Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Griff: What do surfing and oil have in common?
Ruby: Ugh. Not another one of your surfer jokes.
Griff: They’re both measured by the barrel! *lol*
Cal: Heh. I’ve got one. What does Popeye use as lube?
Harper: How did we get from surfing to lube?
Cal: Olive Oyl ! Mwhahaha!
Ruby: Ewww. Do you need my Feminist Fist of Fury to enlighten you yet again?
Harper: I’m more than happy to help with his re-education, dear Ruby. Cal’s a total heathen who needs to learn some manners.
Cal: Tag-teaming it, eh? I could be into that. I am pan and open to poly, after all. *winky face emoji*
Griff: Cal’s cruisin’ for a bruisin’, as they say.
Dallas: Ooh! I’ve got an oil joke too. Why shouldn’t you buy essential oils from a cat?
Griff: Go, Cap!
Cal: Save me now. Not your cat obsession again.
Dallas: It’s a purr-amid scheme!
—MEOW Squad Group Text Thread
Griffin
“We’ve got a rescue to pick up!” Dallas bellows as the door to my bedroom slams open.
It’s been reinforced so it doesn’t shatter or get yanked off its hinges.
After a few too many of those events when we first moved in, we had to fortify parts of the house to make them Dallas-proof.
His unexpected wake-up call jolts me out of a deep sleep and a rather nice dream about participating in a seriously epic corn dog eating competition. I nearly fall out of bed, my heart hammering double time.
Holy crap!
I wipe the sleep drool from my chin— I blame it on those fantasy corn dogs, dammit! —and blink up at the man towering in my doorway.
Dallas isn’t exactly a soft-spoken guy, even less so when he’s on a mission or amped up about something.
I’ve never met a Bearkin more… bear-like than him.
I grin up at him. My captain’s so freaking cool.
“Up and at ’em, kid!” he barks out jovially before heading down the hall and doing the same wake-up call for the rest of our team.
I don’t need an alarm when I’ve got a Dallas, that’s for sure.
Yanking on clothes, I glance at my phone and frown. 4:30 a.m.? That can’t be good. Early calls like this are usually serious cases.
Damn. I won’t be able to get any early morning surfing in today.
Hurrying to my bathroom, I wash my face and brush my teeth in record time. Then, brimming with energy, I bound downstairs to find everyone gathering in the kitchen.
“What’s the story, Cap?” I ask, bouncing on my feet and raring to go.
“Simmer down, Sunshine Boy,” Ruby says around a wide, open-mouthed yawn. “Not all of us are annoyingly chipper morning people.”
Ruby’s an elemental witch with amazing healing powers and the only woman on our team at the moment. Her name happens to match the stunning color of her curly mane of hair, and she’s got a full, curvy figure that she tends to clothe in long, flowy skirts and peasant tops; it’s what she calls her boho witchy aesthetic. She has a ring on every finger and jangly bracelets on each wrist.
Ruby’s as talented as she is gorgeous, and her skills have saved our asses more times than I can count.
I beam at her and my tail swishes happily, thumping against the side of the kitchen island.
Dallas hands me a thermos full of coffee exactly the way I like it, with a ton of sugar and cream, then repeats the gesture for the other members of our team. He goes through the same attentive process as he passes out bagels with cream cheese.
Well, he skips Harper, but that’s to be expected since he’s a vampire and therefore on a specific kind of liquid diet.
I can’t hold back a huge grin. Our not-so-secret nickname for Dallas, Papa Bear, is spot on. He’s a total caregiver, always making sure we’re fed and healthy. A lot of folks are intimidated the first time they meet him. I know I was in total awe. Even for a Bearkin, he’s huge, easily seven feet tall, and thickly padded with muscle. His dark brown hair falls to his shoulders in wild, thick waves, and his bushy beard is pretty damn amazing in my opinion.
I suppose I could see where some might find his exterior a smidge scary at first glance. After all, his hands are about the size of actual bear paws. But his eyes tell another story. They’re genuinely warm and kind, just like Dallas.
Big, dangerous bear on the outside, warm, gooey cinnamon roll on the inside.
He also has the cutest rounded fuzzy bear ears on the top of his head that soften his appearance and make you just want to cuddle with him like he’s a giant teddy bear. I speak from experience; he gives the best hugs.
That said, don’t fuck with anyone or anything that Dallas cares about, especially us, his team of misfits, since we’re all basically family at this point. Dallas always has tight control over his Bearkin abilities, but with the right provocation, he can be truly deadly. He’s even got these epic retractable bear claws that would give Wolverine a run for his money.
Like I said, so freaking cool!
“God, I’d kill for a cigarette right about now,” Cal mutters as he gulps down his black coffee like it’s precious fuel keeping his body running.
I still have no idea how he can drink it like that, completely undoctored and so hot it must burn his entire esophagus on the way down.
The most prickly member of our team, Cal is our only mage and is not a morning person. His dark gray eyes are bloodshot and his naturally silver-white hair is a tousled mess that still manages to look totally punk rock somehow. This morning he’s wearing black jeans and a matching black T-shirt with the words My magic can kick your magic’s ass written across the front. He’ll probably put on a jacket before we leave, but right now the amazing black sigils that cover his arms and look like moving tattoos are on full display.
He’s also seriously badass and inspires me on the daily.
Some days I can’t believe I get to live and work with such awesome people. They’re my family now and I love them all so much.
Then my brain, which can be a little slow, catches up, and Cal’s words make me worry my bottom lip, unable to hold back a faint whine. “Cal, you promised. You swore you’d quit smoking for good.”
He blinks at me and then groans. “Fucking hell, Griff. Don’t give me the damn puppy-dog eyes, not first thing in the bloody morning. They’re too powerful.”
Saving Cal from his own self-destructive habits is one of my main priorities in life, so I widen my eyes even more, using every tool at my disposal, and clasp my hands together over my heart. I let my ears twitch for good measure. “You’re like family to me, Cal. My soul brother. I love you, and I just don’t want you to get sick. Mages aren’t immune to carcinogens. Besides, you’ve been doing so well. It’s been three whole months. Please stick with it. You can do it!”
He lets out a long-suffering sigh and wipes a hand down his face. Finally, he gives in, and with a lopsided grin, he leans over and flicks my forehead.
It’s his weird way of showing affection.
My tail immediately starts swishing, and I grin back.
Cal can be a bit rough around the edges, but it’s totally a self-protective front. Underneath it all, he’s incredibly loyal and caring when it comes to those he trusts. Although he likes to tease me, he’d probably gut anyone who ever tried to hurt me.
The notion is as terrifying as it is kind of awesome. My actual bio family probably wouldn’t lift a finger for me, expecting me to fight back on my own even though that’s totally not my personality.
“I swear, you’re like the younger brother and family dog I never had, all in one,” he says while he ruffles my shaggy hair. “Fine. I’ll keep my promise. Give me some of that gum of yours that I like.”
My tail picks up speed and I bounce on my toes again as I hand him some of the grape-flavored brand I always keep in my pocket.
Dallas clears his throat. “Ahem. If we can get back to business?”
Everyone mumbles their agreement around mouthfuls of food and coffee.
Dallas’s expression turns serious. “We’ve got a new admit at the shelter over in Encino. The guy’s in rough shape. Sounds like forced captivity, probably long-term abuse. He escaped from whoever had him locked up, and it’s likely that they’re looking to bring him back.”
I bristle and a growl escapes from low in my throat.
Ruby slurps her coffee loudly and then snarls from around a mouthful of bagel, “Trafficking?”
“Not sure, but definitely the use of a magical control device that could allow his captors to track him.” Dallas directs a pointed look at Cal. “We’ll need you to find a way to get it safely off him.”
Already looking much perkier, Cal grins at Dallas’s words and blows a bubble with his gum, then lets it pop. “You got it, Cap. It’s been a while since I had a good challenge.”
Dallas turns his gaze to Ruby. “We’re going to need your power as well. He’s injured but stable.”
She finishes the last bite of her bagel and licks her fingers. “No problem.”
As if coming to a decision, Harper brandishes his beautiful black satin parasol in the air. “What are we waiting for?”
Today he’s wearing a stunning sapphire-blue silk cheongsam dress decorated with white embroidered flowers. It hugs his lithe body perfectly and the high slit on one side showcases his long, elegant legs. His waist-length black hair is pulled up in an elaborate bun fastened with an ornate clip that sparkles in the light.
Half-Chinese on his mother’s side, Harper identifies as male but prefers to wear women’s clothing and embrace his femininity. I don’t blame him. He’s by far one of the most beautiful people I know and makes every outfit look stunning. But from what I understand, cross-dressing vampires were not approved of in his family, which is one of the main reasons he decided to leave his home and join us instead.
We all have a somewhat similar story. It’s not exactly an exaggeration to say we’re a team of oddballs even among Otherkind.
I just think we’re lucky to have all found each other.
Dallas’s round bear ears give a little wiggle on the top of his head. “Let’s ride to the rescue, team!”
His order gets us all moving in silent accord as we file into the garage and take our usual spots in the souped-up eight-seater SUV we use for work. In scant minutes, we’re leaving our massive compound in Malibu and heading to the shelter.
Riding shotgun, I scarf down my bagel and drink the last of the coffee in my thermos as we barrel down the freeway. By the time I’m done, I’m wide awake and practically vibrating with energy.
Dallas chuckles. “Simmer down, Griff. My contact at the shelter told me the guy’s in stable physical condition.”
I crack my knuckles. “Can’t help it. This could be tied to some of the trafficking cases we’ve been called in on lately. They just keep getting worse and more frequent. We’ve got to find out who’s behind all of this.”
Our team is a bit of a covert operation. We’re sanctioned by the main Otherkind Council but work outside the parameters of the human authorities most of the time. Mainly, we deal with the kinds of cases human agencies aren’t interested in pursuing. Los Angeles isn’t a Sanctuary Haven where Otherkind species are safe from danger, protected by the mysterious magic such places possess. Such towns are rare and far more remote. Cities like LA are ruled by humans and we’re still second-class citizens in the eyes of most.
Dallas reaches over and pats my head the way I like. I press into his touch.
It’s a Wolfkin thing. Don’t judge.
“Believe me, I get it. Have patience, Griff. We’ll keep doing everything we can to help rescue missing and endangered Otherkind. That’s our mission after all. If, as we suspect, there is a bigger trafficking ring at work, we’ll bring them down some day. Until then, we have to focus on what we can do here and now.”
Harper leans over the console from his position in the seat behind me. “I can smell your agitation. Are you all right, Griffin?” His voice is as refined and almost musical as always. He apparently grew up in Hong Kong when it was still a crown colony of England. Fully bilingual, his speech has a British lilt but also reflects the influence of his own native Cantonese.
“Yeah, I’m letting myself get a bit too worked up. I’ll focus on my breathing exercises.”
“I say we should just execute any of the traffickers we find,” Cal chimes in. I lean over in my seat and crane my neck to see him slouched against the window where he’s seated in the back row of the SUV. “Fuck those monsters. They don’t deserve to live if you ask me.”
Dallas sighs heavily. “That’s not helpful, Callum Keating. Unless lives are in imminent danger, we must follow protocol and hand over anyone we capture to the Otherkind Council.”
Ruby snickers. “Ha! You got full-named, Cal!”
Dallas usually only does that when we’re in trouble.
Total Papa Bear, amirite?
Cal sticks out his tongue and flips her the bird. “Fuck you too, Ruby Sue. I said what I said and I stand by it.”
They start bickering like siblings, and I tune them out.
A big part of me agrees with Cal, but I don’t say anything. Far too many of my kind have been targets for human traffickers looking to sell and abuse vulnerable Otherkind to anyone willing to buy us. Wolfkin, for instance, are often viewed as little better than animals by some humans.
Then again, some Otherkind can be equally prejudiced for other reasons.
I clench my fists as unpleasant memories flit through my mind.
For the rest of the ride, my leg jiggles with nervous energy, and I’m grateful Dallas doesn’t say anything. He knows me and how I deal with stuff after so long.
We make good time—never a guarantee when it comes to LA traffic—and arrive at the shelter in a respectable thirty-five minutes. Climbing out of the vehicle, we all head for the building. Harper pops open his parasol, which looks super chic with his outfit but can also convert into some kind of weapon if necessary.
Vampires aren’t unable to go out in the sun like silly human movies suggest, but their skin is very sensitive to UV rays, so Harper wears heavy sunscreen and uses a parasol when out during daylight hours. He told me the weapon thing was just an extra precautionary measure.
But I’ve seen him in action. He’s strong and far more deadly than most of our team members. Harper hasn’t divulged much about his life before he joined us, so a lot of his background is still a mystery to me.
Then again, we’ve all got secrets we don’t want to share.
Eager to help, I bound toward the building, only to be momentarily brought up short by the captivating glint of something bright and shiny on the ground.
No one else seems to notice it, but I stop and squat down to examine it when I get close enough.
A… gold coin?
A big one too.
Unable to contain my curiosity, I pick it up.
I admit it, I’m basically Peregrine Took, unable to not touch the bright, shiny, interesting thing.
And one thing this coin does is shine, the early morning sun making it sparkle in my hand. Nothing explodes and no alarms blare, so things are probably cool.
I hope.
I study the coin some more and my brow furrows in concentration.
Surely this can’t be real gold… right?
It looks pretty darn real though.
I turn it over in my hand. Engraved on one side is a raven and on the other a dragon.
Sweet!
I grin from ear to ear. My old high school D&D friends would lose their freaking minds over this.
My mouth drops open when a looping script starts to appear on the dragon side of the coin.
Whoa. It’s just like when the secret writing appeared on the One Ring for Frodo.
But rather than Elvish or something equally cool, it reads in English: It’s YOUR lucky day!
Okay, now I’m suspicious.
Maybe it’s some kind of weird advertisement for an underground casino?
Or maybe it’s part of a scam, you dolt.
I blink a few times and squint as I study the coin, but the writing—that definitely hadn’t been there before—remains.
While I don’t entirely trust this slightly sketchy gold coin, I’m also oddly reluctant to let it go, so I pocket it to deal with later.
Besides, if I start falling into any Gollum-esque “ my precious” bullshit, I’ll ditch it.
Nothing to worry about, Griffin McIntyre. You’ve got this.
I nod assuredly to myself, tail flicking, as I hurry to catch up with the others.
I’ll be sure to show the coin to Cal later and get his take. He’ll know what’s going on with it for sure.
We’re met at the shelter entrance by a kind-looking orc, her light green face lined with wrinkles and her gray hair tied back in a simple braid. “Thank you for coming,” she says, ushering us inside. “I’m Mara and I run this shelter.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Dallas and this is my team.”
Mara holds a hand to her cheek. “I wasn’t sure what to do with this case.”
“You did the right thing by calling us, Mara,” Dallas says. “What can you tell us?”
She gestures to a younger woman who watches us with a worried but wary expression from around a corner.
“His name is Shae Silverstorm. Emma here can tell you more than me, though,” Mara explains.
The young woman steps forward. She’s short and athletically built, and currently dressed in ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie. She’s shaved her dyed lavender hair closer on the sides and allowed the top to grow longer, and overall, she seems wary of us.
She lifts her chin and crosses her arms. “You’re here to help my friend, right? You won’t take him back to the people who hurt him?”
The fact that she’s facing down Dallas like this, when she’s a fraction of his size, is impressive. But my empathic magic is sensing a lot of emotional turmoil and fear coming from her.
“I swear on my honor and my life.” Dallas pounds one of his big fists against his chest. “We’re here to help. We won’t let anyone hurt your friend ever again.”
Emma studies his face for several long moments and then her shoulders slump in relief while her eyes fill with tears that she angrily wipes away. “Please, help him. I couldn’t…” She trails off and I sense guilt and frustration from her now.
Mara wraps her arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Now, now. None of that. He couldn’t have escaped without your aid. You did plenty for him.”
“I wish I could have done more. He’s been enslaved for most of his life. He…”
The emotions rolling off her are already overwhelming me, and I need to pull back on my powers to shield myself. Being too receptive to what others are feeling can seriously fuck with me if I’m not careful.
“Let’s see him,” Dallas says, softening his voice. “We’ll take good care of him, I promise.”
Mara keeps Emma at her side and they lead us to a back room in the building. The door’s closed.
Emma knocks haltingly. “Shae? It’s me. I have some people with me who can help. Can we come in?”
For a long moment, there’s no response, but then I hear a hoarse voice say, “Fine.”
We all file into the small room where a young man lies propped up in the bed.
Despite his big size, Dallas works hard to make himself less intimidating when we meet a rescue. He squats down a good distance away from the bed and uses his softest voice. “Hello, Shae. My name is Dallas and I’m here to help you, along with my team.” He slowly gestures a big hand at us. “We’re MEOW Squad and we help folks just like you every day.”
We all groan in unison.
“Come on, man,” Cal whines. “We’ve talked about this.” He grimaces. “So not cool.”
Dallas crosses his enormous arms and frowns.
Ruby shakes her head, her shoulder-length red curls bouncing. “Captain, seriously, that name isn’t helping our reputation one iota.”
“I must concur with Ruby,” Harper offers gently. “It undermines our aura of… professionalism.”
“Did we even have an aura of professionalism to begin with?” Cal asks with a shit-eating grin.
“We are the Missing and Endangered Otherkind Welfare Squad,” Dallas retorts softly. “The acronym fits. Besides, it’s fun and welcoming.”
“Just admit it, man, you have a slightly creepy love for the kitties. We’ve all seen your room, okay? Do you really need to advertise your feline fetish to the whole world?” Cal asks.
Dallas flushes bright red.
Cal’s right. Our captain has a weird obsession with cats. I’m sure the compound would be overrun with them if Ruby didn’t have an allergy. Dallas has to get his fix by volunteering at a local pet shelter on a regular basis. He thinks he’s super sneaky about it, but we all know and find it adorable.
“Who the fuck are these weirdos?” the young man in the bed asks, his question directed at Emma.
“They’re here to… help?” She trails off like it’s more of a question than a certainty, and the doubtful look on her face now isn’t helping matters.
She keeps talking to him, trying to offer reassurance, but her words become background static to me.
Because when I get my first look at the man we’ve come to help, it’s like a Looney Tunes hammer smacks me right in the face while an anvil drops on top of my head. I’m left feeling dizzy and seeing stars.
And maybe even tweeting birds.
The guy before me possesses an unearthly beauty that takes my breath away. Long, dark blue hair streaked with iridescent silver cascades over his shoulders in mesmerizing waves. His eyes are equally stunning, a brighter shade of blue that reminds me of the sky on a sunny day.
For a long moment, I’m dumbfounded. Unable to speak, let alone move.
Then I manage to get past his beauty and notice several other things.
Like the fact that someone clearly has hurt him.
His right ankle is injured and propped up on a pillow, an ice pack draped over it. As my gaze moves up his far too thin body, I notice a bruise on his cheek and a split bottom lip.
I start to growl in the back of my throat and my tail bristles.
Then I register it .
The iron fucking collar around his neck.
Someone put a magic containment collar on this beautiful man in order to control him. Everything in me revolts at the idea.
We’d been warned about devices like this, but most of the ones I’ve seen have been wrist or ankle cuffs. The collar is so much worse.
An unexpected warmth in my pocket has me pulling out the gold coin I found. “Wha—” I start to say as it shimmers in my hand.
The writing on the coin from earlier disappears to be replaced with, Help him.
I jolt because it’s right. Here I am, failing to do my job as a member of this team.
Opening my magical senses, I read a complex mix of emotions coming from Shae. Pain, sorrow, anger, exhaustion—and fear. It’s so powerful that it makes me gasp.
But beyond the snarl of tangled feelings coming off him, I sense something else.
For the first time since I entered the room, I instinctively sniff the air, edging closer to the bed as if in a trance.
The scent of the sea, sunshine, and something sweet tickles my nose. I inhale deeply and take it all inside me, savoring how the tantalizing smell curls up and makes itself at home in the very core of my being.
I’ll admit, I’m sometimes a little slow to catch on to the obvious. I know this about myself. But I never thought it would happen with something as earth-shatteringly important as this!
My ears perk up and my tail starts swishing like mad.
I throw back my head and howl with joy.
“Time and place, bro,” Cal says, giving me a poke in the ribs that I ignore.
Ruby facepalms. “I’d say we’ve officially lost the professionalism battle.”
“What the hell is happening right now?” Dallas demands, loud enough to be heard over my howl.
Harper’s eyes twinkle with merriment and he gives me a knowing wink. “Oh, my. Things are going to get very interesting now.”
While everyone’s still staring at me like I’ve lost my mind, I let my howl die away and kneel beside the bed, my tail going a million miles an hour just like my heart. I’m the empath on our team—think Deanna Troi from Star Trek: The Next Generation , and my own personal hero—but I can do more than just understand and feel the emotions of others. I also have special pheromones—and no, they don’t always have to be sexual—that can soothe those in distress. It’s what I like to call my Super Charged Surfer Scent, and it brings all the chill and peaceful vibes to others. Right now, I’m pumping the SCSS at maximum output to assist our latest rescue in calming down. I want to help him more than I’ve ever wanted to help anyone before.
“Get away from me, Wolf Boy!” he says.
“I’ve found you at last, my fated mate!” I announce as I get to work on getting my scent all over him—from a respectful distance, of course.
That weird coin I found was right.
It is my lucky day!