Roc

A Preview

Robert M. Kerns

Copyright © 2021 by Robert M. Kerns

Cover Copyright © 2021 Dolton Richards / Knightsfall Press

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means--electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise--without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any place (terrestrial, exta-solar, extra-dimensional, or other) or person (human, Magi, shifter, fae, sapient undead, or other) is unintended and purely coincidental.

Published by Knightsfall Press

PO Box 280

Mineral Wells, WV 26150

About This Book

A woman on the run. An unexpected meeting. Rising tensions.

Sloane happily worked as a farmhand for an elderly couple in Nebraska...until people arrived in blacked-out SUVs asking about a woman who turns into a giant bird. When Sloane refused to go with them, they killed her elderly employers and razed the farm to the ground. Then? They pinned the crimes on her. Sloane's been running ever since.

Karleen returns to Precious after a meeting with her sister. She's within an hour of home when a woman stumbles out of the underbrush lining the road and collapses on the yellow line. The woman whispers one word as she passes out: hunters.

There's only one thing for Karleen to do...

To Janice Miller, Carolyn “Nana” McClellan, and all the other grandmas who touch their grandchildren’s lives.

1

A light breeze blew through the cafe’s outdoor seating area, and the sun shone down from a cloudless sky, warming everything it touched. Mouth-watering scents wafted out of the cafe as staff carried drinks and food to their guests, whether inside or out. It was a busy time for the cafe, as people occupied most of their tables, and no one suspected that two of their number were not technically human.

Nadine looked across their table, taking in all the subtle changes in her sister’s demeanor and presence since she called Karleen out of the woods to help her with the abduction of her friend’s child. Her sister sat in a crowded patio of a city cafe, and she seemed at ease and relaxed. The Karleen of even three months ago would have been fidgeting and checking sight lines and sniffing the air, but now? She leaned back against her seat in a comfortable pose with her legs crossed under the table.

“Have you heard from Mom and Dad lately?” Karleen asked.

Nadine broke off from her consideration of her sister and nodded. “They’re doing well. They’re visiting Rick and his family right now; newest grandchild and all that.”

“Seriously?” Karleen asked. “How many nieces and nephews do I have now?”

“Uhm…” Nadine’s voice trailed off as she pursed her lips and started some mental math. Let’s see. There are my two. Jack’s three. Will’s four. And this one makes three for Rick. “I think twelve all told, if my math is right.”

Karleen gaped at her sister. “Twelve? Are you kidding me?”

“Sis, we’ve been out of high school for sixty years, and it only takes nine months to make a baby. Twelve is kinda low for shifters in that amount of time.”

Nadine watched the weight settle around her sister’s shoulders, before Karleen asked, “Do they know about me? I mean, I know I walked away and all, so everyone would be well within their rights…”

“We would never do that to you, Karleen. Mom and Dad always ask if I’ve seen you lately, and the kids all ask if Aunt Karleen will come to the next family get-together. The boys never really knew you well, but they hang on every word when I tell the family how you’re doing. You have a family waiting for you, whenever you’re ready for us.”

A single tear escaped Karleen’s iron self-control, and she casually dabbed it away with a napkin that she placed in her lap. “When is the next family get-together?”

Nadine smiled. “A couple weeks from now, actually.”

“A couple weeks? That’s… wow… that’s really short notice. Would I be able to bring Wyatt?”

Nadine fought to maintain her non-expression and hide even the barest hint of a reaction. A shifter named Wyatt had recently come onto the public scene in the shifter world in a big way. Thomas Carlyle no longer sat on the Shifter Council because of him, and she did not want to make any assumptions. “Wyatt? Who’s that? Do you finally have yourself a man, sister dear?”

Nadine felt her jaw drop when her sister blushed. Karleen looked away and tried to hide her face like an embarrassed schoolgirl, and neither of them had been a schoolgirl for several decades now.

“Oh, you do!” Nadine gushed. “I have never seen you blush before, sis. You have to tell me simply everything now. Come on; spill.”

“Hush already!” Karleen said around a still-embarrassed smile. “I don’t think they heard you in the next state over.”

Nadine evolved her smirk into a full-blown predatory smile. “Would you like them to? Hubby-dearest says I have a good set of lungs in me.”

In the blink of an eye, Karleen’s coloring resembled a ripe tomato, and she buried her face in her hands. “I did not need to know that, Nadine. Whatever your husband thinks or doesn’t think is no business of mine at all. But yes, I am finally seeing someone. And he’s really nice. I don’t need you going all ‘big sister’ on me or him. I can take care of myself. You know that.”

“You’re right. You’ve always taken care of yourself. You’ve always forged your own path, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want details on this Wyatt of yours. Did you meet him during the abduction thing?”

Karleen nodded. “He’s dreamy, sis. I will rub my wolf up against him anytime he lets me.”

Now, it was Nadine’s turn to gape. “Karleen! Do you know what that means to shifters? Please, tell me you know what that means.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t, really. Not at first, but my wolf explained it to me. Then, I rubbed my wolf against him for the first time, and it was everything my wolf said it would be.”

“You are such a shameless hussy,” Nadine shot back amid giggles. “I can’t wait to tell Mom and Dad.”

“Don’t you dare!” Karleen replied through a huge grin. “That’s none of their business.”

“Oh, it’s not? How is it not our parents’ business that little Karleen finally found herself a guy?”

Karleen arched an eyebrow. “‘Little’ Karleen, is it?”

Nadine beamed. “Well, you are the baby of the family. At least for now, anyway. Once they get tired of being grandparents, Mom and Dad might go for another round of parenting. I’ve heard whispers that we’re not their first litter. Which is also common among shifters.”

“Seriously?”

Nadine nodded in response. “Oh, yeah. We’re basically immortal, sis, with shifter healing. But… you’ve stalled for long enough. Tell me about this dreamy Wyatt of yours.”

Karleen blushed again and shook her head. “You are relentless.”

“What… you think I’ll let you surprise all of us by just showing up with him? Come on; give, already. I’m the family reconnaissance. I already know he’s a decent guy, or you wouldn’t be chasing his tail. But you gotta give me more than that, sis. Just think of how our brothers will respond. Do you want them all to do the ‘big brother’ thing with Wyatt?”

Karleen snorted a laugh, and Nadine had never heard her sister do that, either. Then, Karleen said, “I think I’d like to see that.”

“Why?” Nadine’s eyes narrowed. Karleen had that mischievous twinkle in her eyes that hadn’t changed one bit since they were kids.

The mischievous twinkle evolved into full-on amusement as Karleen spoke, “You remember Shep?”

“Shep?” Nadine blinked at the non-sequitur and searched her mind. Then, she frowned. “The Arenbergs’ Rottweiler? What does he have to do with this?”

“Shep wouldn’t chase Wyatt, either.”

Nadine’s frown deepened. Shep had no fear of shifters—unlike most animals—and chased every shifter in the town where they grew up… except Karleen. Even when Karleen was just a toddler, that damned Rottie rolled onto its back and bared its throat at the mere scent of her. It wasn’t until Karleen revealed herself to be the first modern primogenitor that… no. It couldn’t be.

“This Wyatt you’re chasing… he’s that new feline primogenitor everyone’s been hearing about? The one that cost Thomas Carlyle his seat on the council?”

Karleen’s grin turned into a flinty glare in the space of a finger-snap. “First, I don’t know anything about that, and second, what I know of Thomas Carlyle tells me he doesn’t deserve a council seat. I’ve lost count of the number of wolves who have tracked me down over the years and asked—almost begged—me to end him.”

“The word among wolves is that your beau goaded Carlyle into a challenge and then humiliated him in the arena,” Nadine explained. “More than a few aren’t too happy about that. He did choose not to take Carlyle’s seat on the council, which was a good thing. That kept things balanced, but he’s none too popular in certain circles, regardless of his primogenitor status.”

“Would our brothers or father be among those wolves?” Karleen asked, not quite giving Nadine the Stink Eye.

Nadine chuckled and shook her head. “Dad doesn’t care about any of it. He goes about his daily life and never gets involved in politics.”

“So, it’s our brothers then.” Karleen almost growled. “Which ones? All of them?”

“Jack and Will seem the fiercest in their dislike of the Wyatt circulating in the shifter news. Rick has a new baby; not much competes with that.”

Karleen leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, glaring at the tabletop. It was clear to Nadine that her sister considered the situation, and it wasn’t lost on her that the two brothers who disliked the public perception of Wyatt the most were their two oldest brothers.

After several moments, Karleen snorted; only this time, it didn’t come from amusement. She unfolded her arms and uncrossed her legs, placing her palms on her knees as if she meant to stand. “If they have a problem with Wyatt, then they have a problem with me. Hell with it. I’ve lived this long without my blood family.”

“Karleen! Wait!” Nadine hissed, trying to keep her sister from leaving and not cause a scene at the same time.

“What? If Wyatt isn’t welcome, neither am I. He isn’t some weekend boyfriend, Nadine. How many guys did you bring home for dinner that we only saw once? After the fourth or fifth, I stopped caring about their names unless I saw them a second time. Do you think I want my first time seeing the family in sixty years to be some kind of rude pissing match between Wyatt and my brothers that sets everyone on edge? None of us need that, sis. I’ve been just fine all these years without the family; I can go a few more. See you in a year or two. Call if you need help.”

Before Nadine could say another word, Karleen stood, dropped some bills on the table, and walked away. Nadine watched her sister leave the cafe, and she fought the urge to slam her fists on the arms of her chair. Thirty years! She’d been slowly working her sister for thirty years to get her to come back to the family, and her damn fool brothers sent all her hard work up in smoke.

The engine of a well-tuned chopper erupted in a furious rumble from the cafe’s parking lot, and Nadine watched her sister ride away as feelings of dread formed a pit in her stomach. She didn’t want to have the conversation about this with her parents. Dad would be hurt; he missed Karleen something fierce. Mom… Mom would probably be livid and have a none-too-quiet word with the boys. Either way, Nadine didn’t want any part of what came next.

Karleen fought the rage that simmered inside her. How could people who seemed like such upstanding, worthwhile souls as her brothers support someone like Thomas Carlyle? The man gave misogynists a bad name. She didn’t have proof that the man forced himself on weaker female shifters, but too many of the women who came to her showed signs of surviving brutality. Her conscience wouldn’t let her simply challenge and kill him. She needed actual proof of what he was supposed to have done, which she didn’t have.

The city around her transitioned to suburbs and up-scale, middle-class housing developments. Then, the suburbs and communities became more hilly and forested terrain, and Karleen felt a tension fade from her body and soul she hadn’t realized she held. She was glad Precious didn’t have a city vibe or even big town feel to it. As much as she wanted Wyatt and wanted to explore having him in her life, she doubted she could enjoy her time with him if he had chosen a city. But whereas most wolves might be able to hide in cities or suburbs and have people mistake them for weird dog breeds, Wyatt had no chance. No one would mistake a Smilodon for a pet cat.

Despite herself, Karleen chuckled at the thought of taking Wyatt to a pet park in his cat form. Every animal in a square mile would probably piss themselves in submission. A few humans might, too.

The absurd thought went a long way to banishing the ire Karleen felt over the situation with her brothers. As much as she felt the yearning all shifters did to be near and with family, Karleen still thought that the proper path was leaving them to their own devices. She didn’t feel like she belonged in their lives, no matter how much she wanted otherwise.

A little over an hour later, the Godwin County sign flew past her right side, and the feeling of being home surprised her. She hadn’t thought of anywhere other than her cabin deep in the Oregon wilderness as home in a very long time.

Movement on the side of the road up ahead drew Karleen’s focus. A woman burst out of the underbrush lining the rural road. She wore a flannel shirt, denim jeans, and sneakers of some kind. The shirt and jeans possessed numerous jagged rips and tears. She ran into what was the oncoming lane for Karleen, her speed slowing to a stagger, and she collapsed laying halfway across the double yellow line.

Karleen applied the brakes and eased her ride to a stop on the berm. She hit her hazard lights before she put the kickstand down and removed her helmet. She left the bike idling in neutral as she rushed to the woman’s side. Still, five feet or more from her, the scent of a shifter reached Karleen.

As she knelt beside the collapsed woman, Karleen saw the woman’s eyes fluttering as she breathed heavily.

“Do you need help?” Karleen asked.

The woman moved her head in a minute fraction of what might have been a nod in normal circumstances.

“Hunters,” the woman whispered so faintly even Karleen’s shifter hearing almost didn’t catch it.

Well… that tore it. Karleen almost felt like moving her chopper out of sight and leaning the woman against a tree with a water bottle while they waited for the hunters. It had been a while since she had a good fight. But she didn’t know how many hunted her or how well armed they were. While she knew she would win the fight, how much of her would be left afterwards?

No. The better path in this instance was to take her back to Precious. Doc could fix the woman up, and she could tell Wyatt what happened. The tricky part would be getting the woman back to Precious via motorcycle in her half-conscious state.

Karleen scooped the woman into her arms and carried her across the road. She placed her on the back seat and let her slump forward to rest on the gas tank. Then, she went to her saddlebags. She unlocked the left one that held her emergency supplies, like tire patches, a spare chain, bungee cords, and such. The right was her utility bag. Its contents changed with Karleen’s needs, and it had been quite a while since she’d even looked in there.

The lid rolled back, and Karleen snorted at what she saw. Emergency climbing gear—including two harnesses—and a bag of carabiners. Huh. Was the search and rescue job for those missing hikers the last time she used this? That was something like eight months ago. Still, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Those harnesses might take this from being a forlorn hope to something vaguely feasible.

Karleen hustled into her climbing harness before she put the other one on her rescue. Then, she sat on the bike and pulled the woman against her back, clipping the two harnesses at each shoulder with two climbing-grade carabiners. Then, she locked the right saddlebag and pulled a red bungee cord from the left saddlebag before closing it. Karleen lifted the woman’s legs and bent them around her waist, like she was giving her rescue a piggy-back ride. She used the bungee cord to secure the woman’s ankles. The last thing Karleen wanted was for the woman’s feet to flop around and get caught on the chain or the rear tire; that would be a bad day for all involved. The good news was that shifter healing would handle any minor injuries incurred from this.

She took hold of the handlebars and leaned side to side. It wasn’t perfect, but if she kept her speed down, it should work. She shifted into first gear. Then, she eased back onto the road that hadn’t seen any traffic since stopping and resumed her return to Precious.

2

I sat at a table in Gladys’s diner, my attention divided between my amazing meal and my equally amazing—yet for different reasons—and very attractive meal companion. Gabrielle sat ninety degrees around the table to my left, so we both could watch the windows and door.

If I was prepared to be one-hundred-percent honest with myself about her, I was already smitten. Gabrielle had the dusky complexion of Middle Eastern or eastern Mediterranean ethnicity, and she kept her dark hair short. It wasn’t buzz-cut short, but it didn’t have the long side strands of hair that I saw in pictures of ‘page boy’ styles. Tall and lithe, she moved her athletic form with an innate grace only a born shifter possessed, and her personality made her a joy to be near.

Yeah… I was a lost cause.

“So what do we have on the docket after lunch?” I asked between bites.

Gabrielle took a few more bites before she replied, “I was thinking we’d spend an hour on responsibilities of being an Alpha and another hour on shifter stuff. I don’t want to push you too far too fast, because that’s no way to learn anything. Honestly, given you’re two months into being a shifter already, I may just call it good and help you learn as you go. You’ve done really well so far with the few times you’ve needed to adjudicate things as Alpha, and you have Alistair and I for meeting prep in the future.”

I nodded around another bite. When did steaks—and medium-rare steaks at that—get to be so tasty? This was my third one, and I kind of felt like I wanted a fourth.

“So… do we get to have another game of ‘Catch the Cat’ tonight?”

Gabrielle blushed. Honest-to-goodness blushed. “Let’s see how Karleen’s doing when she gets back. She said her sister sounded a little off when they set up the lunch date, and if she needs us, I’d rather focus on that.”

“Naturally,” I replied. “Sometimes, I think Karleen needs us as much as I need the two of you.”

A haunted look took over Gabrielle’s expression for a moment, and I wondered what all she and Karleen talked about. I knew they went for runs sometimes that turned into talk sessions as they swam in Gabrielle’s lake.

“Yeah, she really does. She hasn’t told me a lot, but what little I do know… well… she had a rough childhood.”

Ouch. Rough childhoods either screwed someone up for life or set them on the path to success because they fought against their experiences. Karleen hadn’t told me all the whys and wherefores that led her to abandon shifter society for however long she had, but I didn’t see how it could’ve been good. And yeah… I didn’t know how old she truly was yet, either. In the long run, age didn’t really matter, since shifters only died from wounds and not from old age or disease. What blew my mind about that was Alistair choosing to look as old as he did; come to find out, he didn’t have to.

The roar of a chopper reached our ears, and Gabrielle and I grinned at the same time.

“She’s back,” I said.

Gabrielle nodded, and we devoured our food so we could go welcome her back. As soon as our plates were clean, we stood, and I tossed a handful of bills on the table. We turned toward the door, and I blinked at the sight of Karleen having someone behind her on her bike that looked unconscious. Gabrielle didn’t freeze; she crossed the space to the door in the blink of an eye and was halfway across the street by the time I shook off my surprise. I hurried to catch up.

“…ran out of the underbrush along the road,” Karleen was saying as Gabrielle helped her release her passenger from the harness. “I have no idea who she is or where she’s from, but she scents of shifter. Normally, my wolf tells me what breed a shifter is, especially if I haven’t met the breed before, but she’s been silent the whole time.”

“Here, tough guy,” Gabrielle said, gesturing to the unconscious woman. “You can carry her into the infirmary.”

I chuckled and scooped the woman up in a bridal carry, following Karleen and Gabrielle as they opened doors for me. The last set of doors—the ones that led to Doc’s triage area and the rest of the infirmary—swooshed open on their own at Gabrielle’s approach.

“Doc,” Gabrielle said, “we have an unconscious woman here. She scents like a shifter.”

Doc looked up from a book of some type just as I followed Gabrielle through the automatic doors. “Ah, yes. Put her over there on the bed where you woke, please, Alpha Wyatt.”

By the time I had the woman laid out on the bed, Doc was across the bed from me. He started his exam with two fingers pressed to the side of her neck. “Hmmm… she’s alive, yes. Pulse is steady if a little weak.”

I picked up on the shifter scent as well, and I agreed with Karleen. I didn’t know what breed she was.

Well? I directed to the part of my mind that was no longer human.

My cat sent back a mental image of a massive Smilodon yawning, the growly voice asking, What?

You’ve always identified shifter breeds for me before. What is she?

Trouble, the growly voice immediately replied. Very yummy but still trouble.

Seriously? That’s all you’re giving me?

What? A mental image of total innocence formed in my mind. Then, an almost-human shrug. All cats think birds are yummy.

Birds, huh? So, she’s an avian shifter?

Sure… why not.

My cat sent an image of a massive Smilodon lazing in the shade of an enormous tree on a bright, sunny day. I felt pretty certain that was code for ‘not talking anymore.’

“My cat hinted that she’s an avian shifter,” I said while Doc continued his exam.

Karleen scoffed. “Well, that’s no fair. My wolf doesn’t even acknowledge her existence. The last time I asked, she sent back an image of us playing in the woods.”

Just then, the woman’s stomach growled. Most people hear ‘stomach growled’ and think of the fairly tame growling human stomachs do. Yes, for the most part, ours are the same way. Except this one. It wasn’t a growl so much as a roar. Doc even took a small step back from the bed.

“Should we go get a couple platters of food, Doc?” I asked.

Doc nodded. “Yes, that might be good.”

Her head hurt. Her stomach ached. The last thing she remembered was… what? Running? Right. She ran through the forest after they found her at that campground. But where was she now?

She laid on a… well… it almost felt like a hospital bed. Her back angled slightly upward. The smell of strong disinfectant assaulted her nose, and she heard a heartbeat and breathing close. Very close. Whoever was with her knew she was awake if the person was a shifter. Might as well get it over with.

She opened her eyes and saw a curtained off space. The drop ceiling and florescent lighting screamed hospital of some type, and terror threatened to overtake her that they caught her at last.

“Hey, relax,” a new voice said. A woman’s voice.

Turning toward the voice, she saw a woman in a flannel shirt, blue denim jeans, and biker leathers. Her dark hair brushed her shoulders. Her expression—her entire demeanor—conveyed concern.

“I don’t know where you think you are, but I’m almost certain you’re wrong,” the woman said. “You’re in Precious, the infirmary there. My friends went across the street to get some food for you, and they’ll be back shortly.”

At the mention of food, her stomach growled again. Growled so fiercely it sounded like it might attempt escape to get its own food. Then, her senses finally caught up to her; the woman in biker leathers was a shifter. Hints of wolf but nothing like any wolf shifter she’d ever encountered.

“I’m Karleen Vesper,” the woman continued. “You stumbled out of the forest about an hour west of here and collapsed right on the road’s yellow line. I brought you here. Doc says you’re okay overall, just malnourished and dehydrated. We’re going to fix you up, okay? You don’t have to run. You’re safe here.”

No. She wasn’t safe anywhere. She didn’t see how she’d ever be safe again. Not since the Higgins farm outside Pitawqua, Nebraska. Goodness, that was what… a year ago now? But how much was safe to tell? She always avoided large settlements before—regardless of human or shifter. Except now she was one of two places she never wanted to be.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat and mouth were parched. She cleared her throat and licked her lips. “How long?”

The woman calling herself Karleen lifted one eyebrow. “About ninety minutes since I found you. It’s been maybe twenty minutes since my friends went for food. They should be back very soon.”

“Who else is here?”

“If you mean the infirmary, no one; Doc went to get a bite once he finished making sure you had no injuries that required his immediate attention. If you mean the town, I have no idea. The whole county is shifter territory, and the only humans we have in town are those who know about us.”

The sound of an automatic door opening preceded footfalls and a cornucopia of lovely food smells. Two silhouettes approached the curtain, and Karleen moved to pull it back and revealed two people—a man and a woman—both carrying platters piled high with food.

“Oh, hello,” the young man said, his expression one of warm greeting. “Welcome to Precious. I’m Wyatt, and for my sins, the Shifter Council named me Alpha. This lady to my right is Gabrielle, and I see you’ve already met Karleen.”

It was all she could do to bob her head in acknowledgement of his words. Her eyes remained locked on the food, almost drooling at the thought of it all. But then, reality returned.

“I don’t have any money.”

Wyatt placed the platter on the foot of the bed and gave her a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about it. If anyone gets grouchy, the infirmary can reimburse me, since Doc said you needed food.”

That was enough for her. She leaned forward as far as she could, grabbing the platter and moving it to rest on her lap. The woman Wyatt introduced as Gabrielle placed her platter on the now-vacant foot of the bed.

Gabrielle touched Wyatt’s upper arm as she said, “I’m going back for drinks. What do you want?”

“Something fizzy… no ice,” Wyatt replied, handing her a card.

“Karleen?” Gabrielle asked.

“I’ll have what Wyatt’s having but with light ice.”

Then, Gabrielle turned to her. She paused mid-bite as a wave of something passed through her. Sorrow? Regret? She wasn’t sure what she felt, but these people opened up their lives and town to her. Fed her. And she didn’t want to tell them her name. She didn’t want to tell them anything about her. She feared it would only get them killed.

She swallowed her bite and answered, “Uhm… water, I guess.”

“You sure?” Gabrielle asked. “There’s tea, coffee, pretty much any kind of soft drink you can imagine.”

“Water’s fine.”

Wyatt added, “If you don’t mind, swing by Hank’s and see if he still has any of those hydration packets left. Besides just getting more water in her, she may be low on electrolytes.”

Gabrielle nodded and left, leaving the other two watching her eat.

“You were back kind of soon,” Wyatt remarked, looking at Karleen. “Everything go okay?”

Karleen grimaced. “It went. ‘Okay’ might be stretching things. Nadine wanted me to come to the next family get-together, which is something like next month or two weeks or something. I don’t really remember right now. What pissed me off is how two of my brothers apparently have opinions about you from whatever gossip the wolves around there are spreading over the Thomas Carlyle thing.”

“Why would that matter?” Wyatt asked, his face scrunching up to show his confusion.

“Because… well… I was going to invite you along.”

Wyatt’s confusion vanished. “Oh. You mean like a ‘meet the family’ situation?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve seen any of them, and we seem to be building something, so I’d like them to meet you if I’m going to be back in the shifter world from here on out.”

Karleen’s words clicked with something in the woman’s mind, mid-bite, and she fell into a coughing fit as she almost choked on her food. When she cleared her airway at least, she almost gaped at Karleen.

“Are you okay?” Wyatt asked.

She only had eyes—or focus—for Karleen. “You said ‘back in the shifter world.’ Does that mean what I think it means? Are you the North American dire wolf?”

Karleen blushed. Then nodded.

“Oh my goodness,” the woman gushed. “I’ve been chasing every rumor and suspected sighting up and down the Pacific coast looking for you for something like six to eight months now. I need your help. Will you teach me how to go completely off the grid?”

Karleen glanced at Wyatt, then said, “To be honest, I’m not sure how much my experience will help you. Number one, I never had people hunting me, so you should really deal with that first. At least, I assume you have people hunting you, since it seemed like you were running from something before you collapsed. Number two, I didn’t leave shifter society so much as ignore it. I built a cabin deep in the Oregon wilderness and just let the world do its thing. I went into towns for supplies I couldn’t make when I needed them and sold pelts and traps and whatever for money. We don’t even know what breed of shifter you are, so even after the first point, it’s kinda difficult to know if I can help you at all. You haven’t even told us your name. I get that, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m being pushy or nosy. But at the same time, are we just supposed to shout, ‘hey you?’”

And there it was. She would’ve liked to get through both platters of food before having to give them her name. Every time she gave it before, it was a toss-up whether people tried to run her off or turn her in. She took another bite to stall. When the silence extended quite a ways past awkward, she looked at the platter in her lap.

“My name is Sloane Martinez.”

Karleen looked to Wyatt; he shrugged. Karleen turned back to look at Sloane, adding her own shrug to Wyatt’s and saying, “You said that like we should recognize your name. Should we?”

When Sloane didn’t answer, Wyatt produced a phone from his hip pocket and tapped at the screen. Just a few seconds later, he whistled. “It says here that a Sloane Martinez is sought by police as a person of interest in connection to the murder of Jerome and Beatrice Higgins and arson at their farm just outside Pitawqua, Nebraska. That you?”

Sloane continued to eat. Neither Wyatt nor Karleen looked tense, so she held out hope. But maybe they were just letting her finish the food before they called the police.

“It’s about me, yes, but I didn’t do it. And I know every criminal says that. But I really didn’t. I worked for Jerry and Betty as a farmhand, their only farmhand. Been there for years. Then, one day, three blacked-out SUVs rolled up while we were at the kitchen table eating dinner, and people in suits and sunglasses stepped out. They demanded I come with them, never showed any ID or warrant or anything. Just demanded I go with them. I didn’t even get the chance to say ‘no.’ Jerry was all over them like a bulldog on a T-bone. While Jerry and the lead guy argued, one of the guys pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves and went to Jerry’s gun rack. He pulled down a shotgun, loaded it, and calmly blasted Jerry into oblivion. Then, he went to the kitchen and did the same to Betty. I booked it out of there. A few of them chased me, but I managed to get away. They’ve been chasing me ever since.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Karleen remarked.

Sloane frowned at her. “Seriously? You believe me just like that?”

Karleen returned a patient—almost motherly—smile. “We’re shifters, honey. We can hear variances in people’s heart rate when they lie. You’re not lying.”

Sloane nodded her understanding and went back to eating.

“So, what do we do?” Wyatt asked. “Figure out who’s hunting her and why?”

Karleen leaned back against her chair, looking up at the ceiling tiles as a grimace took over her expression. For several seconds, the only sounds came from Sloane finishing the first platter and switching it with the second.

“I want to say yes,” Karleen answered at long last. “The problem is that we have to be very careful about how we do so. We don’t want to give humans the impression we’re sheltering a murderer and arsonist.”

“Get Alistair’s opinion, then?” Wyatt asked.

“Yes, I think so.”

The infirmary door activated, and Wyatt grinned at the sound of a second woman’s voice. Gabrielle arrived with a drink carrier and two gallon-size jugs of water. A woman who looked about Wyatt’s age with wavy blond hair and a curvy yet athletic build carried a brown paper grocery bag.

“Look who I found loitering on the street,” Gabrielle said as she handed off the drinks in the carrier. “She arrived just as I was going into Hank’s store.”

“So, what brings you to visit, sis?” Wyatt asked.

The blond Wyatt claimed as a sister beamed. “I’m looking for Karleen.”

“Oh, and before I forget,” Wyatt interjected, “this is Sloane Martinez. Sloane, this is my sister, Vicki.”

Sloane waved her greetings as she continued to eat.

“Why are you looking for me?” Karleen asked.

Vicki turned to her after waving a ‘hello’ to Sloane. “A couple of government fops pretty much demanded a meeting with the family, and Grandpa and Grandma don’t want me going alone. All of our people are in the Magi database, but have you let Doc put you in the shifter one yet?”

Karleen shook her head. “He won’t even if I agree to his primogenitor exam. I made very clear what his fate would be if any of my information ever reached a government database.”

Vicki beamed. “Sweet! So, do you mind going with me?”

“Nope. When are we going?”

Now, a slight blush colored Vicki’s cheeks. “Uhm… is tomorrow too soon?”

3

I watched Sloane reach her food limit about two-thirds of the way through the second platter. She drank a couple glasses of water with electrolyte packets dissolved in them, then laid back against her bed.

“Oh, my.” Her voice had an almost dreamy lilt to it. “I can’t remember the last time I felt truly full. That was so yummy. Thank you.”

I smiled. “No problem. So… as long as you promise that you won’t try running off, I’ll go ask Doc if he’ll sign off on you getting a room at the hotel here in town.”

“But… but… I can’t stay. I simply can’t. They’ll come for me. They always do.”

Karleen, Gabrielle, and I all shared a look. Karleen spoke. “Let them come.”

Sloane blinked her astonishment.

“You’re sure?” Her voice was soft and quiet, almost as if she feared their answer would change in a moment.

I nodded. “Very sure. Let’s get you set up in the hotel for now. While Karleen goes with Vicki tomorrow, we can start working on clearing your name.” I grimaced. “If I’m going to be honest, we’ll probably lose most of tomorrow just figuring out who all is after you. I kinda hope those nameless suits show up, too; it would help us to understand who they are and what they want.”

The infirmary door slid open, and I turned to look. Buddy Carrington stepped through and headed straight to me.

“Alpha Wyatt, there are a handful of suits over in the diner hassling everyone about some woman they were chasing through the woods west of town. They look pretty rough, too. All mud-soaked and ratty. I think they had some problems.”

“How’d you get away?” Gabrielle asked.

Buddy grinned. “I was across the street. Saw ‘em get out of some blacked-out SUVs and heard ‘em start with the questions when the lead guy only had one foot in the diner’s door.”

I turned to my sister. “You feel like helping out with an interrogation?”

Vicki scanned the faces looking at her, then turned back to me. “I won’t be helping you start a war with the Feds, will I?”

“I don’t see how,” Gabrielle replied. “If they’re honestly Feds, they’re violating the treaty we have with them, because we police our own. They should’ve passed word to the Shifter Council. If they’re not Feds, then they’re guilty of quite a few crimes.”

Karleen snorted a laugh. “They’re guilty of crimes, either way. They killed the Higgins couple and burned down their farm. Besides, with the way Sloane’s case appears to be on the surface, there’s no way the Council wouldn’t call the Huntress to handle it. So, no matter who they are, they’re ours.”

“Huntress?” Sloane squeaked. “You all know the Huntress?”

Gabrielle hung her head as Karleen pointed at her with a thumb. Sloane’s eyes went wide.

“Relax,” Karleen said, placing a hand on Sloane’s. “We know you’re telling the truth about what happened.”

I looked Sloane right in her eyes. “Will you wait here for us? We can help you get all this sorted out, but only if you stay here with us and don’t run off.”

Sloane held my eyes with her own for several moments before she looked down at her lap. “You promise you’re not just going to hand me over to them?”

I gave her my best encouraging nod. “Yes, I absolutely one-hundred-percent promise they will not get their hands on you. We, however, will absolutely get our hands on them.”

Vicki beamed. “Let’s go interrogate some people. I’ve always wanted to practice my Charm spell.”

When we left the infirmary building, we found a sight that made my blood boil. The muddy suits had Gladys pressed up against one of their SUVs, telling her all the various ways impeding federal agents would go poorly for her. The guy talking waved his hand with his index finger pointing in Gladys’s general direction, emphasizing his points.

In a way, though, it was kind of funny. We were downwind of them, and the scents carried on the breeze told us they were plain-jane, vanilla humans. I had no idea how old Gladys was, but even a newly adult pup could ruin ten humans’ day; the six surrounding her wouldn’t be much of an obstacle if she decided to end the farce and go back to her diner.

I eased to a stop behind the suits and crossed my arms, putting on what I hoped was my best ‘unhappy Alpha’ expression.

Gladys pointed at me, saying, “Boys and girls, the one you need to speak with is right behind you. I just run the diner.”

One of the suits—a woman—glanced behind her and saw us. The suit standing closest to Gladys tilted his head to the side and replied, “Come on. That old trick?”

The woman who saw us tapped the talker on the shoulder, but he brushed her off.

“Child,” Gladys said, her voice almost weary, “I’m getting tired of repeating myself, and you’re keeping me from my business. You have no concept of what I am or even how old I am, so I suggest you get your finger out of my face before I bite it off and make you regret ever being born. Or… I suppose I could just stand here and watch the guy who runs the town wipe the asphalt with you.”

“Now, see here,” the man replied, “that kind of attitude will only—”

“Gladys,” I interrupted the man, “go back to the diner. I’ll handle this.”

One of the suits moved as if to stop her, and I raised an eyebrow. Our eyes locked. He let Gladys pass.

“Show me some identification,” I said, my arms crossed over my chest.

The man who had been accosting Gladys took a few steps toward me. “You are impeding—”

“I’ll do more than impede you in just a few seconds unless I see ID.”

“You do not have the authority to—”

I said one word, “Sis.”

Vicki recited something that made me think of Ancient Sumerian, and each of the people in muddy suits swayed on their feet as rings of pastel-colored light particles swirled around their heads in halos.

“Who are you?” Vicki asked.

“I’m Ronald Tomlinson,” the man said, gazing at Vicki with unbridled adoration in his eyes.

“Okay. Who do you work for?”

Ronnie shook his head. “Oh, I’m not supposed to tell anyone that, Mistress, but you are such a wonderful person. We’re United States Black Ops. Deep, deep Black Ops. Our unit existed before the big merger that created the Joint Special Operations Command, and somehow, everyone kind of missed us. I’m not really sure who we answer to anymore, if anyone.”

Vicki nodded. “What brings you to Precious?”

“You will not believe this, Mistress. You won’t believe this at all. We have credible intelligence that there is a woman living in the country who can turn into a giant bird. We have been tasked with capturing her and returning her to our facility for study.”

My sister and I shared a look, and I nodded my head for her to proceed. “What about the treaty between the United States and the Shifter Nation of North America? I thought it was one of the country’s oldest treaties. What you’re doing kind of violates that, right?”

The man blew a raspberry and made a dismissive wave. “You really believe that old wives’ tale? We haven’t been able to get anyone to verify that such a treaty ever existed, let alone show it to us. Next, you’ll be telling us there are actually Magi and Fae and all that other stuff.”

“So, where’s your facility then?”

Ronnie beamed. “A couple hours north of the Grand Tetons. We’re buried under one of the mountains in the Rockies. I’ve seen builders’ plaques dating back to the early Cold War, and we’ve added and expanded over the years since then.”

“Why don’t we go to the town’s admin building?” I pointed to it down the street. “We can be much more comfortable and discuss things further.”

We could also set up the conference room to record everything. I wanted everything safely stored away somewhere it could be retrieved and verified at will.

“Oh, that sounds like a lovely idea, sir,” Ronnie chirped. “I’m sure Mistress is getting tired, standing out here in the sun.”

I turned and moved close to Gabrielle, whispering low enough that the humans around us couldn’t hear. “Get everything set up to record in the conference room.”

Gabrielle nodded and jogged ahead of us.

Then, I asked Karleen to wait until we were inside the conference room, then get Sloane settled in the hotel. It didn’t look like clearing her name was going to be as much of a chore as I first thought.

Over the next few hours, we collected an obscene amount of information about who these six individuals were, who their overall unit was, and what they knew or didn’t know about Sloane and shifters in general. One of the men confessed to murdering Mr. and Mrs. Higgins, and the apparent leader admitted to setting the fires. The fact they thought the greater shifter community was a hoax perpetrated on the fledgling federal government struck me as either rather odd or rather sad, possibly a little of both.

Once we had the pertinent information, we took them to the county jail, where the sheriff and his deputies processed them before providing each person a set of pleasant orange sweats. More than one deputy couldn’t believe how compliant they were. The second each person occupied their own individual cell, having willingly surrendered any and all hidden items they might have used to attempt escape, Vicki canceled the charm spells and left them to stew in despair over how much information they gave us.

Outside the jail, I thanked my sister for her help with a brotherly hug. The moment she teleported back to our grandparents’ house, I headed off in search of Alistair.

I found him just as he locked up his office for the evening. He took one look at me and unlocked the door, waving for me to join him. Then, invited me to sit. I sat in the one my grandfather had occupied when he came to Precious looking for me, and Alistair sat in the one opposite it.

“All right, lad. Even as old a wolf as I am can tell you have something on your mind. How can I help?”

I took twenty minutes outlining everything we knew at that point, starting with seeing Karleen return to town with someone on her motorcycle and carrying through to turning the six suits over to the sheriff.

When I finally ran down, Alistair leaned back against his seat and shook his head. “Damn, lad. You don’t do anything in half measures.”

I shrugged. “So, what do you think? How should we handle this? Take this to the Shifter Council for them to take to the Feds?”

Alistair looked up at the ceiling, his eyes flicking side to side. I had only seen him this deep in thought one other time. After several moments, he brought his eyes back to me and nodded.

“Yes, Wyatt. That is exactly what we do. It’s the only response that doesn’t at least carry bad connotations for us. I’ll need to check a map to be sure, but it doesn’t sound like this facility of theirs is inside one of our territories. So, if we attack them in response to what they’ve done, we’re de facto attacking the United States. That’s not an anthill I want to kick over.”

I nodded my understanding and sighed. “Okay. I’ll get you the recordings for you to take to the—”

“Oh, no, lad. For something like this, you need to be there and present the recordings. We might even want to take this Sloane Martinez, so the council can hear that she’s honest when she tells her story. Where is she now?”

“She should be in the hotel. Karleen was supposed to take her there from the infirmary once we had all the suits in the admin building’s conference room.”

“That’s good,” Alistair remarked. “She should be comfortable until I can get a meeting with the council. It’s already too late to make those calls tonight. We might as well get some sleep and start this fresh in the morning.”

I smiled as we both stood. “Thank you, Alistair. I appreciate all your help and counsel.”

Alistair clapped me on the shoulder as we left his office. “Think nothing of it, lad. Your grandfather saved my life many times over during the war. The least I can do is help you find your way.”

4

Karleen and Vicki stood on the sidewalk outside a massive high-rise in the heart of a major urban center. People lined the sidewalk around them, and the first thing Karleen noticed was the ambient assault on her sense of smell.

“Goodness,” Karleen growled, fighting the urge to scowl, “where are we? The very air reeks.”

Vicki scrunched up her nose and nodded. “It’s bad enough even I can smell it, and I’m not quite sure where we are. A city, obviously, but they just gave me the building’s coordinates where they wanted to meet me.”

Karleen shot Vicki a look, her eyebrows inching upward. “You can teleport to geographical coordinates? Can all Magi do that?”

Vicki grinned and bobbed her head. “As long as they’re Master-certified or higher. I passed my Master exam about three weeks ago now.”

“Congratulations,” Karleen replied. “Now, come on. Hopefully, the inside smells better than the outside.”

Mitchell Cavendish stepped into the security office and walked straight to the staffer who summoned him. “Report.”

“Sir, Victoria Magnusson is here, and she’s right on time,” the young woman said. “She has someone with her, but whoever it is doesn’t come up in any of the databases we can access. Nothing on the shifter or Magi databases, FBI facial recognition, DOD search, NCIC, VICAP, INTERPOL… nothing.”

Mitchell looked at the dark haired woman standing beside Victoria Magnusson. Part of him wanted to know who she was and where Magnusson found her. He certainly wished he knew what her capabilities were. Whoever she was, she moved like she knew her body. Ex-Mossad, maybe?

In the long run, it didn’t matter. One woman would not stop them. As soon as Magnusson stepped into the room they had specifically for meetings like this, the conclusion was foregone. If Victoria Magnusson ever wanted to breathe air as a free woman again, she would turn over all data and information related to making the various types of -bane ammunition.

“Bring the cell jammer to standby,” Mitchell said. “Activate it the moment Jeffrey ushers them into the room.”

“Yes, sir.”

The building interior didn’t smell as bad as the outside. For that, Karleen was thankful. But something was… not right.

She and Vicki arrived on the 30th floor without any problems, and the sign by the door said these people were State Department. The more people Karleen encountered, though, the more she was certain these people were not run-of-the-mill government staffers. For one thing, when they passed someone, the person’s heart rate kicked up. Not a lot, and certainly not close to the level of a fear response. Maybe momentary shock of recognition? Like maybe they knew who Vicki was?

Total speculation, but Karleen needed something to do besides watch angles and corners and doors as she followed Vicki through the corridors.

Jeffrey, their guide, stopped in front of a door labeled ‘Conference Room 4’ and opened the door for them. He was handsome enough for a human in his late 20s to early 30s, but when Karleen put him beside Wyatt in her mind, poor Jeffrey just couldn’t compete. The poor kid couldn’t give a decent roar, and he smelled like he bathed in some pungent kind of cologne.

A large oval conference table dominated the space. It looked like natural wood with a dark stain, and it was big enough that thirty-odd chairs ringed it. The walls were a pleasant off-white, and the carpet was the commercial stuff that might have been a centimeter thick, if that.

Vicki staggered a bit as she stepped into the room, and Jeffrey closed the door behind them. The sound of the door’s lock clicking was so loud, even Vicki should have heard it. Vicki seemed very unsteady on her feet as she went straight to a chair and sat.

The first thing Karleen noticed in the room’s almost unnatural quiet was the faint hum of electronic devices. Humans couldn’t hear it. Either too faint or a frequency outside their range. But that faint hum was either listening or recording devices or both.

Karleen pulled her phone out of her hip pocket and saw it showed no signal. She put that aside and brought up a notes app and typed out a message.

I can hear electronics. Assume they’re listening, watching, or both.

Vicki read the text and nodded. Then, she held out her hand for the phone. Karleen obliged her and watched her tap out her own message.

There’s some kind of anti-magic field in this room. Felt it right inside the door.

Well, damn. Someone was serious about something. Karleen looked at the wall across the room from them. It looked like simple, painted sheetrock. But there was no way to know if that was true without trying to break through it.

Karleen made a slow scan of the room with her eyes. No obvious cameras or even pin holes that might hide them. No smoke detectors. Just drop ceiling and florescent lights. Two doors: the one they entered and a second almost directly opposite it.

The far door clicked, then opened. Two people entered. One man and one woman. Both wore suits and neutral non-expressions. Karleen couldn’t smell any gunpowder, so they must not have been armed. Probably trusting in the anti-magic field to protect them. Idiots.

Before anyone spoke, Karleen picked up her phone and opened the voice memo app. She already had a bad feeling about the entire situation and wanted a record of what transpired.

“Good afternoon, Miss Magnusson,” the man said. “I am Mitchell Cavendish, and this is my associate, Leah Brenner. We’re here today to discuss the Magi Assembly’s repeated refusal to supply -bane ammunition to various countries around the world.”

“The recent unpleasantness in the Pacific Northwest,” Leah interjected, “has proven beyond any doubt that humans are at a disadvantage when confronting Magi and shifters.”

Mitchell nodded his agreement before returning his eyes to Vicki. He reached inside his suit jacket and produced a folded document inside a blue manuscript cover.

“This is a court order requiring you to hand over all information necessary to create -bane ammunition or weapons. If you fail to do so, the order also grants us authority to classify you as an enemy combatant, giving us the authority to hold you without due process until such time as you comply.”

Vicki lifted one hand and waved a finger in a ‘send it here’ gesture. The man slid the document across the table, which was so glossy and polished the whole surface was near frictionless. She read through the document. Then, she produced her phone and flipped through the document again, taking a picture of each page.

“What are you doing?” Leah asked.

As soon as she had a high-res picture of each page, Vicki sent the document sliding back across the table. “I wanted a record of it in case that document disappears when you realize just how big a pile you’ve stepped in.”

Mitchell and Leah shared a look. Then, Mitchell turned back to us. “So, you won’t comply?”

“No,” Vicki answered. “That is Magi-proprietary information. Beyond that, you need a Magi to do it. A hedge wizard or witch can’t.”

An almost-predatory smile curled Mitchell’s lips. “We have a Magi to do the work, and I don’t mean you. We only need you to provide the information.”

Vicki and I shared a look. Almost like we planned it, we lifted our phones in unison and snapped pictures of Mitchell and Leah.

Mitchell frowned at us. One of his hands curled into a fist. “Look… stop with the pictures already. We have anti-Magi restraints that we will use when we take you out of this room. You seem to think you’re just walking out of here, but that’s not the case. Until you give us what we want, the only place you and your mercenary friend are going is prison.”

“Mercenary?” Karleen asked. “You think I’m a mercenary?”

“Ex-Mossad, probably,” Leah remarked, “but yes.”

Vicki erupted in laughter. “Oh, that is priceless. So, you’re telling us you plan to hold us against our will if I do not agree?”

Now, Mitchell and Leah shared a look as if they questioned Vicki’s mental capacity.

“Yes,” Mitchell answered, “that is exactly what I’m saying.”

“Even though you realize doing so violates the US-Magi treaty?”

Leah made a dismissive wave. “The Magi Assembly won’t care about some slip of a girl, even if she is Connor Magnusson’s granddaughter. The information is more valuable to us than whatever settlement we have to make with the Assembly to smooth this over.”

Vicki nodded. “Well, I certainly take exception to that. I am not ‘some slip of a girl.’ But so be it. I think we’re done here.” She turned to Karleen. “Do you mind?”

Karleen stood, grabbed the closest chair, and turned to the wall. Most wall studs used sixteen-inch centers. She had no idea if that was the case in city high-rises, but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to find out.

“Hey!” Mitchell shouted as Karleen drew the chair back over her shoulder like a batter in the World Series.

“What are you doing?” Leah added.

Karleen paid them no mind as she swung the back of the chair at a spot she hoped held no wall studs. The chair’s strike cracked the sheetrock, and Karleen tossed the chair aside.

“Stop right there!” Mitchell shouted, standing and placing clenched fists on the tabletop. “If you persist, you’ll only have more charges added.”

Karleen peeled the sheetrock back, revealing insulation beneath a mesh of wires. She reached out and touched her fingertip to it. Electricity zapped her, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. The problem was that the wires were almost piano wire. They would shred her hands if she tried to… wait.

Mitchell and Leah jumped to their feet and hustled to the door on their side. They both started pounding fists on the door, demanding attention.

Karleen grabbed another close chair and snapped off one of its legs. The chair leg tapered from wide up by the seat to barely wider than a quarter where the leg rested against the floor. She rammed the narrow end of the chair leg into the wire mesh and pulled it down toward the floor with all her might.

The thin wires couldn’t stand up to her strength. Sparks crackled and flew as wire after wire snapped. Some kind of alarm started blaring.

“Hey… my phone has signal now,” Vicki said.

“Call your grandparents,” Karleen replied. “I’m still working on getting us out of here.”

The wires no longer carried electricity, and Karleen was able to use the chair leg to bend the mesh back away from the insulation. All that was left was the nasty business of pulling out the insulation. Karleen grimaced and shook her head. She hated fiberglass.

She jabbed the chair leg into the insulation as high as she could reach against the backdrop of Vicki calling her grandparents while Mitchell shouted for her to put down the phone. It took some work, but Karleen managed to rake most of the insulation out of the wall. She found what looked like more sheetrock. Lifting the chair leg one more time, she swung the thick end against the sheetrock and broke through. She saw a glimpse of what looked like the hallway where they followed Jeffery to the conference room.

Karleen turned back to Vicki. “Come on. I see the hallway.”

“You’ll never make it out of the building alive,” Mitchell snarled.

Vicki made no reply as she stepped to Karleen’s side, and Karleen pushed her through the wall first. Strands of the wire mesh tugged at her clothing as she passed. Then followed. As soon as Vicki passed through the wall, she felt her magic again… just as six or eight men in suits with earbuds charged around a distant corner. Karleen pushed through the wall behind her, and Vicki took her hand. She recited a series of words in Ancient Sumerian, and both she and Karleen vanished from the hallway.

Karleen stood in what appeared to be a study or office. A massive desk that looked sturdy enough to prop up the Empire State Building despite being older than dirt dominated the space. Woven rugs lined the floors, and wood paneling with a light stain lined the walls, minus the ten-feet-tall windows with arched tops. Hints of citrus hung in the air.

Connor Magnusson paced from wall to wall behind the desk, a phone held to his ear while he gestured with the other hand. “No, Pierre, this wasn’t some kind of mistake. Vicki sent me pictures of the document once the cell jammer went down. Yes, she’s fine. She and her friend just popped into my study. But as much as I appreciate your well-wishes, that’s not the point. We have a treaty with these people. This is not how friends act, let alone allies, and I vote we convene the Assembly to determine our response.”

Connor paused for a moment. “No, Pierre, I don’t really care what the vampires think of it. They will just try to spin the whole situation to their advantage and turn their coats mid-discussion if they feel that’s the most advantageous for them. Let’s just leave them out of it.”

Another pause to listen. “Again, Pierre, I think you may be underestimating the amount of support we have among shifters. At least shifters in North America. I’ve already informed the Assembly that my grandson is the feline primogenitor, and he’s growing into a rather proficient leader. He and Alistair are taking another matter to the Shifter Council in a couple days, so we could ask him to add a point to the agenda.”

Another pause. “Yes, yes… I understand that you lost family in the last Shifter-Magi war. So did I. So did Maeve. And so did almost every other Magi family. But the shifters lost people, too. I’ve said for years that there’s no point in fighting old wars. There never has been. That hatred you carry will be a poison to your soul, Pierre.”

Another pause. “Thank you. I need to speak with my granddaughter before I continue making calls. I want to hear about it from her. Thank you for your time, Pierre.”

Connor pulled the phone away from his ear and thumbed the control to end the call. He dropped the phone on the desk and crossed the room to pull Vicki into a tight hug. After several moments, he released her and stepped back, turning to Karleen.

“Miss Vesper, I do not have the words to express how grateful I am that you were there for Vicki today. I have no doubt at all that your presence enabled her to remain free and get word of this back to us.”

Karleen blushed and looked away for a moment, shaking her head. “It was nothing, sir. Even if I didn’t think of Vicki as a friend, she’s Wyatt’s sister, and Wyatt… well… Wyatt is rather special to me.”

“I’ll make sure he knows what you did today,” Vicki interjected, adding a conspiratorial wink. “Should make him very happy and grateful.”

Connor chuckled at his granddaughter’s antics, then gestured toward seats. “If you don’t mind, I’d like for you take me through it, step by step. Tell me everything.”

What’s Next?

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The Novels of Robert M. Kerns

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So…Who’s the Author?

Robert M. Kerns (or Rob if you ever meet him in person) is a geek, and he claims that label proudly. Most of his geekiness revolves around Information Technology (IT), having over fifteen years in the industry; within IT, he especially prefers Servers and Networks, and he often makes the claim that his residence has a better data infrastructure than some businesses.

Beyond IT, Rob enjoys Science Fiction and Fantasy of (almost) all stripes. He is a voracious reader, with his favorite books too numerous to list.

Rob has been writing for over 20 years, and Awakening is his debut novel.

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