by Bru Baker
“Selkie,” Jackson mouthed when Harris caught his eye.
Harris craned his neck to get a better look at their charge. No doubt he’d be down at the security office the first chance he got. He’d have questions. They all would.
They kept moving toward the administration building. The security office had a reinforced panic room, much smaller than the one under the camp but useful for situations like this. They’d stick the trespasser in there while they figured out what to do.
The manuals they’d helped write said to turn the trespasser over to the local authority, the park rangers. But since she was a selkie, they’d be calling in the Tribunal. Enforcers would be here within hours to deal with her and evaluate the breach.
“Is there any point to interrogating you before the Enforcers get here?” Jackson asked, grunting as he and Jordan lifted her up the stairs. She’d gone limp the moment they’d cuffed her, so they’d been carrying her by her armpits.
She was silent. Jackson took that as a no. He helped Jordan get her secured to a chair in the panic room before stepping back outside to make the call. Anne Marie should be the one to report it, but the dispatcher would ask for a full report, and she wasn’t trained to give scene updates.
“Jackson Berrings, Central District 172, calling in an intruder at Camp H.O.W.L.,” he said when dispatch picked up. “Suspect is an adult female selkie, affiliation unknown.”
“Copy that, Enforcer Berrings,” a crisp voice answered. “We have East Coast Tribunal Enforcers on the ground in Kansas. Can you confirm Camp H.O.W.L. has an accessible helipad?”
They did. Campers weren’t allowed to arrive or depart using the helipad because they would have to file a flight plan and the camp wanted to stay under the radar with the FAA. But the Tribunal operated with the clearance of a secret government agency and had no such restrictions.
“Affirmative,” Jackson said. “Please update me with their arrival time, and I will meet them at the helipad.”
“Dispatch will alert you when the team is twenty minutes out. Are you or any of the civilians in any immediate danger?”
“We are not. The suspect is in custody and secured. I have trained backup on-site. We will wait for further instructions from the Tribunal.”
“Copy that. Stay safe, Enforcer Berrings.”
The line went dead, and Jackson looked up to see Anne Marie and the man from the porch approaching. She looked livid.
“You will wait in my office until further notice,” she told the man, who continued on while she stopped in front of Jackson.
“You have the intruder? Is it true she’s a selkie?”
Jackson nodded. “We don’t have a name or a motive yet, but we confiscated a camera bag and some high-end tools. My bet is she was hoping for a shot of Candice to sell. She may be a professional photographer. We’re not sure how she knew Candice was here, though. That’s our main concern at the moment.” He waved his phone. “I’ve already called it in. Enforcers will be here within the hour, I’d guess.”
Anne Marie shot him a shrewd look. “You’re an Enforcer. Do we really need to bring more in? That’s just going to further traumatize my wolflings. Having men the size of tree trunks traipsing through camp in full tactical gear won’t do much for their nerves.”
Jackson looked down at the T-shirt and jeans he’d retrieved from the boathouse after he realized Jordan had the suspect detained. He could still smell the pink lemonade.
“I’m a district Enforcer,” he reminded her. “I don’t have clearance for this kind of issue. She’ll go before the East Coast Tribunal. That’s not something I can do.”
She pursed her lips. “Why didn’t she get farther?”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“She’s a selkie. She shouldn’t have been stopped by the fences.”
“The second fence has barbed wire to deter humans, but it also has an alarm system that’s triggered when an infrared beam is interrupted. It makes the siren here in camp sound like a lullaby. When Jordan got to her, she was on the ground writhing in pain. It’s debilitating.”
Anne Marie narrowed her eyes. “And I didn’t know about this because….”
He shrugged and wished he could look away from her Alpha posturing. It was uncomfortable. “The Tribunal requires it for all camps built after 1997. We had a string of violence from the Were separatists in the late nineties, and all new construction had the supernatural alarm system installed. When Jordan and I were updating your systems, we added it.”
“That doesn’t tell me why I didn’t know about it. That could have been a wolfling out there, Jackson! What if one of our campers set it off?”
“This is exactly why you didn’t know about it,” he said. “It’s between the electrified fence and the outer perimeter fence. The likelihood of a wolfling triggering it is slim to none because the electric fence would stop them. We protect that with the inner fence that denotes the boundaries of camp, and I don’t think you’ve ever had a wolfling cross that, have you?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Every camp director in the country has the same reaction when they find out about the added defense. Luckily, they only find out if it is triggered. So welcome to the club. No, you cannot opt out of it. Yes, it was installed at the request of the Tribunal, since the security overhaul qualified as a major renovation. All camps built before the system was invented are required to add it when they update.”
She sighed and pointed at him. “No more improvements to my camp without my knowledge.”
He held his hands up. “I was just following orders. But I can promise you I don’t have any plans to renovate anything else here at Camp H.O.W.L. or do anything to disrupt your routine.”
She stared at him for a moment and rolled her eyes. “You smell like lemonade and sex. Go change. And tell Harris I need that report written up and on my desk in the next hour.”
He didn’t object. She could smell Harris on Jackson’s clothes too, no doubt. Besides, finding Harris was at the top of his list.
Jackson shot off a quick text to Jordan updating him on the plans and then took off for the infirmary, the last place he’d seen Harris. Wolflings were milling around the pond, sitting together in clumps and all talking quietly.
Harris, Kenya, and Nick were on the porch, and Drew was taking around a tray of sodas and snacks for the kids.
“Anne Marie needs a report from you in an hour,” he told Harris before swooping in for a soft kiss.
Harris’s cheeks turned pink, but he looked pleased, his scent spiking with affection when Jackson wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him close. He knew Harris had never been in danger, but it was still reassuring to touch him and confirm he was all right.
“It’s about Richard,” Harris said. “I was just telling everyone about it. He was hiding in the bunker and refused to go patrol his section, and he actually called Candice out on this all being her fault. It was bullshit. Anne Marie is firing him right now. I have to write up the incident report so she has it for her files. I don’t think he’s going to go willingly, so you may need to help her.”
That was part of his job as a district Enforcer. He wasn’t called into service often, but when he was, it was to resolve minor spats or help cover up potential exposure incidents.
“I’m not her favorite person right now,” he admitted. “But in an hour or two this place will be crawling with regional Enforcers. There won’t be a shortage of people to help her toss him out.”
“What can you tell us about the intruder?” Nick asked, swiping an iced tea from the tray Drew brought in.
“It was a selkie with a camera. I imagine she wanted to get photos for a tabloid. We won’t interrogate her until the other Enforcers get here. This level of breach is their jurisdiction. Especially since she’s a selkie.”
“Why?” Drew asked. “What does her being a selkie have to do with it?”
“Selkies and most other shifters have a treaty with the
Tribunal,” Jackson explained. “They have representation on the Tribunal court and in exchange allow the Tribunal to act as their governing body. It’s been like that for more than a century. Since she’s a selkie, she’s ours to deal with. If she’d been fae, we’d have handed her over to the fae court.”
Nick shivered. “I’ve met one fae in my life, and that was enough.”
They were intense. And they hated Weres since they thought Weres and shifters were the biggest threat to exposure for the supernatural community. Most supes didn’t even try to blend with the outside world, while Weres and shifters had thrived for centuries by passing as human.
“I’ve got to get a shower and a change of clothes before the Enforcers arrive,” Jackson said. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Jackson’s stomach did a happy flip when Harris hurried out of the room after him.
“I don’t think I have time for that kind of shower,” Jackson said as they made their way upstairs.
Harris pounced as soon as they entered Jackson’s room. He kissed Jackson like a man starved for affection, and Jackson kissed him back just as desperately. He wished he had more time so they could burn off this nervous energy. Added to the sexual tension, all the adrenaline had Jackson itching to do something physical.
“I really do have to shower,” he murmured as he pulled away. He unbuttoned his shirt, his knees going weak when Harris batted his hands aside and did it for him, followed by the clasp on his jeans.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you take charge?” Harris asked, his voice husky. His dark silky hair was mussed, and he looked like sex on a stick. “God, Jackson. I thought seeing you in uniform was bad, but to have you barking out orders and explaining Tribunal policies—I don’t even know what to do with you.”
The confession surprised a laugh out of Jackson. He wasn’t sure how he should respond. “I’m sorry I’m so competent at my job?”
Harris hummed as he helped Jackson toe off his shoes and step out of his jeans. “I’ll go run you a shower, and then I’m going to leave before I embarrass myself.”
Jackson’s hand shot out and grabbed Harris, stopping him. “You could never embarrass yourself in front of me,” he said, a smirk curving his lips as he traced the outline of Harris’s cock through his pants. “Especially by admitting how aroused I make you.”
Harris’s eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned as Jackson teased him through the fabric. “Maybe you’d better start your own shower,” he rasped out.
Jackson grinned and leaned in to give him a hard kiss. “I will. You should go shower too. Think about what I’m doing in here while you’re in yours.”
Harris’s eyes shot open, his pupils so dilated they looked black. “I’m going to make you pay for this.”
“For what?” Jackson asked innocently. “Caring about your hygiene and general well-being?”
Harris flipped him off. “For making me walk back to my cabin with a raging hard-on,” he muttered. “Asshole.”
Jackson grinned. “I’ll be more than up for playing with your hard-on later, assuming you don’t exhaust yourself in the shower.”
Harris grunted at him and walked out, leaving Jackson standing naked in the middle of the guest room. He glanced at his watch and cursed. It would have to be a fast shower if he was going to be ready in time to meet the Enforcers. Jackson looked down, palming himself with a sigh. Maybe he wouldn’t hurry too much.
DISPATCH called a few minutes after Jackson had gotten dressed. He wished he had his tactical uniform, but all he had were borrowed sweats, because his jeans had honey and goat cheese smeared all over them.
It wasn’t the best impression to make on the Enforcers he hoped would soon be his colleagues, but he’d have to make do.
Four of them exited the helicopter, jumping out when it was six feet off the ground instead of waiting to land. They moved with an almost eerie precision, and inexplicable pride warmed Jackson’s chest as they ran across the field toward him. These were Weres who had trained their whole lives for this position, and he could be running beside them in less than a month.
The helicopter veered back up and disappeared. It had been less than two minutes from the moment he’d heard it on the horizon—that was beyond impressive.
“Enforcer Berrings?” one of the regional Enforcers shouted from a few feet away.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, standing at attention as they approached.
“Enforcer Abernathy. I’ll be the lead on this case. Can you brief us while you’re taking us to the suspect?”
Jackson gave them the rundown, wishing he had more to add. Jordan was with the selkie, and she still wasn’t talking, so aside from giving them an inventory of the contents of her camera bags, he had no new information.
She hadn’t been carrying any weapons aside from the wire cutters she’d used on the outer fence. The rest of the equipment had been cameras and telephoto lenses.
“You said the suspect is a selkie? Did she have her skin with her?”
“No. It’s possible she was being coerced, but I think it’s more likely she just keeps it somewhere safe.”
Abernathy nodded. They jogged up the stairs, and Jordan met them at the top.
“This is Jordan Garrison of the Garrison Pack in St. Louis. He runs Fang and Fury, the security company that did Camp H.O.W.L.’s recent upgrade.”
Abernathy shook Jordan’s hand. “We can take things from here,” she told him. “I’m told you secured the suspect. Thank you for your assistance.”
Jordan looked like he wanted to protest, but Jackson shook his head. The Tribunal was notoriously secretive. Civilians weren’t allowed to participate in Tribunal proceedings.
“We’ll take it from here,” Abernathy said with a curt nod. “Berrings, we will update you when we find out more.”
The four Enforcers disappeared into the panic room, the door shutting behind them.
“Well,” Jordan said, staring after them and looking flustered. “Hello to you too.”
“They’re just doing their job,” Jackson said, trying to pretend he hadn’t been stung by the dismissal as well.
Jordan snorted. “And you’re sure you want to join that?”
He was. He might not like their methods, but they got results. They’d all been stone-faced and brutally efficient, which made it easy to see why they didn’t allow any outside affiliations. When you were a high-level regional Enforcer, it wasn’t just a job. It was everything. They relied on each other for protection in horrible situations—a nonviolent intruder at a camp was practically a vacation for them.
He understood why they couldn’t have any ties, but it wouldn’t make it any easier to walk away from Harris if he was called up. When he was called up, he corrected himself. His father always told him confidence was more than skin-deep. He needed to believe it.
“Let’s go repair the fence,” he told Jordan. He was itching to do something—anything—useful. Fixing the fence beat waiting around and twiddling his thumbs.
When they got out to the perimeter fence, they found the hole already fixed. Whoever did it hadn’t just patched the hole, they’d replaced the entire section. Smart, because it meant there were no weak joints that would make it easier for an animal or another intruder to force their way in.
“Things run too smoothly around here,” Jordan muttered, stuffing his borrowed work gloves back into the tool bag they’d found in the machine shed.
“It was probably George. He handles all the maintenance.”
Jordan picked up a stick and threw it aimlessly. “I’d say we could go take over the security office, but the Enforcers are still there. Is there anything else we should be doing?”
“Maybe some research to see how she pegged Candice as a Were? Something circulating on blogs must have tipped her off. Unless she was just covering all the bases and got lucky.”
He pulled out his phone and shot off a group text as they walked, asking for a loaner computer since the security bui
lding was off-limits. Harris’s answer to the group pinged almost immediately, and Jackson couldn’t help but grin as he opened it.
My laptop is in my cabin, you’re welcome to it.
Before he could respond, Harris sent a follow-up to him alone.
That was an invitation to be waiting in my bed for me, by the way. And to use my laptop. Can’t wait to finish what we started.
Jackson fumbled with the phone, eager to answer, only to drop it when white-hot pain seared across his forehead.
He jumped back, his ears buzzing. The blaze on his face settled to a stinging simmer, and a beat later his hearing returned in full force. The first thing he registered was Jordan’s hysterical laughter.
Jackson’s muscles ached. He raised a shaky hand up to his forehead. The skin was blistered and hot.
“You,” Jordan wheezed out. Tears were streaming and he could barely stand upright. He propped his hands on his thighs. “You—the fence. And bzzzzt!”
Jackson followed Jordan’s gaze over his shoulder. The electric fence. He’d walked right into it.
“…can’t believe… texting lover boy and….”
Most of the words were unintelligible, garbled from Jordan’s laughter and gasps for air.
Jackson dove into the leaves, looking for his phone. He’d been texting Harris, and he hadn’t been paying attention. Hopefully he hadn’t fried it. God, he was never going to live this down.
Chapter Nine
“YOU handled yourself very well today, Candice. It was a scary situation, and you did everything right.”
Candice was curled into a chair, looking more like the timid kid Harris had met two weeks ago than the boisterous wolfling she’d blossomed into. Setbacks were to be expected, but it made his blood boil to think a staffer had been the one to trigger the regression. She’d spent her life trying to please others and moving from one acting job to another. She brought that same attitude into therapy, which made her a challenging patient. He’d had to set boundaries early on because she was more than willing to dive in on topics and was excellent at mirroring what he wanted to hear back at him. She’d learned it from a former agent, the person who had told her she was fat at age eight. Luckily Candice’s parents had noticed and gotten her new representation, but the damage had been done. He wished they’d gotten her into therapy back then, but now was better than never.