Illicit

by Cathy Clamp

  Other than dark red, ragged scars, it was as though she’d never been hurt. Rachel moved her arm around, flexing the muscles. She felt a single sharp twinge and that was it other than a low ache, much like the way she’d felt the previous day, after a morning spent packing. “Wow. No wonder everyone sings your praises.”

  “Speaking of singing, what do you prefer to sing?” Amber asked.

  Rachel shrugged. “R and B mostly. Older stuff. I like a lot of ’80s stuff, and some of the blues singers from the ’20s and ’30s are awesome. Crippen, Smith, Waters, Rainey, that sort of thing.”

  Rabi’s fingers were thrumming on his knee. “I get where you’re going, Amber. Rachel, have you ever noticed that when you sing, people’s moods change?”

  “They’re called the blues for a reason.” She shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose people get more mellow or sad or happy when I sing. That’s sort of the point. People are supposed to feel things.” She was getting nervous. “Wait. Are you saying I did something wrong? If so, it wasn’t intentional. I swear.”

  Liz waved her hands. “No, no. Just the opposite, in fact. I think you might be a projecting empath—that you can make people feel your mood, change their mood.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help it. The idea was so ridiculous that it was barely worth disputing. But they didn’t live here, probably hadn’t even read the reports. “I highly doubt that. If I could have projected my pain and humiliation and anger on the people who inflicted it on me just by singing, everyone in this town would be curled in a fetal ball or throwing a rope over the nearest tree to hang themselves, and I wouldn’t wake up screaming most nights.”

  To say the others in the SUV were taken aback was an understatement. “Wait,” Liz said after a few attempts to decide what to say. “Explain what you mean.”

  Lord, she didn’t want to relive it all again. The thought of it made her exhausted and depressed. “Read the reports that the Wolven agent, um, Barry Holden, wrote. He left just as you arrived. Then let me know whether you think I can project shit. If so, I’ll help you. But I haven’t even been able to help myself. That’s why I need to leave Luna Lake.”

  She looked out the darkened window and spotted Dalvin headed their way. She opened the opposite door. “Look, I’m sorry. I’d like to help, but I really want to go home now. Would that be okay?”

  The three of them looked at each other but apparently couldn’t think of a reason to keep her there. “Sure, I guess,” Liz said. “We’ll look over the reports and get back to you. Is your phone number in the file?”

  “Yeah, but phones are spotty here. Just come by the apartments. I’m in Apartment 202.” Dalvin had nearly reached the SUV, then stopped, probably held at bay by the aversion magic that felt like a vacuum. He cupped his hands to his eyes, like he couldn’t see clearly, then turned away and headed back into the Community Center. Whew.

  Rachel closed the vehicle’s door. “If you give me a ride over there now,” she said, “then you’ll know where to find me if you want me.” Anything to get away from Dalvin as fast as possible.

  “Sure,” Amber said. “I’ll drive.”

  “It’s the two-story building over on Third Street. Just two blocks down on the right.”

  Amber got out of the passenger area and got back into the car, behind the wheel. The source of Rachel’s sudden anxiety must have been apparent to the others because Liz asked quietly, “Is there a reason you’re avoiding Agent Adway?”

  The two powerful predators were watching her in a way that said they would get the truth out of her one way or the other. Was this something worth hiding? She sighed as the car began to move.

  “Yes. I grew up with him in Detroit, back when I was human. Everyone there thinks I’m dead, and really, I might as well be. I was an attack victim; my family doesn’t know anything about the Sazi, and a bunch of them would think I was evil or possessed if they knew.

  “I don’t think I could stand my mama having to choose between me and her family. I think she’d pick me. I pray she would. But it’s a lot to ask.” Tears filled her eyes. “I wish I could undo him seeing me here.”

  Rabi seemed to relax slightly; Liz sighed and leaned back in her seat.

  “Been there,” she said. “My family is also human. The Sazi gene skipped a bunch of generations. The man I always thought was my grandfather is actually my great-great-great-grandfather. He’s powerful and very long-lived.

  “When no shifters were born in several generations, people sort of forgot, except for scary stories told around the campfire. The first time I shifted was during a bad storm. I got caught outside with a tornado coming. I panicked and shifted … didn’t even remember doing it. I tore apart a bunch of buildings, collapsed the water tower right onto the school!

  “Thankfully, Wolven and the Council came and made everyone think the tornado did the damage. Only my parents knew why I really went to live with my grandfather—the rest of the family thought I got a scholarship to graduate school in England.” She paused and shook her head, then shrugged.

  “All these years later, I still haven’t told them. I just can’t.”

  “Me too,” Rabi said, nodding. “Even though my family are shifters, they’re American. The Iranian part of the family is much more in touch with their ‘inner tiger.’” Rachel could almost see the quotes around the phrase.

  “It’s a whole different world, one that I can’t bring home to California. My family are absolute left coast liberals. People killing each other over how a deer was split…? Totally beyond their comprehension. That my sister was an outcast and might be put to death in my grandparents’ village because she has a stripe of orange hair when she’s in human form? They’d be appalled on Rodeo Drive.

  “We’ll keep you two apart and figure something out. You should be able to live your life how you want.”

  Having them be so receptive to her worries lifted a huge weight off her chest. She thanked them earnestly. The conversation about attack victims had brought something else to mind, so she said, “Miss Sutton?”

  The mediator smiled. “Call me Liz. Miss Sutton is my aunt. It makes me feel weird.”

  “Thanks,” Rachel said, then went on. “You said that the war twenty years ago was the cause of the dispute.”

  Liz nodded.

  “Well … Anica told me out in the woods that her family had only been shifters for a decade.”

  “Hmm.” Liz’s brow dropped and her head tilted. Still no scent, which was unnerving. Liz should have smelled of rich, warm soil—like the community garden when Rachel was growing up—and the inside of a candy store. “Nooo, I don’t think so. The Council did a lot of investigation before deciding to become involved. Maybe Anica just meant that she’d only been a shifter for a decade.”

  “Maybe.” Rachel wasn’t convinced.

  The darkened window between the front and rear seats started to roll down and Amber said, “We’re coming up on the apartments. Seems like there’s some sort of commotion ahead.”

  CHAPTER 5

  How could Rachel have disappeared so quickly? Everyone he’d asked had said she’d left the building with the mediator, but when he went to look for them, they were nowhere to be found. When he’d gone toward the road, he’d felt the effects of an aversion spell near the SUVs. Rachel might have been shielded by that. Whoever had set the spell was damned good; Dalvin hadn’t been able to see or hear anything beyond it, couldn’t even get close to the vehicle.

  “Dalvin!” Alek Siska called from behind him. The new agent was a bit of an odd wolf, Dalvin thought. Very gung-ho, very law and order, but completely untrained. He’d said he was eager to learn, but Dalvin could already tell that he didn’t always listen to what he was told.

  Maybe Claire would be able to straighten him out. Rumor had it she’d been trained by the Wolven chief himself. If that was true, she ought to be able to bring Siska to heel. The rumor also said he was mated to her, which meant he would probably listen to her.

  �
��What’s up?” he said, turning toward the other man.

  “Found a room for you.” He introduced the tall, pale, slender man beside him, who smelled of owl. “This is Scott Clayton. He’s got two beds and will put you up. Grab your gear and we’ll head over.”

  “Are the delegates settled? How are we setting up guard posts?”

  “The Kasun alphas will be staying at my old family home,” Alek explained. “It’s literally a fort, easy to defend, and when it’s locked down, it can keep out just about anything. The Petrovic alphas will be staying across town at the principal’s quarters, which is also one of the town’s original forts. Both are heavy-duty log structures with steel reinforcements.

  “The younger bears are staying with individual townspeople, all in the same apartment complex. I live there and know every entrance and exit and every quirk of the place. It’ll be secure by the time we’re done.”

  Impressed by both the content of the report and Alek’s delivery, Dalvin nodded. “Great.” Trying to sound casual, he asked, “Do you guys know a local girl named Rachel Washington?”

  Alek and Scott looked at each other. After a beat, Scott answered hesitantly, “Yeah. Why?”

  He shrugged. “She looks like someone I used to know.” Was that offhand enough?

  Apparently not. Alek responded with a touch too much force, and the two men’s scents were as suspicious and protective as if they were related to Rachel. “We’ve known her since grade school, and since this is the first time you’ve been here, I’m thinking you’re mistaken.”

  So much for that approach. They were lying to protect her. He tried to wave it off. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Dalvin smiled, doing his best to look satisfied. After a few moments of slightly awkward silence, he said, “Let me grab my duffel. After we drop it off at Scott’s place, we can locate Tamir and find out what our watch schedule is.”

  Once again, the two locals looked at each other before commenting, making him wonder if they were part of a bound pack that mind-spoke. Alek finally responded, “Sure. Let’s do that.”

  The aversion spell was gone from the area around the SUVs and so was one of the vehicles. Dalvin retrieved his duffel, weapons cases, camera case, and a stack of documents about the delegates from the SUV closest to the Community Center. Neither the Wolven agent nor Dalvin’s new host offered to help; they watched with amusement in their eyes and citrus in their scent as he juggled everything. When he had the load as balanced as possible, the other two set a blistering pace toward the apartments. Determined not to let their attitude bother him, Dalvin followed as best as he could.

  In less than a minute he’d nearly tripped over the camera case half a dozen times. Alek and Scott burst out laughing and stopped walking, then strolled back and relieved him of some of his baggage, leaving him with just the duffel and his paperwork. Dalvin laughed too, and held up his fist. Alek bumped it.

  “I thought I was supposed to razz you as the newbie,” Dalvin said.

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s still coming,” Alek replied with a chuckle. “I had to get my licks in while I could.”

  Their amusement was short-lived as screams and growls erupted from the buildings not far ahead—one of which, Dalvin assumed, was their destination.

  All three men dropped what they were holding and ran toward the commotion until a crowd of people blocked the way. Dalvin pushed through the mass of bodies, anticipating the worst. He discovered Larissa locked in a hair-pulling match with the younger Petrovic daughter, Anica. Clumps of thick brown hair littered the ground and mud splattered Larissa’s white leggings. Some of the splotches were shoe shaped—Anica had apparently been kicking her.

  “Let go of me, you Milošević lap pet!” Larissa roared. People covered their ears and birds scattered from trees into the darkening sky. The cold north wind carried the scents of anger and fear, but it was hard to sort out who was feeling what.

  Anica threw the taller woman to the ground and pounced on her, slamming her head into the dirt. “Unwashed raja! How dare you spread lies about me!”

  Taller and with more mass, Larissa rolled the Serbian bear onto her back and started to pound her head against the ground.

  Dalvin fought not to sneeze from the emotional turmoil bombarding his nose. He grabbed Larissa and pulled her off Anica. “Ladies! Stop fighting!”

  Anica jumped to her feet with the ease of a trained gymnast. Launching herself at the now restrained Bosnian, she got her hands around Larissa’s slender throat and started to choke her. Dalvin twisted his prisoner away, but not before Anica spat on the taller woman and snarled, “Where is the nearest willow tree? This stable girl needs to be put in her place.”

  Larissa let out a roar of rage; the raspberries and honey of her natural scent took on a sickly-sweet, burned odor. The sound shook the trees, sending even more birds into flight, and made Dalvin’s head hurt and his arms vibrate.

  Anica dove in again, landing a solid punch to Larissa’s ribs. Larissa responded by kicking out sideways, catching her opponent in the stomach and sending her flying backward. Anica landed hard, then sprang to her feet and came after Larissa again.

  Trying to protect Larissa, Dalvin kept twisting and turning her away from Anica’s assault, which meant that every other punch or kick hit him instead.

  Where were Alek and the rest of the Wolven agents? Why was nobody helping him?

  Someone finally pushed through the crowd and grabbed Anica by the shoulders, and somehow Dalvin was not surprised that his rescuer was Rachel.

  “Anica, knock it off!” she hissed. “This isn’t going to help you or your family.”

  She pulled the black bear away, easily holding Anica in place. Dalvin realized that though Rachel was slight, the muscles of her shoulders and arms were solid as tree limbs. Someone must have healed her arm, because he saw brand-new, shiny scar tissue all down one biceps.

  Once the women were several feet apart and no longer actively trying to attack each other, Dalvin took a moment to catch his breath, more tired than he’d expected.

  “What is wrong with you two?” he said angrily. “Who started this?”

  He wasn’t surprised when the women responded simultaneously, “She did!”

  The strong odor of bear musk hit his nose like a wall as the two alpha males and their mates burst through the crowd.

  “What is happening here?” Zarko Petrovic put his hands on his wide hips and glowered at the young women. Neither seemed impressed. “Anica, answer me!”

  The dark-haired Serbian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dalvin saw her muscles relax slightly in Rachel’s grip, but Rachel didn’t relax, and he was glad. Realizing she wasn’t going to be freed, Anica settled for raising her chin proudly.

  “The Bosnian delegate said even if we somehow managed to bribe the mediator into giving us a meter or two of land, the ground would be forever barren from the blood of all the innocents we killed. Then she called us lap pets of General Milošević.”

  He’d heard the last part but not the rest. Ouch.

  Petrovic let out a slow, rumbling growl that made the nearby townspeople back up slowly. He stared hard at Larissa, then turned to the head of the Kasun family. “How do you plan to discipline your omega for this insult?”

  The elder Kasun was chuckling lightly, though his scent said he was furious. Who was he angry at? Dalvin wondered. “It was a good curse. Clever and inspired. What did your omega say in return?”

  Larissa tried to lunge forward, but Dalvin held her firmly. “She called me a blackhead! I am not! I am purebred no matter the color of my skin! Nor am I an unwashed raja from some small village. I live in a city! If you can find a willow tree in this forest, lead me to it. We’ll see who is hanging from it in the morning!”

  Petrovic stifled an amused snort. “It seems that our omegas do not care for each other.”

  Dalvin was trying to figure out what he was missing in the conversation—what was making the alphas smile? Larissa said somethi
ng that froze the expressions on the faces of both males. “Krvne osvete!”

  Too many scents burst into the air to sort out: rage, hate, fear, joy. Joy concerned him, and he tried to trace its source. Someone was happy that the others were angry, and that might signal a problem. But he couldn’t figure out who it was. The townspeople all looked worried, and the bears were trying to show no emotion, as if they were sitting at a table at the World Poker Tournament.

  Councilman Kuric stepped out of the crowd, his hands in the air. “Stop. Before anyone says another word, just stop.”

  The doctor and the mediator were right behind him. Liz nodded to Dalvin and Rachel, and they released the two omegas. Amber began to skillfully separate the families, using both words and magic. Rabi went to talk to Mustafa’s sloth, edging them toward one of the black SUVs now parked nearby. They hadn’t been there a moment ago, Dalvin realized. Maybe that’s why there had been a delay in helping him—no one was around.

  Liz addressed the watching crowd. “I would appreciate it if you could return to your business. I know this is fascinating, but these families need to be alone right now.” She lightly shooed people away with her hands.

  Despite a little grumbling, the spectators—about twenty residents of Luna Lake—slowly began to disperse. Dalvin noticed Scott walking away with his bags and headed after him, but Tamir grabbed his arm. Where the hell had the supervising Wolven agent been when the fight had broken out?

  The older bear hissed in his ear. “Where do you think you’re going? Didn’t you hear Delegate Grebo? She just declared a blood feud!”

  “Sorry. I don’t speak Bosnian. Besides, what does that even mean? Aren’t they already in a blood feud?”