam remained extremely calm outwardly, but his energy pulsed against me. I took his hand, feeling the raw anger he controlled. “There were some bumper stickers on the truck that made me think that … are there those kinds of groups around here? White supremacists?”
“No, not that I know of anyway,” I said. “White Rock’s a pretty conservative community, but they’re pretty low-key. This is a quiet, churchgoing community. You know the kind, bake sales, rummage sales, summer picnics. I don’t remember there ever being any of that sort of crime here … just the usual.”
“The usual?”
“Petty theft, vandalism, domestics. Nothing much that you wouldn’t find in any small town.”
“Need I remind you of your cousin Marty?” Adam asked, no irony in his tone.
“You needn’t,” I replied. “But that wasn’t a hate crime, even though it was all about hatred.” No, Boris and Greta hadn’t targeted Marty, Adam, Niko, and me because of our backgrounds, only from some sense of twisted revenge. It was very, very personal.
From what I understood, most hate crimes are the exact opposite. They aren’t about the individual but the person as a representative, however reluctant, of a group—gays, feminists, racial, religious, ethnic—whatever the hate group wanted to target at that time. “Gregor’s a star player on the team. If someone hurt him deliberately, it’s something personal. Something we don’t know.”
Almost as one, Adam and I turned to look at the three wer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“THEY DON’T LIKE ME,” Gregor ventured, “but shooting at me? A little harsh, don’t you think?”
“He’s right, Keira,” Mark said. “Not the type of behavior you’d expect from kids. Adam, what about the bumper sticker? Could you see a logo or name of any sort?”
“Somewhat,” Adam answered. “The truck was moving and was filthy—covered in mud. Even the license plate numbers were covered. From the part I could see, where the dirt had come off, it resembled something I’d seen on a news item about a white supremacist group … a modified swastika, perhaps?”
Oh holy fuck. Not here, please, not here. We had our share of rabid Christians and the like, but they were most likely to try to get you to convert, not shoot at you because you were different.
“The men were wearing caps,” Adam continued. “I couldn’t tell if their heads were shaven.”
“That’s not a necessary attribute, as far as I know,” I said. “I think that’s mainly the skinheads—a particular group. There’s tons of different little groups existing. I imagine there could be one in this rather redneck part of the woods, but my family’s been around here long enough that we would have heard.” I hoped.
“Tucker?” Niko said.
“Not that I know of,” Tucker said. “Rio Seco’s fairly liberal, and White Rock’s always been conservative, but with church types. Not those kind.”
“Did you see the bumper sticker?” I asked him.
“No, I was trying to go around the other side, follow the guy with the wounded hand. Sorry, sis.”
Niko’s expression remained grim, his focus fixed on the road in front of us. Despite that, I could almost taste the rage whirling inside him. Who would dare attack us? Who was their target? Like Niko, I felt the same anger and anxiety, topped off with a definite feeling of “not again.” This was my home, damn it. My own turf, and people just kept coming and disturbing it. Yeah, I knew I would be in for politics and more adult responsibilities, but I’d only been home for a couple of days. Couldn’t these freaks find somewhere else to cause a fuss?
“Gregor, might I ask you a question?” Adam’s tone remained calm and cool. Of the four of us, his demeanor was the least disturbed, yet beneath it, I sensed an equal rage. Whoever these assholes were, even if this had only been some redneck’s idea of a stupid prank, they were going to pay in spades.
“You said earlier you felt that the boys from the church group disliked you because of your hair, and that you and Luka were outsiders.”
“Yeah,” Gregor said around a yawn. “Sorry, I’m really tired right now. They’ve never really liked me or him. Cracks all the time about longhairs, hippies, and fags.”
“Do they have a reason to believe you prefer men?” Adam continued.
“Naw, not really,” Gregor said. “Luka might be more flexible, but I like girls. I asked out one of the cheerleaders one time and got thrown up against a locker.” His gaze flickered away. He was lying again, trying to spare us the true nature of the attack. I just knew it. As he looked back at Adam, then me, I nodded my head in acknowledgment. He gave me a weak smile. I’d cover for him in front of his aunt and uncle, but soon as I could get this kid alone, he’d be fessing up everything. Not that I’d intrude on his mind, his private thoughts, but I was pretty sure I could get Tucker to talk to him guy-to-guy. I glanced over at my brother, who nodded. We knew each other so well.
“What? Why didn’t you say something?” Mark demanded. He sat up, nearly jostling Gregor to the floor.
“Watch it, Mark,” Dixxi said. “Answer him, Greg. What’s up with that? You getting hazed at school? You don’t have to go there, you know. We can pull you out.”
“I managed all last year, didn’t I?” Greg retorted. “I’m good, Mark. You told me to fit in, so I’m trying.”
“Fitting in doesn’t mean putting up with treatment like that.” Mark scowled at his nephew. “You should have told me.”
“And then what? My uncle comes yelling at the school principal and then I get treated even worse? I can handle it.”
“How about Luka?” I ventured. “You said he’s been harassed, too?”
Gregor nodded, his eyes closing as he yawned again. “Same kind of shit, pretty much. We talked about it but decided that if we’re gonna be part of the team, part of the kids here, we’ll just deal. Anyhow, this is a new year. I’ll be a junior, Luka will be a sophomore. Maybe things’ll ease up.”
“Maybe they won’t,” Dixxi added darkly. “Damn it, boy, you know you can talk to me, right?”
“I know, Aunt Dix,” Gregor pleaded. “But I just didn’t want to cause …” He voice trailed off. Had he fallen asleep or was he searching for words? His eyes were still shut.
“Cause a problem?” Mark added. “Did you want to keep this from me because I wanted this to work out so much?”
“Uh-huh.” With that, Gregor succumbed to sleep, his head slumping onto Dixxi’s shoulder.
“Well, fuck,” Dixxi said.
“What she said,” Mark echoed. He gave a sigh, then kissed the top of Gregor’s head. “I never meant for him to be a target.”
“School let out, w
hat? A few weeks ago?” I asked.
“Couple of weeks,” Dixxi said. “June third. The boys had special practices, though, for this exhibition game. Every day, three thirty until five.”
“Sheesh, during the peak heat of the day? Are those coaches insane?”
Dixxi shrugged. “I tried asking about it, but Greg told me that was the way it was. Maybe now I know why he didn’t want to rock the boat.”
“Do you think these boys he spoke about could have targeted him literally?” Adam asked.
“Rifles and guns?” Mark shook his head vehemently. “These church members are violently opposed to letting kids use guns,” he said. “They teach safe hunting classes and all sorts of things to avoid stupid accidents.”
“Good thing in a state that allows just about anyone to carry concealed,” I muttered.
“How do you know about the church policies?” Niko said. “I thought y’all didn’t attend their services.”
“They teach at the high school,” Mark answered. “Elective classes, but mandatory if you’re a church member and want to get a hunting license. They have swearing-in ceremonies and all sorts of rigmarole. I saw a flyer that Gregor brought home one day and asked about it.”
“Intrusive, much?” I said. “What happened to separation of church and state? White Rock High School is a state-funded school, right? Public school?”
“It is,” Mark agreed. “But everything in White Rock revolves around the church. They’re practically in every pie.”
Tucker frowned. “That’s more than I remember it being,” he said. “When did this happen?”
“Don’t know, really,” Mark said. “The boys have only been going to school here this past year. I wasn’t taking too much notice of the setup before that.”
“Wow, not kosher at all,” I said. “I don’t mean that literally, by the way. That’s not the way this is supposed to work. Bad enough the damned football games start with a prayer that is one hundred percent Baptist Christian, no room for other faiths or beliefs, having the church up to their white-gloved elbows at the school is beyond not cool. How do you guys put up with this? Can’t you write letters to the school board? To the state school board?”
“It is what it is, Keira.” Mark sounded resigned to it. “That church provides a lot of much-needed money for extracurricular activities. State funds are at an all-time low. They’re deeply involved in all the community service groups.”
“That doesn’t explain how they got their fingers in that pie,” I argued. “That takes time, not just money. They may be running the school board, but that doesn’t mean they completely run the school.”
“I don’t know,” Mark said. “It’s a small town, a small population. It happens. Hell, they even offered to help with home-school groups in the area—sent out mailers with suggested materials, offers for help with curricula, ways for home-school kids to socialize and the like.” He shrugged. “I read it, realized it was all church-oriented, then shredded it.”
“If you knew the church was so involved with the school, why did you decide to send the boys there? Experiments in mainstreaming don’t always work. My own self excepted.”
“You were mainstreamed?” Dixxi said in surprise. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“I went to school in Rio Seco from grade one on,” I said. “Graduated from the high school. Mark, surely you realized that when we …” Well, “met” wasn’t the exact word I could use, more like “saw each other and fucked wildly once.” “You knew, didn’t you?”
“That you were from the high school? No. Just that you were a Kelly. Not that it really matters now.”
“It doesn’t. Just that my mainstreaming worked, but our Clan members don’t really have much magickal ability until they Change—usually sometime in their fifties or so. Not quite the same as having natural-born werekids in a human school system.”
“I had to try, Keira,” Mark said. “Until you came back as heir, Kellys had pretty much left this land, and any umbrella of protection for me and my pack was gone. I did the only thing I knew to do—try to blend in and keep safe.”
A pang of guilt lanced through me. Did Gigi realize what the Clan’s leaving had done? Did this mean other groups were in the same leaky boat? Adam put a hand on my arm and shook his head. He didn’t need to say it aloud for me to know this was not the time to start down this thorny path of discussion. I headed in another direction.
“Mark, I get your point—but just because a lot of the students are church members, that doesn’t mean there’s not a pack of mean kids hazing in their own special way.”
“To the point of gunshots? That’s taking it above and beyond.”
“Explain then why there were two gunmen out in the woods tonight that managed to hit our tire—which, mind you, takes some fucking excellent shooting in the dark.”
“Infrared,” Adam said. “I caught a glimpse of one of the rifles. Infrared scope mounted on it.”
“Still, even though we weren’t taking these curves that fast, shooting out a tire is a hell of a lot harder than it seems in the movies.” I continued to argue my point.
“Nor did they,” Niko said. “Ricochet most likely. Are you trying to imply they are sharpshooters or something?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Could be a way to track them down?” The last was a question simply because I was grasping at frail straws here.
“I’m not sure that will help,” Mark said. “Too many former military around. All those bases in San Antonio means a lot of folk retire here. There are probably dozens of sharpshooters, not to mention hobby hunters who are really, really good.”
I conceded the point. “Then we’re back to square zero,” I said. “Tucker, why don’t you and Rhys go out there in the morning? Liz can check out the tire, just in case there’s anything there. She’s a fair enough mechanic. Maybe she’ll see something we wouldn’t.”
“I thought you said she was a healer,” Mark said.
“She can do some healing, yes,” I explained. “We Kellys get one major talent and sometimes can do small things.”
“So she’s a mechanic?”
“She’s a pilot by trade. Shapeshifter by talent. Healing is a residual talent that she does well … mostly through years of practice.”
“But you’re the heir, right?” Mark asked.
“I am. I have all the Talents, if that’s what you’re getting at, but it’s not like insta-knowledge of how to use them. I still need practice and training to be a full-on healer.” I grimaced at the realization that perhaps I’d need to bring in more of my Clan. My original plan of action on returning was to get settled, get the reception out of the way, and then work out further training with my brothers and Liz. Since we rarely needed healers once Changed, especially for those of us who weren’t danger seekers, I’d figured on saving that for later—maybe taking a few months’ vacation back at the enclave and studying with my aunts. Since danger seemed to be seeking us—or at least people we were responsible for—that aspect of my training might just need a swift kick in the prioritization.
Niko slowed and turned left onto a familiar road.
“We’re nearly there,” I said. “Just a bit until we get to the gate. Adam, the inn?”
“Yes,” he said. I pulled out my phone and hit one of my speed dial numbers. When the ranch’s operator answered, I had her put me through to the inn’s manager and made arrangements for the three of them to stay in one of the guest suites. I then made a quick phone call to let Bea know we’d be staying at the ranch. She was curious but too tired to pursue it.
“I’ll talk to you in the morning, chica, okay?”
She murmured a sleepy “G’night.”
“You’ll be comfortable there,” Adam was saying as I snapped the phone shut. “You may order from the kitchen at any time.”
“I’ll send Liz over soon as we get there,” I said. “She’ll get Gregor fixed up as best she can. You all need to get a good night’s sleep.”
/> “Yes,” Adam added. “We’ll regroup tomorrow.”
“Regroup tomorrow?” Mark spoke directly to Adam. “We’ll have to wait until dark?”
“Not necessarily,” Adam said blandly. “I can move around in the daytime, just not in direct sunlight. Someone can collect you and we can meet at my house.”
“Look, y’all,” I said. “Right now, we all need to get some rest so we’ll be ready to make more sense of this.” I tossed Dixxi my phone. “Plug in your numbers there, Dixxi, if you would. I’ll call you at a reasonable hour.”
“Thanks, Keira,” she said and promptly began programming numbers in.
Mark stroked Gregor’s hair. “Yes, thanks, Keira,” he said. “I do appreciate all your help.”
I acknowledged his thanks with a nod and a yawn. “Sorry, guys. It’s not even close to my bedtime, but all this craziness is wearing.”
“You did exert your energy somewhat more than usual tonight,” Adam reminded me.
Oh yeah, that I had. No wonder.
With a flip of a remote, Niko opened the gate to the back drive of the ranch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I’LL SEND IANTO to stay with Bea,” Tucker said.
He, Niko, Adam, and I sat in Adam’s living room after settling the Ashkarians.
“Necessary?” I yawned. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”
Adam put his arms around my waist and I gladly snuggled into his body. “Seems a sensible precaution,” he said. “Never hurts to be safe.”
“She was in bed when I called awhile ago,” I said.
“I’d rather her lose a little sleep waiting up for him,” Adam insisted.
“Okay, you win.” I smiled and tossed him the phone. “But you get to call her.”
“Indeed.” He returned the smile and dialed. I turned back to Tucker as Adam began speaking to Bea in a low voice.
“When I took Liz over to them Mark was calling Lev.” Tucker, who was as ensconced with Niko as I was with Adam, took a sip of coffee. Brilliant brother had read my mind and brewed up a pot before we’d gotten there. “He asked him to stay home with Luka and Jacob and keep the doors locked.”