Were We Belong Page 6

  “Ruining priceless antiques is your plan?” Bob Hiram squeaked.

  “Do you have a better one?” I asked.

  They were silent as they tried to come up with an answer. There was no way in Hell they would kill me for throwing cheese. Besides, if they tried, I would unleash everything I had on them. And the love of my Lupine life would be right beside me.

  “Boys, you have a choice,” I explained. “Answer the questions and the cheese stays on the tray. Be cryptic and… well, you know…” I smiled and winked at the pissed off trio.

  “They moved several elite teams to guard the death sites from the Jazz Cabbage outbreak,” Bob Harold finally admitted.

  “Why is that worthy of a demotion?” I shot right back, beginning to tip the tray. “Sounds logical to me. Not that I’m crazy about Jones and Clark, but that action doesn’t merit a demotion.”

  “The teams already had other assignments,” Bob Herm, choked out as he watched me in horror.

  I was dangerously close to what I assumed was a very expensive painting that would look excellent smeared in blue cheese.

  “The assignments?” Hank asked as he watched me with amusement.

  “The teams were tracking the shunned,” Bob Harold told Hank with his eyes glued to me. “It wasn’t Clark’s or Jones’s place to make the call to reassign them.”

  Shunned Weres were non-people in our community. I’d seen it happen twice in my life—three women from my own pack who’d been in cahoots with the Dragons and then the former Alpha from the Alabama pack. All four had been deeply involved with the viciously corrupt and now dead side of the WTF Council.

  It was a punishment worse than death to our kind. To be shunned, the crimes had to be beyond heinous. An excommunication from our world was serious and had to be approved by the Council. The punishment was irreversible and devastating.

  Without a pack, a Were had no real power or reason to live. The most concerning issue was that they didn’t reveal themselves to the human world—which was why they were tracked. Most of the shunned usually ended up going into seclusion and dying lonely deaths. It was incredibly hard to exist as a Were without the support of one’s kind. As pack animals the socialization of our community was necessary to our sanity.

  “How many shunned are there?” I asked, finally putting down the cheese tray, much to the relief of the Bobs.

  “Alive or dead?” Bob Harold asked.

  “Jesus Hesus, are you people killing the shunned?” I choked out, wondering if the Bobs had a conscience at all.

  “No. We are not. Most shunned don’t live long after they are banished. The solitary life in exile from our world does the trick,” he replied.

  “So how many has the Council lost track of?” I pressed.

  “Twenty,” Bob Herm said. “It’s not like we keep constant tabs on them, but we do get monthly reports. However, it’s been solved. New teams have been assigned.”

  “Clark and Jones simply need to know their place. They are not decision makers. They are underlings,” Bob Harold stated with a shrug of indifference.

  “I’m going to go a little off subject here,” I said with a humorless smile that made the Bobs grow nervous. “Aside from a name change, the WTF needs to do a little soul searching.”

  “You’re new to the Council, Essie,” Bob Hiram pointed out as he quickly grabbed the cheese tray and placed it out of my reach. “You don’t understand the inner workings of our government.”

  “While this might be true,” I admitted, picking up a large bowl of vegetable dip, “I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind you of a few things.”

  They stood silently and waited. Hank grinned and made himself comfortable on the couch—feet up and all. They wanted new blood on the WTF Council? Fine. They were going to have to listen to what the new blood had to say.

  “The Council is a shit show—all the time. Before I joined, you had members in cahoots with the Dragons. You had members funneling massive amounts of money out of the accounts to cover up illicit sexcapades. You even had members who experimented on agents, trapping Weres in their animal forms for over twenty years— which included my parents. Don’t you find that problematic, boys?”

  “The guilty have all been eliminated. Permanently eliminated,” Bob Harold stated flatly. “Your point?”

  “My point is that power corrupts, dude. You’re running a damned archaic kingdom and we’re not living in the 1500s here. You didn’t even know about the Dragons, the experiment or the sexual shit. Your heads are so far up your own asses that the WTF is falling apart. Me. Me and my friends are the only reason any of these crimes were brought out in the open—Dima, Nicolai, Junior, Sandy, Hank and me. We led you to the three Tinas and the disgusting Giles Giles who were all working with unscrupulous WTF Council members. We killed the freakin’ Dragon King and exposed all the double-dealing of the supposedly untouchable Council. All of the bullshittery would still be happening if it wasn’t for us,” I said in a furious tone. “That is my point.”

  “And that is why you are now on the WTF Council,” Bob Herm shot back as his eyes glowed with displeasure.

  I wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill me or was simply horrified that I’d shed a glaring light on all of the disastrous happenings in the WTF recent history. I didn’t care.

  It was time to make some real changes.

  I didn’t need to hurl the ranch dip at the antiques. That was childish. I wasn’t going to win by destroying their office. It would be fun, but Hank was correct. I needed to take the long game into consideration.

  “We’re changing our name,” I announced as I put the dip down. “It can go up for a vote, but the acronym cannot have the word fuck in it.”

  “Fine,” Bob Hiram ground out.

  “We will not have retreats in Wisconsin ever again. It’s cold there and it sucks.”

  “Do you have any more demands?” Bob Harold inquired, looking as pissed as his cohorts.

  “Dude, I’m just getting started,” I shot back. I was positive I heard Reginald chuckle from the other side of the door. “We’re going to have full disclosure. Open files. Lie detector tests on the remaining Council members. Checks and fucking balances will abound in place. There need to be ramifications for anyone caught operating on the shady side and we abolish the lifelong terms.”

  “Impossible,” Bob Hiram ground out. “It will be chaos.”

  “Like it’s not chaos right now?” Hank inquired, still sitting on the couch.

  Hank’s body appeared relaxed, but I could sense his power begin to float around the room. The Bobs could feel it too. It was menacing and freakin’ sexy. Well, to me it was. The Bobs just seemed perturbed.

  “Your system is broken, jackasses. You can agree to fix it with us or my friends and I can do it without you,” I explained, talking to them like they were three years old. “We’re in danger of being revealed to the humans. That would be all kinds of awesome. Can’t you just imagine Shifters of all species being incarcerated and experimented on by the humans? Sooooo fun! The time of pitchforks and being burned at the stake would do wonders for our morale—not to mention our lifespans. Demons are infiltrating our secret world. And all I see you boobs doing about it is having lunch meetings in your fancy office. Get your boring heads out of the sand or we’re gonna be done.”

  “Fine. We’ll make changes,” Bob Harold said as the other Bobs gasped in shock. “Solve the Devil’s Lettuce issue and then we will take all your suggestions under consideration.”

  I shook my head. They really didn’t get it. “It’s not a negotiation or suggestion. You put Hank and me on the Council. We have as much power and say as you do. If that’s not the case, we resign,” I said and then looked quickly to Hank to make sure it was okay that I was speaking for both of us. He gave me a thumbs up and a sexy lopsided grin.

  “No one can resign from the Council,” Bob Harold snapped. “It’s never been done.”

  “There are a lot of things that have never been done�
�� yet,” I countered coldly. “And we’re about to do them.”

  The Bobs digested my words unhappily. However, it was clear they’d finally heard me. They might not have enjoyed what they’d heard, but I’d said my piece.

  “As you wish,” Bob Herm said quietly.

  “Blood oath,” I demanded as all three of them raised their brows in surprise.

  “You don’t trust us?” Bob Hiram inquired with the smallest beginnings of a smile I’d ever witnessed.

  “Nope,” I said with a tiny smile of my own. “You haven’t given me much reason to, dude.”

  Without another word, Bob Harold pulled a wicked looking dagger from his coat pocket and sliced his palm. The two other Bobs followed suit and a blood oath was born. I was shocked and secretly delighted. Maybe… just maybe… we could make this work.

  The times… they were definitely a-changin’.

  Chapter Six

  “Seth believes there might be more to the photos of the crime scenes than the naked eye can see,” Nicolai said with a mouth full of taco.

  “Explain,” I said as I pulled my pile of tacos closer to me. If anyone so much as looked at one of my tacos, they would lose an eyeball. “Did he see something we missed?”

  “No,” Dima said, also hoarding her tacos. “But he has a feeling. He’s studied the pictures for days and he doesn’t see anything more than we do.”

  Since Seth was a seer, I took his observations seriously.

  “The files are in Hung. We can look them over again in a few hours,” I said, wishing I’d brought them with me.

  We were holed up in one of Dwayne’s houses in Lincolnshire, Illinois. Dwayne owned more real estate around the world than anyone I knew. Dima, Hank and I had used this house before as a safe house. It was charming and right smack in the middle of a human residential neighborhood.

  “So what does Seth suggest?” Hank asked, quickly shoving tacos into his mouth before someone tried to pilfer one.

  Yes. The tacos were that good.

  Dima swallowed before she spoke. She had better manners than any of us. “He said to make sure Junior takes a good look at them. He might be able to enhance the photos and find something.”

  “I have a burner phone,” I said, reaching into my back pocket while still keeping my body positioned over my tacos. I loved my friends and my mate, but no one was to be trusted where tacos were concerned. “I’ll text him and get him and Sandy on it. Anything else?”

  “Not really,” Dima said, licking the hot sauce off the wrapper. “He likes his job so far, but he’s still being treated like the enemy. Although, Seth is so chill and likable that people are starting to come around.”

  Maybe her manners weren’t so great…

  “Sadly Dragons are going to have a rough time joining the rest of the species,” Hank said with a shake of his head. “It’ll take time, patience and probably a few challenges from other Weres until you’re on more of an even footing.”

  Nodding, I agreed. “However, Seth is the perfect person in the position.”

  “I concur,” Nicolai said. “My brother is the epitome of peace and goodness. I would have incinerated the building by now.” He paused, and an evil little smirk began to pull at his lips. “I’d like to say something controversial.”

  “Will it make me gag?” I asked.

  “No,” Nicolai promised with a chuckle. “But it might cause a fist fight.”

  We mulled over the possibility of a friendly smackdown.

  “I’m fine with that as long as no weapons are used, no one shifts and no one uses excessive magical force in the brawl,” I stated diplomatically. It might be a nice way to blow off a little steam from today.

  “Sounds fair to me,” Hank said, eyeing my last taco.

  “I’m cool,” Dima said, watching her mate with amusement.

  “Okay, hear me out before you attack,” Nicolai said with a huge grin, obviously enjoying the build-up to whatever horrible thing he was about to share. “I’m going out on a limb and saying that these tacos might be tastier than Juju’s pizza.”

  The gasps from all—including me—almost made me choke on my Mexican feast.

  Eating Juju’s pizza was as close to a religious experience as I’d ever come. Nicolai was being blasphemous. However… he might have a point. The tacos were damned heavenly.

  Juju was a Rabbit shifter back on Hung Island who made the best pizza known to man and Shifter. It was so damned good that all Weres of every species in the tri-state area had voluntarily given up eating rabbit in their animal form. No one would take the risk of accidentally eating Juju. No one.

  “Duuuuude,” I said, choking back a laugh. “That is an intense statement.”

  “Right?” Nicolai said with a laugh. “But go with me here. I’d be willing to duke it out with my own woman if she went for my taco.”

  “I feel you,” Dima said with a giggle. “I’d knock you out cold.”

  “I bloodied Junior’s nose over these tacos,” Hank said slowly, clearly putting a lot of thought into the dilemma. “However, I’ve also kicked his ass over a large Juju’s pepperoni. I think I’m going to have to call it a draw.”

  “I’m with Hank. It just feels too traitorous to dis the Juju,” I said, now grinning as well.

  “So no fight?” Nicolai asked, disappointed.

  “Nope,” I told him. “Dwayne had to do a major renovation after the last time we were here. I don’t think he would be thrilled if we destroyed his house again.”

  “Speaking of destruction,” Dima said with a raised brow as she popped the last of her taco pile into her mouth. “The Bobs are still breathing?”

  “Yep. At least they are for today. Tomorrow is anyone’s call.”

  The fight back home to Hung Island was no less terrifying than the flight to Chicago. I seriously regretted eating the fourteen tacos I’d inhaled. We made it back alive, but my hair would probably never recover.

  “Day-um,” Junior shouted as we landed on the Wilson’s property. “I wanna Dragon ride too.”

  “No, you don’t,” I muttered as I tried to find my land legs without hurling up my tacos. “Did you discover anything odd in the crime scene photos?”

  “Possibly,” Junior said as he and Sandy and the rest of the gang oohed and ahhed over the Dragons. “I can’t make it out. We need someone with x-ray vision.”

  “Like Superman,” Sandy chimed in. “Although, the first person with x-ray vision in a comic book was Olga Mesmer in the 1937 Spicy Mysteries. And in mythology, it was Lynceus of the Argonauts who possessed a similar ability.”

  We all just stared at her. Sandy’s brain worked like no one else’s.

  “That was too much, wasn’t it?” she asked, blushing in embarrassment.

  “Baby, that was so freakin’ hot if there weren’t people here, I’d strip you nekkid and make you see Jesus Hesus right now,” Junior shouted joyously, bent over at the waist in pain from his member’s appreciation of his mate’s innate knowledge of everything nerdy.

  “TMI, Junior,” Hank said, swatting the back of his brother’s head.

  “My bad, bro,” Junior replied still jackknifed forward. “I blew the photos up and something is off. I just can’t put my finger on it. And I think there might be something important to the locations.”

  “God,” I muttered with a shudder. “Having to stare at the normal sized photos is gut-wrenching. I don’t know if I can look at them enlarged.”

  “We have to,” Hank said, growing serious. “If there’s a clue in them, we need it. If we can avoid having Belphegor raise the dead, that would be a very good thing.”

  “A freakin’ Zombie apocalypse would let the world know we existed,” Granny pointed out, playing Scrabble on her phone.

  “Possibly. Possibly not,” I countered, thinking about what Granny had said. “Dwayne, if Belphegor raises the dead… can he make them dead again?”

  Dwayne had changed outfits in the five hours we’d been gone. He was now in th
e requisite black that we were all wearing. However, his choice of battle wear was a black off the shoulder knit top and matching gauchos with sparkly black kitten heels. It was appalling, yet he made it work.

  “Tricky question, Doll. And honestly, I’m not sure,” Dwayne said, snapping pictures on his phone of the Dragons in all their glory. “Technically, as Zombies, they’re still dead. Awfully hard to kill something dead. I know this first hand being that I’m a fashionably dead bloodsucker.”

  Shit. This was a wrinkle that hadn’t been considered yet. And I’d bet my perky B cups that the Bobs hadn’t thought about it either.

  “Is there any non-comic book kind of supernatural that has x-ray vision?” I asked as I watched Granny drop kick her phone into the woods.

  She got pissed off at the computer-generated Scrabble player on a regular basis. Granny went through phones like Dwayne went through outfits. Shouting at the flying phone, she marched off into the woods to retrieve it.

  “Vampyres have it,” Dwayne said. “Well, certain Vamps have it.”

  “Do you?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t,” he replied and then turned his attention to Granny who was still cussing up a storm at her phone as she rejoined us. “But there’s someone else here who might.”

  “Why in Dwayne’s pink panties is everyone staring at me?” Granny demanded, narrowing her eyes. “Haven’t you ever seen anyone punt a phone before? Very satisfying—especially when the dang computer bastard cheats at Scrabble.”

  “I don’t wear panties,” Dwayne reminded Granny. “Although, if I did, I would look fabu in pink.”

  “Whoops, my bad. Next time I’ll be more accurate,” she promised with a wink.

  “Wait. The computer cheats?” Sandy asked, still mulling over the second half of Granny’s diatribe. “Do you think the Scrabble site got hacked?”

  As Sandy was a superb hacker herself, everything electronic fascinated her.

  “Must have,” Granny griped, swinging her phone in the air. “I mean, it’s just a fucktangle of hairless cats. I was winning and then I wasn’t.”