It must be noted that there is a recessive form of the ability in which the pherein is able to generate and manipulate the natural electrical current of the body rather than hormones. These phereins were not discovered by the Stewards and other non-pherein supernatural beings until the advent of the electronic age. Prior to this time, they could more easily be isolated until they could control themselves.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trish and Liesel get into Trish’s old T-Top Camaro. Like most vehicles in their part of the world, the finish was dull, the clear coat being long gone, but the finish appeared otherwise intact. Of course you couldn’t tell that without taking a much closer look because of the thick layer of dust coating it.
After a harrowing ride due to Trish’s driving and not the poor quality of the roads, they parked out side of the mayor’s office such as it was. Someone had boarded up the windows and swept up any glass.
They went inside to find a thickly built dark-skinned woman sitting at the desk making notes. She looked up when they entered. “You must be Liesel,” she said with a husky drawl to her voice. Then she stood and offered her hand. She wore a casual sun dress but white gloves like a woman from the 1950s might wear.
Liesel walked further into the room to give the woman’s hand a firm shake. “Indeed I am,” she said.
“I am Bianca King,” the woman told her. “Nice to see you, Patricia,” she added with a nod in Trish’s direction.
“You too, ma’am” Trish replied.
Bianca returned her full attention to Liesel. “I am Trudie’s right-hand woman these days. I don’t handle everything of course and no sensitive Stewardship matters but repeat face-to-face interactions with outside humans are sometimes better done by folks who age a little bit more regular like,” she said.
Liesel smiled. “I can see how that would be. Thank you for what you do. Is there anything not related to…” she gestured toward the boarded up windows. “I am the Steward in my grandmother’s absence,” she revealed.
Bianca shook her head and put her right hand to her right hip and her left hand on the desk for support. “Your mother should be here. You are too young to take on these burdens. Once they start, there is no reprieve and sure as shit everyone will forget how young you really are,” she said.
“Have you met my mother?” asked Liesel.
“No. Trudie said her daughter Ingrid, your mother, was not to be contacted and left it at that,” said Bianca. “Miss Patricia has more colorful language on the matter,” she said.
Trish snorted indelicately.
“I bet she did,” said Liesel. “My mother has a disgust for all Stewards, including herself, and refuses to participate in anything to do with non-humans of any species. She only allowed contact with my grandmother so that she wouldn’t have to explain what we are herself. She only gets in touch with anyone if she needs help with verifying her current identity or some other legal issue. She has a less than ingratiating personality,”
“Mm-hmmm” and a pursed mouth was Bianca’s reaction. Then she sighed. “Well, I may as well make your burden lighter while I can. The only human business we have pending is keeping the gas drilling away from our territories,” she said.
Liesel clapped her hands together one time. “Right. Is there anything you need from me that will not wait a few days?” she asked Bianca.
“No, sugar. There are some county meetings on the issue in the next week or so but we have time,” Bianca answered.
“Good. I am going to meet with everyone in small groups, do some old-fashioned home calls. I would be grateful if you could keep on doing all that you do in the mean time,” said Liesel. “For the time being I am saying my grandmother took an unscheduled trip to the canyons or somewhere and I am keeping watch on the family interests while she does so. Outsiders should not be aware of John Dixon or Cody Miller, let alone wondering about there whereabouts at all.”
“Got it,” said Bianca sitting back down at the desk.
“Oh, there is something that I need to bring to your attention, Bianca,” said Liesel. “A couple of guys claiming to be United States Marshalls showed up at the ranch house this morning. Said they got a tip about a dangerous man running around. Let’s keep an eye out for them. They didn’t seem like the trustworthy types but I don’t know what they are after yet. No sense in giving them something real to chase.”
“Sure thing, you got names and descriptions of these two?” said Bianca.
“Carlos Martinez, about five feet nine inches, thin, hispanic, dark hair, dark eyes. Malachi Grimsley, about six feet two inches, muscular build, white with dark hair and green eyes. Both had ugly as sin government suits and those little ID wallets they flip open on TV shows all the time but no fancy badges. Drove a generic black sports utility vehicle. I wasn’t thinking and didn’t get the license plate number but it was definitely government issued,” Liesel told her.
“They were slick bastards,” Trish chimed in. “No changes in their breathing or their heartrate but they sure did stink of lies.” The therian wrinkled her nose for emphasis.
“I will spread the word through local channels about the outsiders and that you will be coming around to visit,” said Bianca.
“I already can’t get by without you,” Liesel told her with a smile.
“Flattery will get you everywhere young lady,” said Bianca with a small laugh that turned into an all out guffaw from the belly when Trish couldn’t hold in a snorting laugh.
Lisel and Trish turned to go. Before they were fully out of the door, Bianca called out, “I have ordered new windows but these old republic buildings are oddly sized, I had to get them custom ordered. It might be a couple of weeks before we see the light again,” she said.
“Not surprised,” said Liesel. “Oh, can you see if there are spare keys to my Grams’ car and this office somewhere. There must be. Thanks.”
Trish and Liesel opened the doors to the Camaro - no one bothered to lock cars in this town, only at home to keep wayward teens from borrowing them for night time joy rides - when Trish paused. “Where to next interim boss lady?” she asked over the roof of the low slung car.
Liesel slid on a pair of sunglasses and then dropped herself into the passenger side bucket seat. When both doors were shut she said, “It’s been a good decade since I’ve seen your mangy family. Let’s make the Dixon clan our first stop on the home tour. We can reminisce and talk to little Travis.”
Trish grinned and threw the car into reverse, the tires squealing as she sped out away from Main Street and making Liesel contemplate the intelligence of not going to the next town or two over to get herself a vehicle first. She loved speed and could appear to be a bit reckless to others but that was when she was in control, she trusted her own skill after all. Trish may have animal like reflexes as a Therian, but that wasn’t necessarily reassuring while she was in the act of driving. Although Liesel did continually repeat that fact as a personal calming mantra until Trish slowed down to approach the gate at the road entrance to the Dixon family property holdings. It was heavily secured to deter illegal hunting. Many a therian has lost relatives to hunters who said they had seen a fast moving animal in the woods or on the prairie and claim that they fired their weapons in fear for their life from a sick bear or wild dog.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Therianthropes are the primary charges of any local Steward. As a race, they are highly visible and reactive, and the most likely to come to human attention. As such, the Steward may find herself spending most of her energies calming and restraining local therians. If she is not able to maintain such a presence, she will find that she is spending her energies on legal and financial matters required to cover up brash Therian activity. In Taxonomic language, the Canidae Family is dominant in the Therianthrope Order, in North America. Second to the Canidae with one third of the numbers are is the Felidae Family of Therianthropes. It is the official position of the Council of Stewards that all Therianthropes fall into these two families
whatever Genus or Species they claim to be. Some Stewards have reported that they have met some Therians that wish to be classified differently but the Council feels this is a matter of culture and not science. The felidae are more agile and better hunters but breed in much smaller numbers, more on par with modern humans, typically only one or two offspring. The canidae breed more heavily, like humans before the migration to the cities, having larger family structures and five or six children per pair. They have stronger senses and are well organized and can overcome an opponent with numbers.
Therianthropes are both similar and dissimilar to the human pop culture conception of werewolves or shape shifters. The closest approximation is that of the Wolf Man figure. Humans transforming completely into known animal species or possessing of two so-called souls is fanciful imaginings. Therians exhibit largely human DNA, as do pherein types of super-humans and Stewards - barring our male issue - however, they posses a genetic mutation that allows them to spontaneously develop new hair, nail, skin, teeth, and musculature. Their human forms also have heightened senses as their internal structure more closely resembles that of their more animal like form. There is no tie to the moon or magic. The trigger for the exaggerated growth and extended life span seems to be the hormonal changes of puberty. These same hormones make them most dangerous during times of high emotional disturbance (rage) or natural physical change (pregnancy). Thankfully, the pain associated with growing the new physical form and shedding the old one will often inhibit exhibition of the process itself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Dixon family’s property holdings were among the largest in the state for private ownership. They also happened to be bordered by other Therian family holdings. The therians of Zell bought large adjoining swaths of land so that they could shift into their animal forms and hunt small game or just run and enjoy nature without danger of being hunted by poachers or shot by neighboring farmer skirting the law to protect his livestock and thus his financial interests.
Trish used a remote control device to open the gate and they slowly followed a single lane paved road deeper onto the property until they reached the end of the tree line and it opened up to prairie. A large compound came into view. The main multi story building had a garage or, more accurately, a transportation stable large enough to put a multi family home in. Liesel knew they used it to house an RV, a small bus, boats and four wheelers in addition to cars and trucks. The big house as they called it was for the main Dixon family, for hosting guests and for supporting clan gatherings. It had not only a host of bed and bath suites but also a commercial kitchen and small medical clinic. The local therian children also went to elementary school there. The town funded a middle school and high school in a building off of the state highway with the help from an anonymous donor on paper but the Bohm Family Trust in reality. The other canid-type therians had smaller homes dotted around the landscape. The feline type therians had the territory to the south and orphaned or random species types managed the territory to the east. None of those could e seen from this deep within the Dixon property.
Trish parked her car in front of the roundabout and she and Liesel climbed out. The wide double doors on the front opened from within as they approached.
“Memaw,” Trish yelled out, running up the steps and throwing her arms around a figure just inside the doorway.
When the women finally separated, Liesel got a good look at Pearl Dixon, the matriarch and head bitch of the Dixon clan and affiliated canid-type therianthropes. She was of average height for a woman and in excellent shape for a woman of any age, let alone a great-grandmother. Therians if they ascribed to right living anyway, had a slightly longer than typical human life span and maintained their health farther into old age. Her hair, pinned up in a Gibson girl style bun was battleship grey and quite a striking contrast to her whiskey colored eyes. She was wearing a pale blue cotton shirt waist dress and a pair of old flip flops. She subtly smelled the air as Liesel approached.
“Mrs. Dixon,” said Liesel. “Thank you for seeing me on short notice.”
The woman inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Of course, you are our steward in Trudie’s… absence, and our Trish has assured us you are as committed to finding our people.”
“Yes, Ma’am, the Trustees prefer to keep it in the family when they can. I must admit to hoping it is indeed a temporary promotion on my part. I was anticipating Grams having another 50 years of service to get me up to speed,” said Liesel formally out of habit.
Pearl merely looked at her blandly.
“Alpha, my only plan is get our people back and keep anyone else from hurting this town or it’s residents. I’m not a trained Steward, and don’t know all of the rules or nuances of the position, I’m a granddaughter taught to love the small town of her childhood,” she said honestly. She didn’t have the knowledge or will to lie to the woman and being open and readable would get her farther into the old wolf’s good graces anyhow.
Pearl eyed Liesel openly and sniffed the air. “Okay girls, enough lettin’ the bugs in. Most of the families are inside,” said Pearl as if the three of them had just been chatting casually on the front stoop.
Pearl turned and walked down a long hall with a staircase on the left and several doors along the right. Trish followed and was then followed by Liesel. Liesel tried to surreptitiously get a better look at the inside of the heart of the clan compound but none of the doors were open as she passed by. The hall ended into an opening into an over sized great room that was full to the brim with therians and they were all focused on her as if she were a strange new creature. It was intimidating to say the least, even to someone invited in as a friend who had been alone with therians before. Almost in unison they sniffed the air, their heads canted slightly to one side or the other.
Liesel froze in the entrance to the room but did not avert her gaze to the floor. She wasn’t stupid but she wasn’t weak either. No one growled and Liesel took that as a good sign.
Pearl cleared her throat and all eyes snapped to her, even the small children. Pearl walked up to Liesel and put a hand on her shoulder. “Liesel is Trudie’s granddaughter and heir as Steward. Everyone will work with her on any task she asks of them. Getting our alpha back or getting justice are our only concern,” she said, her hand and overall presence seemed to emanate heat like a living radiator unit at Liesel’s side. “Am I clear?” she asked. The air seemed to suddenly grow heavy and thick with that last question.
Again, in almost perfect unison, the therians in the room looked down to the floor, not just casting down their eyes but bending their necks to stare at the floor. “Yes, Alpha.” They said as one.
“Good,” said Pearl. Then she released Liesel’s shoulder and walked to a pair of large recliners at the opposite end of the room and took a moment to settle into the one on Liesel’s right side. The air seemed to lighten and return to normal with this transition. She waved a hand toward Liesel. “Go on Steward, ask what you need,” she said.
Liesel nodded and stepped forward a couple of paces. “I know you scoured the abduction site, the mayor’s office,” she said.
The room nodded.
“I have heard what you did not scent - fear, anger, violence, firearms - and that tells me our enemy is professional, either corporate or government and has means,” said Liesel. Several low growls sounded in the room but it was clearly directed at the mystery enemy lurking in their midst, not her, so she was not concerned. “But what did we get that I can use to find them? To track them? Anything that did not belong to our people or in that place?” she asked.
“They were human,” said a woman in the back, several nods accompanied her statement. “Not even human-ish like stewards or the body snatchers,” she continued.
A middle-aged looking man, pushed a young boy of maybe seven or eight years old forward into the center of the group and toward Liesel. “Travis scented something out of place the others didn’t catch.” The man said, then prodded little Travis in the ba
ck. “Tell the Steward boy and speak up.”
Liesel knelt down so that she did not loom over the boy and he could comfortably gather an impression of her with his senses.
“I thought stewards were old ladies,” Travis said with a faint lisp that she could see was caused by the absence of his two front teeth.
Liesel chuckled. “Usually they are. Stewards live a very long time. I was not supposed to be taking on charges yet but I need to find our people since my Grandmother Trudie can’t,” she told him.
Travis cocked his head to the side in a way that brought to mind a confused animal.
Liesel pursed her lips in thought and mimicked the tilt of his head. “Steward is a job like mayor and they are usually old ladies. Steward is also a people. Like alpha is a job and therian is a people, just mine are called the same thing instead of two different things. It can be confusing,” she said.
“So,” the boy said sound more like ‘tho’ “You are a steward Steward?”
“Travis,” the man ground out in a low, harsh voice.”
Travis turned to look at him. “What? She asked. MeMaw said to tell her whatever she asked for.” He said.
Liesel smiled kindly. “Yes, sweetie, she did. I don’t mind,” she said.
Travis lifted his chin and stuck his tongue out at the man she presumed to be his father or other close relative. The man glowered back but said nothing.
“What did you smell at the mayor’s office? What was out of place?” asked Liesel in a soft tone.
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