by Cathy Clamp
“Hey, Rachel,” Denis said, “what’s happening in town? Nobody’s come to visit.”
Oh. Should she tell Denis that Ray had told everyone not to visit, so Denis would get a taste of being really alone? The new chief felt that the teenager had gotten too accustomed to people stepping in to save his butt when he got in trouble. Alek, his older brother, had still been healing and not around, but Rachel knew it had been driving the rest of the family nuts to let Denis stew in jail.
She agreed that he needed some tough love, so she’d stayed away, but she didn’t imagine Denis had found it easy to be so isolated.
“Well, you’ve been doing a fine job of pissing everyone off. What did you expect?”
There was a long pause—was he sulking? Finally he answered, his voice small and quiet. The scent that barely rose above the fresh paint and new varnish was the dusty smell of shame.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m just angry at everything. Does everyone totally hate me?”
“Bro, nobody hates you. But the fact that you did something as stupid as going back to tag the bathrooms after you’d just gotten tapped for doing the same thing by the sheriff … well, a lot of people have been trying to keep you out of trouble. They’re just really disappointed you don’t seem to even care.”
She could smell shame mingling with anger now.
“Even now, you’re all nobody’s visiting me instead of asking how other people are. You haven’t even asked if Alek is getting well, if Kristy and Darrell are recovering from being kidnapped, or whether Tammy came out of her coma. Hell, you haven’t even asked about me, and I’m right here. You’re just asking about you. Why would anyone come see you when they know you don’t care about them?
His voice was sullen. “You don’t know what it’s like to be human in this stupid town.”
Rachel let out a bark of a laugh. Wow! Was he really that clueless? “Denis, have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I’ve been the Omega for the last five years. I’d give nearly anything to be part of the protected class of humans. Hell, they threw me in here because I’m so desperate to leave before the next full moon that I tried to sneak out before Wolven could catch me.”
“Yeah, but at least you shift. I’m the defective one in the family.”
Sitting down on the surprisingly comfortable bunk, Rachel stared at the tiny metal sink and toilet attached to the opposite wall. He considered being human defective? No way she could fix that, though she should try to remember to tell someone about Denis’s attitude when she got out … if she lived long enough to talk to anyone, that is. She sighed and very deliberately changed the subject, hoping he would follow her lead.
“What do you want to do when you graduate high school? It’s just next summer, right?”
Denis snorted. “What is there to do? It’s not like I can leave town until I’m twenty-one. Alek will be gone probably in a year. So will Dani and most everyone else my age, headed to college. I suppose I’ll just hang out at the house and get stoned a lot.”
So much for a change of subject. She wanted to beat her head against the wall. “Denis, really? What could that possibly do but get you in more trouble? The whole world is open to humans. You could buckle down and study, maybe get a scholarship for college.”
“You can’t possibly understand how hard it is here.” He really did sound defeated.
She wanted so much to tell him just how hard life as the Omega was. But she and Scott had agreed not to tell the younger kids what asses their parents were. Because maybe Scott was right. Hopefully, it was just the mayor and the chief who were in on it.
Maybe. But she doubted it.
* * *
Outside the police station, Dalvin slid his satellite phone into his pants pocket. He’d gotten the phone and clothes out of a bag in his car, dressed quickly, and taken a position near the station’s front door. Then he’d called home, but no one answered, so he left a message for his folks.
He always tried to let them know when he was back in the States. Wolven had him traveling so much that they worried.
Spotting the police chief walking down the street toward him, Dalvin realized his outfit—black pants and a thick chamois shirt—nearly matched the chief’s uniform, except for the insignias of Ray Vasquez’s office.
“Hey, Chief, do you have a few minutes?”
The man paused, took off his trooper-style hat, and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He put the hat back on, then hitched up his utility belt, which looked well worn and fit him like a custom job. Dalvin realized he was watching a performance, that Ray’s gestures, like his apparently easy stance, were a carefully constructed lie. The chief’s weight was centered; if he had to, he could move easily in any direction. It was the way Dalvin himself was standing.
“Not really,” Ray said. “But if you want to walk with me to the town hall, you’re welcome to and we can talk.” Dalvin nodded and fell into step beside the other man. “You’re Adway, right? Wolven? And—” The chief took a quick sniff. “An owl?”
“Right on all counts, Chief Vasquez. And you’re a jungle cat, but I don’t recognize the variety. Doesn’t smell very snow-friendly, though.” The snow hadn’t started here yet, but it wouldn’t be long before the tall pine trees that ringed the town would be dusted with white. The town was nestled in the valley between several mountains, so when the snow came, it would likely be deep.
“Panther. My grandparents were from Belize, and no … snow isn’t my happy place. You’re not a species I know either,” he added.
“Eagle owls, originally from Mali, long time ago. Tell me a little about the town, since I just got here. How many residents? Who are the dangerous shifters we need to watch for? Who are the alphas in command?”
Vasquez let out a sharp laugh. “The alphas in command were the dangerous shifters to watch out for. Van Monk was our mayor and Lenny Gabriel was the police chief. They’re dead now. I wish I could say I helped kick ’em out, but I was unknowingly part of the problem.
“Monk and Gabriel did an illegal binding on most of the townspeople. We had no idea our thoughts were being influenced. It’s embarrassing as hell, and I’m feeling lucky that I didn’t get put down when it all came out. We’re damned lucky the Council got suspicious.
“It was your fellow agent, Claire Evans, who uncovered the whole scandal. One of our own, Alek Siska, helped. You probably haven’t met them yet.” Ray gave a rueful laugh. “Once the news came out, a lot of people just up and left. Went back to where they lived before the cure or moved somewhere completely new. Only about three hundred souls left in Luna Lake now.”
A gust of chilled wind hit Dalvin in the face and he coughed. There were three hundred people in the town? Where was everyone? He hadn’t seen more than a handful. Were they all hiding from the invaders—from Dalvin and the others who had come in for the peace talks? Was that why the place looked so deserted, with no one on the streets?
“So you got promoted to Second? Who is the new Alpha?”
Vasquez picked up a discarded soda can, as if that was a routine part of his job. He dumped the remaining cola on the ground before tossing the can, underhand, into an open-top fifty-gallon recycling barrel at the end of the block. His scent was both annoyed and embarrassed.
“Damned kids have no regard for the environment. We don’t have an Alpha right now. Or, at least, we haven’t picked a formal one yet.”
Dalvin couldn’t help but chuckle. “I wasn’t aware you got to pick. Usually, the next alpha just sort of walks in and takes over.”
“Actually, we do pick,” Vasquez replied. There was no deception in his smell, just clean cat fur. “The pack Alpha is whoever is elected mayor. Before Monk took over, the alphas of various species took turns leading the town. Right now, because of all the drama, nobody’s really interested.” He put a hand in his pocket and started to jingle some change.
“Well, that’s not quite right. Some of those who are interes
ted, the rest of us don’t really want in charge. Sort of like national elections after a scandal. People are suspicious of anyone who wants the job.”
Okay, that was useful. “Which alphas want the job? Maybe Wolven can do a little vetting of the possible problems for you.”
That made Vasquez stop and purse his lips. “A Wolven vetting? Well, that would be useful. I don’t really have the technology, or the records, to do that. When the town was founded, Luna Lake took in whoever showed up on the buses. There were almost a thousand people living here then.” Dalvin whistled at the number, and Ray grinned. “Times have sure changed,” he said.
“Lenny and Van probably had everyone’s history memorized. That’s my guess, because other than school and arrest records, there sure weren’t any files I could find after they died. So I don’t know what Van and Lenny knew, even though I worked with both of them.”
“How are the human authorities in the area taking the deaths?” That could be a problem; they didn’t need a lot of county-or state-level non-Sazi authorities watching while a variety of obvious non-Americans traipsed around town.
His question caused a small chuckle from Vasquez “The truth is always easiest. The report says several wild animals chewed on them, including at least one cougar and a couple of wolves. The tricky part was that they were both apparently naked in the snow when they were attacked.”
Dalvin struggled not to laugh.
“Lot of raised eyebrows from the first responders,” Ray went on. “I had no choice but to call it in. Like you say, public officials can’t just disappear off the face of the earth. I decided not to even try to explain the lack of clothes. Don’t ask, don’t tell, y’know? I didn’t have to pretend I was a little shocky after the day’s events. There was so damned much blood out there, it looked like the set of a slasher film.”
The chief looked Dalvin square in the face. “You’ve probably noticed no one’s exactly rushing to welcome you. My people are nervous and scared. Lots of Wolven and Council people around lately, more than most of us have ever seen. I told folks to stay out of the way, out of sight if possible, until the meeting tomorrow night. But you’ve got to know the whole town is damned curious about this peace talk thing. Could you really find no place better for it than Luna Lake? Haven’t we been through enough?”
“I wasn’t part of the decision-making process,” Dalvin said—which was the truth, though he’d heard much of the discussion. “I can tell you there were other towns in the running. My opinion is Luna Lake wouldn’t have been chosen except for the thing with your alphas. The Council wanted some extra eyes checking out the area.”
A sour expression darkened the other man’s face. “I suspected as much. Not a surprise, but it’s an annoyance. It’s tough to try to get life back to normal with all this crap going on.” He took notice of something behind Dalvin and clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, there’s the snake representative. I need to go bend his ear. Let me know when you want to look at the town records. I could use some help getting some backstories on a few people.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Chief.” Dalvin watched Vasquez trot diagonally across the street to the town hall. Ahmad was just exiting the SUV, now dressed in a suit instead of his formal robes. Still out of place for the small-town setting, but not nearly as noticeable if a human happened along. The aversion spell should keep everyone but thrill seekers away, but there were always a few people who ignored the tickle at the back of their neck and leaped into danger.
Maybe he should do a flyover before the delegates arrived. The air was so clean and thin up here that it was a pleasure to fly.
Deciding to check in first, Dalvin was swiping his finger across the screen of his satellite phone when he smelled Tamir behind him. The senior agent grabbed Dalvin’s hand, looked at the phone, and let out a disgusted noise.
“Four digits? You have a four-digit passcode on a Wolven secure phone? What is wrong with you, Adway? Do you not care about security at all, or are you just stupid?”
Dalvin’s teeth ground together in reflex. Don’t rise to the bait. Instead of yelling or yanking his hand away, he said calmly, “Wolven phones rotate frequencies every eight minutes, Tamir. They use a dedicated satellite. And I’m pretty sure Luna Lake, Washington, isn’t a hotbed of terrorist activity.”
On top of which, the four “digits” weren’t digits at all. They were characters from four different languages—and you had to double-tap the space bar when the keyboard popped up to get the other languages to load. Even if someone figured out that the four characters spelled out his family’s surname from before they immigrated to America, they still had to know what languages he was using and in what order. Dalvin wasn’t worried about his phone being hacked, though he wasn’t going to say any of that to Tamir.
“None of that helps if they get hold of your phone, Adway,” the bear shifter said. “Download the biometric software from the Council site. Today.” He growled the last word.
Was it worth it to argue? Part of Dalvin wanted to, but he knew this wasn’t the time. He let out a slow breath, closed his eyes, and said, as agreeably as possible, “Fine. I’ll do that.”
Before Tamir could vent whatever other complaints he had—and he always had things to complain about—the sound of helicopters filled the air. So much for a flyover. It was time to get back to work.
CHAPTER 3
“Okay, what do you want to hear next?” Rachel called. Marilyn had propped open the door to the row of cells so she could hear Rachel sing without having to leave her post. It had been a good way to pass the time last night, once they were finished bitching about the former mayor and making predictions about the next one.
Sleeping in the cell hadn’t been too bad—the mattress was reasonably comfortable and Rachel had woken up screaming only once, when she’d accidentally bumped into the bars of the cell. Denis had woken her then, just like he used to at the Williams house, by rapping a rhythm on the wall, like a happy drumbeat, and repeating her name as if it were a child’s song.
This morning had been tough, though. She was starting to get twitchy about being in captivity. Breakfast had been late and Mary had been distracted and nervous, unwilling to stay and chat. The jail’s phones had been ringing nearly nonstop since a second set of helicopters had arrived, carrying more delegates.
“Just a sec,” Marilyn said as the emergency line rang—it had a more piercing ring than the regular line, Rachel had learned the previous evening, and Marilyn or Ray jumped to answer it. “Nine one one, what’s your emergency?”
Last night, Fred the postmaster had called that number to say his wife hadn’t made it home from delivering meals to the jail and he was worried, with all the strangers in town. Ray had gone out to look for Mary and found her at the diner. She’d stopped in to visit and had forgotten to call home.
“Marvin,” Marilyn said after listening for a bit, “this is an emergency number. You can’t tie up the line asking about the delegates. There’ll be a meeting tonight.” A pause. “No, Marvin, seeing a snake in town isn’t an emergency either. He’s a councilman and he’s been here for days. Nobody’s died yet.” Another pause. “Yes, the snakes get a seat on the Council too.” Finally, she sounded fed up. “Marvin, stop. Just stop. Wolven is here to protect the delegates. They’re not here to snoop around your house. Unless … you don’t have anything to hide, do you?”
The sound of the receiver being set down was accompanied by Marilyn’s throaty chuckle. “That did it. He’ll start digging holes behind his house to bury his Penthouse collection pretty soon.”
The image made Rachel chuckle too.
Denis snorted and said, “Idiot.”
Somehow overhearing Marilyn’s conversation had put Rachel in a better mood. “Pick a song. Either of you.”
A clanging came from Denis’s cell. It sounded like he was kicking at the bars, maybe tapping them while lying on the bed. “How about that old one about people keeping their noses out of your busi
ness?”
“Oh, yeah! ‘Tain’t Nobody’s Business.’ I like that one. Do you know Bessie Smith sang that nearly a hundred years ago?” It did sort of fit the present situation too. Rachel took a second to get the tune in her head, then started to sing.
Her mother had always told her she sounded like Bessie. Rachel didn’t agree, except on this song. “‘There ain’t nothing I can do or nothing I can say, that folks don’t criticize me. But I’m goin’ to do just as I want to anyway.’”
She let her frustration flow into the notes, sinking so deeply into the song that she didn’t hear the door to the station open. Didn’t hear the beginning of the conversation that followed. Didn’t tune in until she heard Marilyn’s tone change, becoming both firmer and more upset.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re a councilman, but you can’t just barge in and … hey, stop!”
The wave of power that preceded the councilman’s appearance was immediately recognizable. Rachel backed up until she was in a corner of the cell, as far from the bars as possible. It was like she was ten years old again, locked in a feces-laden cave, waiting to be raked open by sharp talons. She did her best to own her bird form, but becoming Sazi would never be something she wouldn’t blame on the snakes.
Ahmad was dressed in an impeccable gray suit that had a sort of sheen. His hair, no longer covered by the keffiyeh, was cropped close to his head and was the same coal black as his brows. She supposed some people would consider him handsome, but to her, he was still a snake. He pulled in his power as he got closer to the bars; it was as though he was full human. But his magic was still there, still powerful. At a gesture from him, Rachel felt herself rise to her feet. She tried to hold still, not let him move her like a puppet, but it was like trying to hold off the pull of the moon. Her motion was barely jerky as he forced her to walk to the front of the cell and thrust her arm out between the bars. Though she was nearly kissing the bars, she managed to clench her fist and tighten her arm muscles, fighting his attempt to make her raise her hand.