Chapter 25
Sloane
“Sloane Winters. My God. How long has it been?” James shook his head while extending his hand.
“Too long. You look amazing. Thank you for taking the time to see me.” I’d made the trip to Portland for one reason only. “How are your efforts on climate control? Are you still doing whatever it takes to save the planet?”
“My God, you remembered. Terrible. No one seems to care any longer.” He moved toward the plastic water bottle someone had mistakenly placed in the trash instead of the recycling container, making the basket as if an NBA star.
“I forget nothing.”
“I can see that.”
That one reason? To convince an old friend to use the data I’d collected to pen a scathing article on the ugliness behind the world of sports.
At least when it came to dealing with shifters.
I’d stand behind him all the way. Sadly, I certainly couldn’t ask Matt if I could write and run the story through the Tribune.
He’d laugh me all the way to the unemployment line.
Not that he’d need to do that. I already had plans in the works.
“Come into my cramped office.”
As he ushered me in, so many of his things were familiar.
I took a few seconds to study both the diplomas and his art depicting various articles that had won him critical acclaim over the years.
While his office was cramped, that was due mostly to his love of books.
There were four bookcases crammed full of them.
I went over what I planned on telling him once again.
Beck and I had worked on my nefarious plan to expose a number of people for a few days. Long enough for me to gather enough information for an article. Even if there were a few details still missing. Now I had to sell it to an old friend for a source I hoped would at least understand the cause.
I’d also headed back to see the doctor, who’d been shocked to see there wasn’t a bruise or a scratch on my body. Even the gash had healed. All because… I could barely comprehend the concept of being a mate. How did all that work in the first place?
“You’re a sports reporter,” I said quietly.
Hearing his chuckle, I turned back toward him and to the seat he was pointing to. He took the one beside instead of behind his desk. He’d never been one for formalities. “You say that as if I made a bad decision.”
“Not at all. Obviously, that’s where my bread and butter is. However, I always thought you’d be writing about current events. But you always said you’d end up somewhere in the Northwest.”
“I don’t regret a minute of moving here.
This entire area is amazing. I head to Seattle from time to time, even Canada when I get the chance.
” He sat down with a sigh. “I wear many hats here at the Herald, penning whatever article my editor requires. We’re running short staffed right now and have been for months.
Plus, my editor is retiring at the end of next month so we’re all pitching in. ”
“Are you vying for his job?”
He groaned. “Not a chance in hell. I do not need the extra work. Not with a baby on the way.”
“What? Oh, James. I didn’t even know you were married.”
“Yeah, well, we fell in love quickly. We met on a dating site and after one date, we just knew. Or I should say she knew I was her mate.”
I almost moved on from his comment until his words struck me hard. “Wait a minute. Mate?”
There was that impish grin again. “Yep. I certainly don’t spread the knowledge around to people I don’t know, but given what you said on the phone, I had a feeling you wouldn’t be horrified.”
“She’s a shifter.” Why I needed to say that I wasn’t certain. Except that I was still trying to piece together both what had occurred by the river and the increasing need I felt for Beck.
“She is.”
“And she’s pregnant.”
“Yes, she is.”
“And…”
James lifted a single eyebrow. “You can ask me anything. Is she having a human baby or a pup, right? That is what you were going to ask.”
“I don’t mean to sound like one of those… shifter bigots. You know I don’t.” I thought about what Beck had told me about his soon to be sister-in-law who was also pregnant. Why did I have such a huge knot in my stomach?
“It’s a logical question, Sloane, and trust me, the first one on both our minds when we learned Marcie was pregnant. According to her ultrasounds, and she’d had several, our babies appear very human.”
“Babies, as in plural?” Now the lump was the size of a watermelon. Did every human/shifter combination mean having twins? I even glanced quickly toward my stomach. Oh, hell, no.
“As in two. We’re super excited, but as you can see, I don’t have any extra time on my hands to wrangle the writers or the rest of the staff. I’m blessed I can work from home.”
I could honestly admit if only to myself, I’d wondered about having children, not that I believed I was mother material. At least not yet. However, the thought of carrying pups or cubs in my belly was a little daunting. “What dating site, Shifters in Love?”
His entire face lit up. “Well, you’re close. The Shifter Connection.”
“There is such a thing?”
“You bet. My editor told me about the site a couple years ago and I joined the roster to see what it was all about so I could write a story. I learned more than I bargained for.”
“Wow. Now I’m really sorry I haven’t had much of a chance to read your work. Sounds fascinating.”
His grin was the same as a few years before. “From what you’ve told me, you’ve got your hands full.”
“A little bit.”
“With your mate.”
Why did it feel as if the color had drained from my face? “Yes, and I have absolutely no freaking idea what that means other than what I’ve read.”
He leaned forward in his seat, folding his hands and peering up at me. During the height of our friendship, there hadn’t been anything deemed inappropriate or too difficult to discuss. Yet this felt like a subject that was very off limits. Which didn’t make any sense.
“Whatever you’ve read, toss most of it out the window.
Mating is really nothing more than two people falling deeply in love.
The main difference is that once you’ve mated, nothing can tear you apart.
Not other humans and their bigotry. Not circumstances.
Not money or fame. Not even arguments. And trust me, Marcie and I fight like cats and dogs. ”
“Beck and I do as well.” I’d thought about him during the three-hour drive.
“That’s how we knew we were meant for each other.” He glanced at the door before leaning a little closer. “That and hot sex.”
Now I burst into laughter so loud the entire office could likely hear. “We have that too.”
“Just know shifters are extremely possessive and protective. I’ve witnessed Marcie almost shift because of hecklers from an article I’d written on shifters in the world of sports right after we realized we were mates.”
“The world isn’t kind to them.”
“Not always and you bet it pisses me off. However, we’re only talking about a small select group of haters, which was why your call and the information you sent intrigued the hell out of me.
I knew there were people working in the background trying to make the lives of shifters difficult.
All anyone needs to do is to glance at social media, or if they’re so inclined, pay attention to the various bills going through any legislative session.
Fortunately, most in Congress have failed, actually leading to some very decent laws put into place for shifters’ rights. ”
“Yes, but as I continue saying, perceptions are everything, including instilling and locking in fears for humans. I see that at every hockey game. I do have a question. Has Marcie ever… healed you? As in from an injury?”
“A benefit and yes. At least with superficial wounds, but don’t call them gods. Shifters don’t live forever and their magic only goes so far.”
Magic. There was a word.
Maybe Beck did have a little magic in him.
James rested his forearms on his thighs.
“You really want to be a part of article that when the dust settles, you could lose your cushy job in Chicago along with potentially your reputation? Sports reporting, no matter how far the world of inclusion might have improved, is still an old boys’ network.
I’m just making sure you know what you’re up against.”
“Are you suggesting the article shouldn’t be written?
Do you think I’m bringing this to you to hide behind your coat tails?
Not a chance in hell. I know what to expect and what I want is to prevent Beck and his brother from losing their jobs as well as their reputations.
I will survive because I’m scrappy that way.
But Beck is a young soul. You know what I mean.
He’s eager and willing to do anything, happy go lucky most of the time and believes the best in people. I know better. I’m an old soul.”
“Is that anything like an old hippie because if it is, you’ve aged well or paid a lot of money for plastic surgery.”
He could make me laugh more than anyone. “I’m being serious.”
“You’re being protective because he’s your mate.”
The serious look on his face brought a drop of lead into my stomach. “Does that mean you’re not going to write the article? Your editor said no?”
“My editor asked me to double check the information you sent. And he offered a connection to a buddy of his who just happens to be a bookie.”
“What?” Now I was excited. That had been one missing piece, full confirmation on betting on their own teams.
“Well, you did say you thought but hadn’t been able to find hard evidence that the owners of the Las Vegas Cruisers were betting on their own NHL team. Right?”
“Yes. So you found something?” I was about ready to jump from my seat.
“Not only the owner of the Cruisers but two other prominent teams as well. Plus, you were right about the owners of your media company as well. And my guess is you can figure out the one thing the sports teams have in common.”
The smirk on my face felt damn good. “No shifters on their roster.”