She focused on her box and moved on, even as she could feel he wanted her to stop and talk.
She ignored the feeling and stepped off a curb, looked both ways, and jaywalked across the street, then followed the sidewalk two miles straight into town, the traffic and businesses both increasing in density as she walked.
She found the tiny red-brick building with the sign proclaiming,
You Need It
, over the incredibly cute red and white door. She tested the door and, finding it unlocked, pushed inside, her eyes flying to the counter, hoping Mrs. White would be the one working.
She was. Ella blew out a breath and headed over, dropping the box heavily on the glass display case that served as a counter.
"Dear," Mrs. White said. "You made it. I was starting to wonder if you found anything at all."
Ella stared at the woman, unable to respond. Mrs. White was probably in her eighties, with a heavily lined face and a kind smile. She always dressed up, wearing costume jewelry and elaborate outfits. But today, she'd done the unthinkable, in Ella's mind.
Her hat was fine. An orange felt hat with a velvet bow. Her jacket was fine. Wool maybe. But the thing draped over her shoulders made Ella's heart beat faster and her palms sweat.
Mrs. White, not noticing Ella’s discomfort, smiled at her and opened the box, taking out an item at a time. "Oh, this is nice. I can give you a hundred up front for this. All this jewelry here, it's not worth much separately, but as a lot, maybe, let's say, fifty dollars. This set won't sell here, but you can try Lucy’s consignment shop, two doors down." Her voice dropped as she dug farther into the box and her breath hitched. "Whatever is this?" she said, and Ella, even in her state, could hear the wonderment there.
Ella's eyes traced the fur and tail and eyes and teeth of the thing Mrs. White had draped over her shoulders. Old? Or new? Because that made a difference. Ella thought old.
From the corner of her eye, Ella could see Mrs. White examining the pendant and she tried to pay attention. It was the only thing in the box she thought might have any real value.
"Gorgeous," Mrs. White breathed, holding the pendant approximately two inches from her eyes. "Is it real gold?" she asked. "It has to be real gold." She dropped it to her arm and rubbed, then triumphantly showed Ella the black mark. "It is, it's real gold. And the eyes of the wolf? Yellow diamond? No. Too bright. Maybe yellow sphene. Or tourmaline." She clicked her tongue and hurried to the wall behind her, holding the pendant tight in her hand, then returning with a jeweler's loupe and holding it to her eye. When she looked back at Ella, an excited smile crossed her face. "What is the story behind this piece?"
Ella shook her head. "No story. I found it in the attic. I don't know."
"How much?" Mrs. White said, her eyes suddenly shrewd.
Ella's gaze flopped down to the full fox stole around Mrs. White's shoulders. "I-I don't know. What is it worth?" she asked in a much smaller voice than she had intended.
"I'll give you two thousand for it," Mrs. White said, her lips tight, her voice cold for the first time. She moved to the register and pressed a button. "Cash. Actually, I'll give you three thousand for everything in the box."
Ella couldn't think. She knew she shouldn't take it. Should investigate more. But the fox stole had distracted her. Stolen her right mind. Besides, she didn't want that pendant anyway. Didn't want to have to take it away from here if she struck a hard bargain and lost.
"I'll take it."
"Good." Mrs. White counted out thirty one-hundred dollar bills and put them in Ella's hand, then made the box and the pendant disappear. "A pleasure, dear. Do come back if you find anything else you think I might like. I'll pay you a good price." Her voice was warm again.
Ella nodded, shoved the money deep in her pocket and turned to go, but her heart wouldn't let her. She turned back. "Sorry, ah, Mrs. White, ah, I wanted to ask you about your fox."
The older woman's hands went to the decorative item and caressed its head right between its tiny, silky ears. "Yes, dear?"
"Do you, regularly, ah, buy fur?"
Mrs. White's eyes narrowed and Ella saw her go defensive. Ella held up her hands and spoke in a rush, her heart beating fast in her chest, her muscles tight as if for battle. "Look, Mrs. White, I don't want to offend you, and I can see that stole is probably an heirloom, something you've had for years. It's beautiful and I can understand why you would want to wear it. But when you wear fur, you support the fur industry, even if this piece was killed for food and cleaned by your own two hands. If someone in your shop sees it and thinks it's gorgeous, do you think they are going to go out and humanely kill an animal, use it as food, and make a stole themselves? No, they are going to go to a store and buy a fur. That's what we do these days."
Ella made the mistake of taking a breath and Mrs. White launched her defensive that suddenly seemed more like an offensive. Like she had the vitriol stored up and had never liked Ella in the first place. "That certainly isn't my problem, Fern Gabriela Carmi." She nodded harshly as Ella took a step backwards, surprise showing on her face. "That's right, your aunt told me all about you. Your real name. Your liberal beliefs. That you stay up all night finding petitions to sign on the internet. The way you never learned to drive and didn't finish college. How your own mother thought you were a freak! How dare you come in here and tell me what to do? Just because you think our woods should be full of dangerous animals like wolves and cougars and bears doesn't mean you're right. Animals like that were driven from the area for a reason!"
Ella wanted to ask how dangerous fox were to people, but she knew there was no point. Mrs. White had already formed all her opinions and wasn't open to learning anything new. She pressed her lips together and forced her hands to relax, unable to help a final, couched jab. "I’m sorry. I see you have made up your mind. I had hoped to share some facts with you about the cruelty of the industry and some very simple ways it could be changed, but if you don't care about animal welfare, I won't bother."
She turned quickly, forcing herself not to run out the door, but instead taking slow, deliberate steps and allowing Mrs. White to throw insults at her back without response. As she pushed the door open, an eerie thought seemed to force itself into her mind in a way she'd never felt before, even with how crazy she’d felt for the last year.
She's close. I can feel it.
Ella faltered at the intrusion and her feet tangled together, spilling her forward and jamming her shoulder into the door, hard, as shame spread through her.
She
had
to get out of there before Mrs. White saw her have one of her episodes. Even if she blacked out on the street or stood there like an idiot with her brain elsewhere, that was ok as long as Mrs. White didn't have a front-row seat to it.
Trevor shook his head in utter disbelief. “You don’t schedule a rut, they just happen.”
Mac pulled out a chair and sat opposite the deputy chief, refusing to look Trevor in the eye. His voice was haughty, hostile still. “They
used
to just happen. But with no females, that’s impossible now. We can’t sit around and pretend the males don’t need it. Things are getting dangerous. You know what happened last full moon.”
Finally, Mac snatched a look at Trevor, but Trevor could only shake his head. He knew…?
Mac snorted, disgusted and looked away. “Of course you don’t know. Some fucking leader.”
Trevor sank into a chair at the end of the table and looked to Wade for help.
“Harlan almost killed someone. A patrol officer. The patrol officer said something flippant about mates.”
Trevor dropped his head onto his hands, elbows on the table and spoke, almost to himself. “Harlan? But he’s our most level-headed guy. Our most─”
Mac cut in. “He shifted, then tore Pickett’s throat open and ate some of his ear. Poor guy was knocked unconscious immediately. Couldn’t shift. We had to send him to surgery.
Surgery
for shit’s sake! And then four of the guys pulling Harlan off got into a fight. It was a fucking mess and it’s not going to get any better unless we have a rut. The males need it.”
Trevor looked to the ceiling, as if hoping to find the answers there, then back down. “And Harlan?”
Wade nodded slowly. “No punishment. I dealt with him myself. Looked into his heart. Consulted with Rhen. She holds him blameless and agrees with Mac that a rut is needed.
Shiften
were made to breed regularly. To have mates. The full moon is a tricky time, the drive to have sex so strong in order to ensure many pups. Without pups, we die. Without females to mate with to make those pups, you are adrift. No anchor. No calming presence. Nothing to hold us together as
shiften
. You can fight and punish and raise hell all day, but you have forgotten how to love. Harlan is only an example.”
Trevor eyed the Deputy Chief sourly, noting his change of pronouns during his speech. He was one of only a few
shiften
in the world who did have a mate. So he still knew how to love, apparently.
Mac spun his chair towards the door. “I don’t know why we even have to tell
him
about it. It’s not like he’s going to fucking show up.”
Trevor bit his anger back. “Because I’m the fucking leader of the KSRT, that’s why. One step below Wade himself. I’m in charge here and you need to remember that.”
Mac swung to face him, his smile evil. “Yes Your Pupness. I’ll remember that, Your Great Mongrel Highness. Even when you act more like a little kitten rolling over to show your belly to Khain.”
Trevor growled, the noise building in his throat and echoing throughout the room.
Mac laughed. “What are you gonna do without your brothers to hide behind?”
Trevor stood up and faced Mac offensively. Mac wanted to go? They were gonna go. Trevor couldn’t take one more second of his shit. He popped the civilized balloon in his head that kept him in human form and felt his claws elongate, his nose turn to muzzle, his─
It all stopped. Mid-shift. Trevor struggled against the bind but could do nothing. His bones screamed in protest, caught half-way between human and wolf. He rolled his eyes to Mac, burning when he saw him silently smirking, enjoying the show.
Wade stood up out of his chair and walked to Trevor slowly, each step a vibrating brand to Trevor’s eardrums and lungs. Wade stood straight in front of him and commanded his eye. Trevor felt his half-shift reverse itself until he stood in human form again, but still unable to move, speak, or even breathe. If Wade didn’t release him soon, he would die. He knew that now, even though he hadn’t been bound for this long since he’d been a pup.
Trevor gave up. He was ready to die. Ready for this shitty excuse of a life to be over. No mother. No sisters. No females. No mates. No softness. No anything that made life good or worth living for. Nothing but the relentless pursuit of a demon who could not be caught. Could not be stopped.
Revenge just wasn’t enough anymore.
But as soon as Trevor relaxed, Wade released him, spilling him into his chair.
Wade stared down at him, disappointment written on his face. “You’re the leader for a reason, Trevor, and it’s not because you are the strongest or the smartest. You have a destiny, and you will not fulfill it by taking Mac’s bait.”
Trevor sagged in his chair. He didn’t have words to respond. All he had left was void. Nothingness. The terror of the bind then the surrender had washed away even his desire to find his One True Mate, if he had one. All he wanted was to jump off a bridge. Be done with it all. Let Mac have the command he wanted so badly. He might even do a better job. Maybe Mac was right, maybe Trevor was the kink in the system. Trevor had never believed he was the
shiften
mentioned in the
Savior
or the
Demon Death
prophecy. That disbelief had haunted him his entire life, even when the
Citlali
directly opposed his disbelief, he still felt like a fraud every moment he worked with the KSRT, every moment he hunted Khain. He would never be allowed to step down, but if he was gone… Well, they’d have to take a closer look at those prophecies, now wouldn’t they?
But first he had to get out of this room.
He heard the robotic tone in his voice and hoped no one knew what it meant. He spoke first to Wade, who was pacing behind him. “Sorry, Deputy Chief. You’re right. A rut. Let’s schedule it. You work out the details, Mac.”
Wade patted Trevor’s shoulder, then his eyes widened, and he stared at Trevor for several moments, before taking a few steps away.
Mac didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared. Finally he spoke. “You don’t even want to know where we are going to get the females?”
Trevor spoke without thinking. “Hookers?”
Mac nodded, seeming surprised. “Among others. I thought you’d have a problem with a bunch of cops hiring hookers.”
That same blank nothingness swirled through Trevor, removing any stray desire to care ever again what any member of the Serenity PD did.
“Yeah, but if it’s our only choice, it’s our only choice.”
Mac stared at him again. Trevor avoided his eye, trying to think of where and how he would do it. A bridge? His service revolver? The end of a rope? He didn’t allow himself to think about what would happen after. He would return to the Light. That was all. He hoped.
“You don’t have any complaints at all?” Mac wheedled. “You don’t want to lecture me on the dangers of half-breeds or tell me how we should be looking for One True Mates, not hookers?”
Trevor sucked in a breath. Mac knew him well. Knew exactly what he would be thinking. He waved his hand. “You know as well as I do it’s hard for us to get humans pregnant. And half-breeds aren’t dangerous, just… unpredictable. Like humans.” He sighed, knowing he needed to admit it. “What do I know about the One True Mates? No more than anyone. Maybe you’ll find some among the hookers.”
Mac laughed long and hard at that. “You giving up, Trev-Trev? I almost like you better with a little spunk in you. Almost.”