by RJ Blain
I scowled, reevaluating my base desire to avoid paying bail, realized murder might be the only acceptable solution, and set Ethel on her feet before reaching for the leash’s clip.
“You leave that on her, boy. I can’t wait to see what her ma has to say about it. Do remove those cuffs so she can help with the tack, though.”
“I’m pretty sure those cuffs are what’s keeping her from committing a murder, sir.”
“Nonsense. Our little Ethel just likes showing her affection violently.”
“Maybe if you stopped annoying her, she wouldn’t become violent, sir.”
“That’s no fun at all. Ain’t you done beaten the boy on the mat yet, baby girl? He don’t seem tenderized yet to me.”
“Dale’s fairly pacifistic,” she replied, straightening and keeping a firm hold on my bag.
“Did you hit your head to pick a pacifist?”
“Damn it, Dad!”
“What? You ain’t no pacifist, baby girl. You’re going to drive that poor boy crazy.” Ethel’s father looked me in the eyes and announced, “If you need to be rescued, you just give us a call, you hear?”
I was no king of relationships, but even I grasped the basics: when in doubt, supporting my partner would keep me out of trouble. I took my bag from Ethel, hooked a claw beneath the chain linking her cuffs, and lifted. The metal survived longer than I expected before separating. A single slash shredded the leash. “Try not to kill anyone, and I meant what I said about the bail.”
Ethel’s father spat curses, turned tail, and ran.
If the house survived Ethel, I’d be impressed. Once unleashed, she went from reasonable to a devil on a mission of destruction. Her father made it a few steps before she took chase, howling curses.
Ethel’s uncle cleared his throat as he stepped beside me.
“What?” I asked.
“Was letting her loose wise?”
“I’m a firm believer of facing the consequences of one’s actions.”
“You don’t run from her when she’s pissy, do you?”
“When she’s pissy, it’s because I’ve earned her ire, thus deserve her tearing into me.”
“Okay. I can see why she’d get stuck on you, then. It takes a lot of courage to stand firm when she’s angry.”
“It does?” I could think of a handful of times lately I’d annoyed her just to see what she’d do.
“Fair warning, son. Her ma’s got enough elf in her you’ll be on the menu if you hurt our baby girl.”
Before I’d contracted lycanthropy, I’d been an oddity with my unusually high percentage of pure human. When I’d undergone my evaluation, the CDC had been a little too interested in my high percentage of humanity than my parents had been comfortable with.
Lycanthropy typically rewrote and erased standard human DNA.
Such was not the case with me; I’d lost a single percentage of pure human upon infection, and my genetics hadn’t changed post shift. I was as much of a freak as an elf.
In retrospect, my maintained humanity might be to blame for my unique fur color. If I volunteered to undergo additional evaluations, I wouldn’t need the bounty money. The CDC would pay well for the right to poke and prod at me to figure out how I ticked.
Ethel being part elf wasn’t a problem for me, although I was concerned about their reputation of eating whatever crossed their path and pissed them off.
“How much elf is she?”
“Ethel? She’s a quarter, roughly.”
“One of Ethel’s grandparents is a full elf?”
“Yep.”
“That explains a lot. Ethel looks like a full human. Doesn’t her mother have lycanthropy?”
“Lucky roll of the dice; her ma turned out human enough to catch the virus. Of all the brats, Ethel’s got the most elf in her. It’s a good thing you’re a lycanthrope. You’ll survive—probably.”
“I had no idea she’s part elf.”
“Most don’t. They just figure our baby girl’s a powder keg set to blow.”
“Huh.”
“No such worry for you, son?”
“I’ve never noticed. Doesn’t matter to me, either.” Something crashed in the other room, and I winced, hoping Ethel emerged unscathed. “Much.”
“Well, don’t you worry. You won’t need bail. Come along. I’ll show you to the bathroom so you can get changed, then we’ll go have a look for some intel on that lycanthrope attack so you don’t have any distractions. I figure that’s what brought you two over?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m here to get paid off in advance for marrying an elf. I make decent money, but I don’t make the sort of money needed for a good house for lycanthropes, puppies, or elves.”
“Elves don’t tend to do a lot of property damage. Usually.” Ethel’s uncle hesitated, then he sighed. “Who the hell am I kidding? Good lord, no wonder she wants you. You’re so practical it’s downright frightening, and she likes practical.”
My father thought my practical nature was a birth defect, but after hearing Ethel liked it, I’d make a point of informing my family, loudly, I was perfect as I was. I’d enjoy it. “Good to know.”
“Come along. This way. Forgive the clutter. Missy lost her temper, and when she loses her temper, the brave lycanthropes hide in their rooms until she’s less murderous. Missy’s been working the horses a lot, and she’s trailed mud everywhere. It’ll keep my brother busy once she cools off. The place needed an overhaul anyway. Hasn’t been painted in at least ten years.” Ethel’s uncle crossed the foyer and waited for me at the start of a hallway.
I cast a doubtful look at the chandelier. “I see.”
“Ah, that. Ethel’s pappy tried to charm her ma into a better mood. He got tangled in the chandelier by his britches.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Only if you annoy Missy, which I doubt. Us Frankwell men have a tendency to put our feet into our mouths at the worst times. I bet Missy got upset because our baby girl was upset the lycanthrope bitch who hurt you cooperated. I heard some nonsense about a big gun and decided I didn’t want to know anything else.”
“Wise man. Let me see if I understand this. As long as I don’t upset Ethel, I won’t upset Missy—her mother?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“Don’t run. It wakes her elven instincts.”
What had I gotten myself into? As it was too late to run, I followed Ethel’s uncle down the hall to a bathroom spacious enough for several people. The centerpiece of the room was a jet tub meant for two. While I locked the door, I shifted and dressed before someone decided the door needed to be replaced. I delayed long enough to comb my hair and make myself presentable.
It’d take longer than five minutes in a bathroom to manage anything other than passable, but I did what I could. Sighing, I slung my bag over my shoulder and left the bathroom’s flimsy safety.
Ethel’s uncle waited with a willowy waif of a woman, who watched me with narrowed, pale eyes. I’d seen the same look hundreds of times on Ethel’s face when she was scheming something.
Usually trouble.
I couldn’t help myself; I smiled. “You must be Ethel’s mother. I’m Dale. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She blinked. “Well, damn. You’ve got a pair of steep balls on you, don’t you?”
“Running is tiring, ma’am. Why waste the energy?”
“Smart man, especially since my baby girl has plans on tuckering you out tonight. Her pappy’s running her around, and I expect it’ll take him an hour or two before she’s settled. Once she’s riled up, she needs a good chase to work out her nerves. My fault. The other brats didn’t inherit as many of my tendencies. She’s just like my ma, Ethel. Last to get hitched but first for most everything else. I reckon she’ll keep you busy with a little one in nine months.”
Sometimes, I hated other members of my species. To take the focus off me and Ethel, I asked, “Do you have any other grandchildren?”
“My brats, save for Ethel, got themselves one or two each. You’re my only hope for a full herd from one pair.”
I glanced at Ethel’s uncle, who seemed like the more reasonable option of the two. “I don’t suppose I can negotiate the bounty up, can I? I’m going to need a lot more than what’s on offer for a house capable of withstanding an entire herd of children.”
Something crunched deeper in the house, and Ethel’s uncle sighed. “Plus a psychotic part elf requiring exercise or sedation once a month.”
“How does that rank up against a cranky lycanthrope?”
“Fairly close.”
“And should any children inherit her tendencies?”
Ethel’s mother tossed her head back and cackled. “Don’t you worry your pretty head, sugar. My Ethel’s a skinflint. She could probably retire tomorrow if she wanted, but she won’t. She enjoys work too much, although I think you play a part in that. But you are what you are, and like most lycanthrope males ready to take a mate, you’re driven to provide. I like that you’ve put aside your pride to secure what you feel is needed for your family. I see why my daughter might want you. Still, I’m surprised.”
I was surprised Ethel wanted me, but I wasn’t going to question the good things in my life. “Why are you surprised?”
“You’re quite handsome, have the hybrid form, and you’re patient. What’s wrong with you?”
“I can’t fight worth a shit,” I admitted.
“Ethel can do the fighting for both of you. It’s in her blood.”
No kidding. “Purple fur.”
“Charming and exotic.”
Of course she’d think that. She was half elf, and I’d heard enough about elves to be wary. Some said they were crazy. Others claimed they lived to fight.
If Ethel’s mother liked my fur, I wasn’t going to argue with her. “Beyond that, I don’t know.”
“Wise, too. Come. I’ll show you the library. That’s where we’ll pinpoint who attacked that guard and dragged you into trouble. Once my baby girl’s worked out her nerves, she’ll want that settled. Elves don’t like threats in their territory.”
“Does your library come with an instruction manual on elves?”
Ethel’s mother laughed. “Don’t run, don’t cheat, and expect a diet high in protein. If she starts chewing on you, give her some jerky. That’ll give her something to gnaw on.”
“Good to know.”
When I thought of libraries, books came to mind. I stood in the doorway of a mad scientist’s lab blended with a morgue. A few computers, the kind I wished I could afford, were scattered around the room at cluttered workstations. A lone shelf protected with glass held a collection of books I estimated were at least a hundred years old, and unless I’d lost my mind, I was willing to bet they were bound with human skin, likely the victim of someone who’d annoyed one of Ethel’s ancestors.
I remembered some of my basic biology courses; unlike most magic species, elves could exist even when there wasn’t any magic in the world. Lycanthropes did, too, although it was harder to contract the virus without a source of strong magic.
“All right, sugar. First up is your DNA sample, that way if some other dumbfuck tries to steal you from my baby girl, you’ll be easier to track. It’ll also give us a chance to check your genetics so we can be ready for your contributions to the family line.”
As I wasn’t anywhere near brave enough to tell an elf no, I held out my hand so she could steal some of my blood from near my elbow. She stole an entire vial before she was happy. “Before infection, I was mostly vanilla.”
“Good. Ethel needs a challenge. How vanilla, sugar? They tell you the percentage?”
“Ninety-seven percent human.”
Ethel’s mother blinked. “Well I’ll be damned. You don’t get much purer than that nowadays. What are you now?”
“Ninety-five and a half. I was ninety-six after confirmed infection. I don’t think I’ll be losing any more genetic points; been a few years since I developed the hybrid form.”
“One and a half percentage points of lycanthrope, ninety-five and change human, and three percent of what?”
“The CDC wouldn’t tell me.”
Ethel’s mother giggled and passed the vial to Ethel’s uncle. “Alan, be a dear and find out what our little boy here is while I start looking into the idiot who started this mess.”
“Welcome to hell, son.”
From the little I knew about elves, they were violent, territorial, and took offense to a lot of things, especially those who touched their property—and people counted as property to them. Had I been wise, I would’ve begun planning my escape the instant I’d learned Ethel was a quarter elf so the rest of her family wouldn’t decide I was part of their territory.
Accepting the inevitable would make my life easier. “I’m not leaving here until the culprit’s found, am I?”
“No wonder she likes you. You use your head.” Ethel’s mother flashed me a smile.
Vampires dreamed of having incisors like hers, and a few tigers would get fang envy, too. Why hadn’t I found a way to escape? With her teeth, I could easily believe she could eat anything she wanted with little difficulty. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Missy or Mom,” she ordered. “Only Ethel gets away with Ma.”
Like with Ethel, I couldn’t resist testing my luck and her temperament to learn how I’d have to handle the rest of my life. “If I called you Ma and you killed me, would you or Ethel win the resulting fight?”
“I’ve changed my mind. You can call me your ma if you’d like. I’ve seen that gleam in my daughter’s eyes enough times to know you’ll test your luck because you can. Just do me the favor of waiting for when I’m around when you test my baby girl’s patience.”
Why not? I had nothing to lose, and if Ethel’s mother liked me, she might rescue my ass when I crossed the line too far. “I’ll try.”
“Smart boy. All right.” Ethel’s mother rubbed her hands together and sat in front of the nearest workstation, grabbing a sleek laptop beside the large monitor half buried under what I thought was building blueprints. “Start talking, sugar. What do you know about the vic?”
I gave her all the details I knew about Mr. Santiago Jones, his work, and the hybrid wanting to claim him as her mate.
“Well, shit. That’s dumber than dumb. He’d be infected soon enough without help. That probably eliminates her pack unless he done told the bitch no, and considering she brought the whole pack out, she was confident in her chances. Any confirmations?”
“An angel verified the hybrid wasn’t involved. Unknown about the rest of the pack.” I explained my suspicions about Mr. Coolridge and the mall management.
“It’s easier to accept a cursed friend than an unknown. Stupid to us, sensible to them—and ignorant all around, since it’ll be years for that guard to be of use.”
“That was the conclusion we’d come to,” I admitted.
“Missy, the attacker was a professional who covered his tracks. We’re not finding the lycanthrope. He was too thorough in his cleanup.”
“I don’t care about the lycanthrope. I care about who hired the lycanthrope—and I haven’t looked into the matter yet, as my baby girl is a worrywart whiner.”
“You’re going to get Ethel in trouble with the CDC again.”
“Nonsense. If the CDC didn’t want me poking my nose in their business, they wouldn’t have assigned her to the case. It’s not my fault the CDC has rules against hiring elves.”
“If they have a problem with hiring elves, why’d they hire Ethel?” I asked.
“They’re stupid. They think since she’s only a quarter she won’t eat them. Pussycats, all of them. Ethel’s good at what she does, and she doesn’t attack without solid provocation. The lycanthropy virus makes them feel better about it.”
“But you’re infected with lycanthropy,” I pointed out. “Wouldn’t that make you suitable for CDC hire?”
“I’m als
o half. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sugar. I’m a card they only play when they’re out of options. Anyway, I’m sure they’d love to hire me if they have an army of idiots they need to eliminate.”
I worried for the world. “How often do you think the CDC needs someone capable of taking out an entire army?”
“They’ve thought about it a few times, but they don’t like how much I cost.”
“Dare I ask?”
“Well, before Ethel picked you, I was going to make them find a suitable partner for her plus a million for a day’s worth of work. They thought about it, too. Things worked out without my intervention, so I was only paid fifty grand as my retainer fee.”
“Let’s say there was someone who really annoyed me or bothered Ethel, how much to make the problem disappear?”
“Lethally or non-lethally?”
I discarded everything I’d believed about the horrors of a relationship with potential in-laws: I had somehow won the lottery of life with the best—albeit craziest—future mother-in-law on the planet. “Both for sake of budgeting purposes.”
“If I have to leave them alive, I demand a single grandpuppy. The rest is on the house, as I don’t like when people annoy my family.”
“I’m formally notifying you I’m a wolf. As such, I’m an opportunist, and any agreements resulting in children will include a stipulation that any in-laws involved will be required to contribute to said child’s college fund and upbringing fees.”
“You’re going to bleed me dry if I give you an inch, aren’t you?” Ethel’s mother complained. “You’re a brave boy.”
“Or too stupid to climb out the window calmly to avoid giving the impression of running for my life as I don’t want to be eaten by my future mate’s mother.”
“Near future.”
“That’s the idea.”
“We have strict rules about eating family. An elf only eats a family member if they’ve broken the code.”
“I need an instruction manual.”