Feral Pride (25 page)

I DIED.
It sucks. I never had the chance to put together a bucket list, let alone check stuff off of it. But because I’ve got unfinished business, I’ve decided to stick around.

They’re haunted people — Yoshi, Kayla, and especially Aimee — haunted by me.

Dr. Morales figured out how to use the tracking function of the brain chips to pick up the remaining shifters in the woods. Now they’re all at the makeshift medical bay at the B&B in Pine Ridge. After healing up from the extractions, they’ll be sent home or someplace safer.

After a quick debate, the grown-ups took a sample of Seth’s charred remains for study. They left the rest for humanity to figure out (or not) for itself.

Jess’s dad, Sheriff Bigheart, was the first non-coalition cop on the scene. Arriving in his wife’s hot-pink VW Beetle, he beat the SWAT team by three minutes.

Kayla insisted on staying, after the coalition pulled out, to answer media questions. Yoshi stood by her. When Mayor and Mrs. Morgan arrived twenty minutes later, they did, too.

Detectives Zaleski and Wertheimer spoke on behalf of the kidnapped shifters.

Father Ramos explained the demons and calmed public hysteria, but only after calming down himself when Kayla and Yoshi presented him with Zachary’s holy sword for safekeeping. That took a few minutes of deep breathing and a shot of Freddy’s 192-proof Polish vodka.

Meanwhile, Freddy started publicly releasing some of Graham Barnard’s computer files. They verified MCC Enterprises’ involvement (“at the highest levels”) in “the incident” and set off an international debate on legal protections for werepeople.

Nobody mentioned the
Homo deific
to any of the outside cops or the press.

AT THE B&B,
the medics scrubbed the blood off my body. They changed me back into my blue jeans and Sanguini’s logo T-shirt. They returned Leander’s watch to Noelle.

My body was laid out in the living room of the main house. It was surrounded by blue glass vases filled with fresh-picked wildflowers.

I locate Aimee resting alone in a small log cabin on the property. She’s propped on lacy pillows. She’s staring off into space on a twin-size brass bed. Her wrist is bandaged. She’s ignoring the cup of tea on the nightstand.

I’m debating whether to materialize when someone knocks.

“Aimee?” It’s Junior. He opens the front door a crack.

No response.

Junior tilts his huge furry head. He shuffles in carrying his enormous white cat, Blizzard. “Your dad is asking if you’ll see him.” He sets the cat on the bed. After kneading the quilt, it stretches — theatrically — over Aimee’s lap and purrs. Her fingers curl into the white fur.

“Freddy called your mom,” Junior adds. “She’s on her way.” He takes the rustic rocking chair beside the end table. “I like it here,” he says. “Reminds me of Granny Z’s cabin.”

No response. I have to give Junior credit. He keeps trying. “I’m sorry about Clyde. Your dad is outside. He wants to know if he can come in.”

Aimee yanks off her sweet-sixteen ring. She tosses it out an open window.

I guess that answers that. Scratching Blizzard’s chin, she says, “The way I see it, once somebody offers their kid as collateral in a bargain with scaly horned hell spawn who kills her beloved Lossom, then adios to bedside chats.” Moments later, she reaches for Junior’s hand. “If you want, you can live in the hideout house, hang out with my friends, and wash dishes at Sanguini’s with me.”

“Like a normal person?” he asks. “With a normal job? How is that possible?”

“All I have to do is ask. Nobody’s going to say no to me today.” It’s only a wisp of a smile, but it’s there. “The neighbors will get used to you, and everyone at the restaurant will think you’re a cosplay genius. Trust me, Austin loves the weird.”

NEARLY TWO WEEKS LATER,
Yoshi secures the newly replaced lock on the front door of Austin Antiques. He’s decked out in a black tux with a white bow tie and vest. He looks like a Eurasian James Bond. Still pissed that his grandmother made him work today, he messages Kayla to say he’s on his way to Pine Ridge.

He’s Mr. Relationship. I haven’t caught him scoping out another girl. Not even when bombshell Quandra Perez strolled into the antiques mall with her mother.

He’s doubled down at school. He joined Aimee’s tae kwon do class. He’s lifting weights at five every morning with his sister.

“My, don’t you look dashing!” Chef Nora surprises Yoshi in front of the Bone Chiller, the SUV that used to be mine. The car is covered in dominoes made from the bones of shape-shifters (an eBay purchase). I donated it months ago to the interfaith coalition.

It’s a huge deal for Nora to abandon Sanguini’s kitchen this close to sundown on a Saturday. She’s still wearing her uniform, complete with kitchen clogs.

“Nora!” Yoshi gives her a hug. “Uh, what’re you doing here?” He runs his palm across the hood. “This is . . . was Clyde’s car.” He’s on the verge of getting choked up again. He was a mess at my funeral. Cried baby-man tears. It was awesome.

Nora presses forward. “Those of us at the coalition thought you might need it for tonight’s mission.” It’s the first time I’ve heard her admit she’s more than “in touch” with the organization. She’s part of it.

Yoshi opens his mouth and closes it again. “Tonight?”

Obviously, the guy’s got plans.

Nora chuckles. “We’re offering you an official field position, hon. You’re going to graduate from high school in a couple of weeks. You’ve proven yourself a cool Cat under pressure, and you come highly recommended by an emeritus operative.”

The chef slips the SUV keys into his palm. His gaze falls on the manila-colored brick antiques mall that used to be his only future. “Me?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Nora says. “It won’t be easy. You’ll be trained in disguise, languages, combat, weapons, diplomacy . . . And right now this vehicle’s too flashy, but that’s nothing some paint can’t fix.” Flashy, my bald Possum tail.

“Speaking for myself, I think you’ve got a bright future in enchanted antiquities,” Nora adds. “But that’s not tonight’s mission.”

Nora is southern reasonableness personified. She’s old enough that arguing with her seems disrespectful. But Yoshi’s got a girlfriend to answer to. “What
is
tonight’s mission?”

Nora opens the driver’s door for him. “Pine Ridge prom.”

THE VETERAN’S CENTER
in Pine Ridge has morphed into Morgan campaign headquarters. Kayla’s dad is running for governor.

Last Thursday the body of the
real
Linnie Lawson was discovered. It was found by a construction company in the process of rehabbing a ratty-looking strip mall. She’d been folded into a freezer found in the back of a mom-and-pop pharmacy. The place had been stocked with MCC Injections’ shift-suppressing vaccine and patches.

According to the autopsy, the governor died in early February. She was poisoned with venom that couldn’t be matched to any known animal species. Sound familiar?

At Morgan campaign central, I spot a few familiar faces. They’re seated at long foldout tables. They’re stuffing envelopes and drinking coffee. The werewolf newlyweds from Daemon Island are wearing Thing One and Thing Two T-shirts from their honeymoon in Orlando. Closest to the stage, Mei is talking to Mrs. Morales about apprenticing as a healer. Her husband, James, is chatting up Dr. Morales about becoming an engineering graduate assistant.

At the next table, Sheriff Bigheart is comparing notes with Detective Zaleski on the “snake of unusual size” spotted yesterday in Lady Bird Lake.

Yoshi’s grandmother is bitching to Eleanora Stubblefield about the deviled eggs served after her twin sister Lula’s funeral. It was last weekend, the day before mine. At my funeral, Ms. Kitahara bitched to my parents about the music, performed live by the Brazos Boys.

After I found out I was, as Aimee says, a Lossum, I wondered if I was a reminder to my parents of their rocky times. I was an idiot. They’re still tearing up at how Pop-Pop Richards insisted on paying for my send-off. He had me buried in the Armadillo royal family plot next to Travis at Magnolia Shade Cemetery. Leander didn’t show up at all, but my name was inscribed in
The Book of Lions
as a prince of the Pride.

It’s not easy, growing up Possum. I’m no angel, but I’ll watch over Clara, Claudette, Cleatus, and Clint every day for the rest of their lives.

Onstage in Pine Ridge, the mayor/gubernatorial candidate is leaning forward in a brown-and-white cowhide chair. It’s on loan from Stubblefield’s Secrets on Main.

A
Capital City News
reporter is poised in a matching chair across from him. She double-checks her voice recorder. “In light of her heroism during the Whispering Pines calamity, your adopted daughter has become a household name.”

That’s what the media is calling it, “a calamity.” They’re trying to sound southwest-y.

She goes on, “But do you think Texans are ready to elect a werecat’s parent, even if he’s human, to the state’s highest office?”

“First off, Kayla is my daughter — period. No qualifications.” Mayor Morgan stands and buttons his jacket as Kayla and Yoshi make their entrance. “Second, that’s a conversation with the people of Texas that I’m looking forward to. If you’ll excuse me for a moment . . .”

Kayla dyed her hair dark again. She’s rocking a strapless, backless sequined gown — it’s royal blue with a rhinestone belt. She’s wearing a cat’s-eye gemstone necklace. It’s the one she gave to Ben on Valentine’s Day. It was retrieved from the carousel by Sheriff Bigheart.

Kayla and Yoshi are meeting Jess and Brenek (it’s a setup) at Lurie’s Steakhouse. They’ll continue to Pine Ridge prom at the opera house. Then they’ll cruise to Austin to party on at Sanguini’s. It’s Waterloo High prom night, too.

Kayla’s had an intense couple of weeks. She’s the cover girl on the inaugural issue of
Shifter Scene
magazine. Cal Tech took out a full-page ad in support of her in the
New York Times.
But her family had to change churches. There’s talk of stripping her state championships in track and cross-country. The National Council for Preserving Humanity staged a protest during Lula’s burial (they were drowned out by the PRHS marching band).

Coffee in hand, Ms. Kitahara moseys across the room. “I hear you’ve got a solid lead on that blasted shifter-human trafficking ring.”

Freddy is marking counties with color-coded pushpins on a mounted map of Texas. “And I hear you wrote the most glowing recommendation in the history of the interfaith coalition for your grandson.”

She uses a purple pushpin to mark Austin Antiques. “Yoshi doesn’t much care for me. Ruby says if I don’t make it better, I’ll lose them both.”

Good for Ruby. Kayla went to Freddy and Nora about Ms. Kitahara’s gun-happy temper. They suggested Yoshi move in to the hideout house with Junior and his cat. You know, to watch over the arctic ass — I mean, to keep the kid company.

Across the hall, campaign volunteers
ooh
and
ahh
at the young Cats in formal attire. This a staged photo op. The
Capital City News
videographer scrambles to take full advantage. Most of the room draws out their handhelds, which flash as they take pics of their own.