Chapter 8 #4
But it had me thinking about the MFM. The last time they’d staged protests in Richmond hadn’t gone as badly as the time before that.
Nobody had died the last time, which had been about a year ago, although there had been quite a few injuries and arrests, some vandalism, and thefts from cars and businesses.
The time before there had been several fatalities, and it had led to Hart working at Beyond the Veil because he’d been attacked by some of his own colleagues in the police department.
The question was how they were going to go this year.
I knew Ward was worried that they were going to be much worse this year because of the current bills being promoted in the Senate by Simon Adams, who had been galvanized by his wife’s death to promote anti-discrimination laws designed to protect Arcanids.
The debate was getting heated on Capitol Hill, and there were lawn signs posted all around the neighborhoods in Richmond for or against the bill, telling people to contact their senators and representatives.
I’d even seen a few ads online attached to videos and streaming shows telling people to support one side or the other.
It was constant.
I’d never paid particular attention to most of the people around me on a day-to-day basis.
Not the people I knew—I paid attention to them, of course.
But the people I passed on the sidewalk or in the grocery store aisles or alongside whom I stood in line for coffee when Ward sent me to pick up fancy coffee for the office.
The people in the restaurants where Raj took me for dinner, both those who waited on us and our fellow diners.
Would they have been as polite if they’d known that I was a witch and an Arc-human or that Raj was a shifter?
I didn’t like the fact that now I wondered that.
That the endless commercials and signs asking Do you want your children taught by a monster?
or telling me that Everyone is our neighbor, fur and fangs and all!
I didn’t want to have to wonder if someone would spit in my food if they knew what I was. If they would want to do worse.
I hated thinking about it, especially because it made me realize that it probably wasn’t just the hit-and-runs that were making Raj worried about my safety—since that didn’t make sense.
I wasn’t an Arcanid and I never walked home late at night.
But when I considered things in the light of the current divisions over Arc and Arcanid rights and the fact that nearly anyone I interacted with might want me dead…
Well, his worry seemed a good deal less paranoid and more realistic.
We weren’t at the point where open violence in the streets against Arcanids was tolerated, but glares and hostility and mothers herding their children to the other side of the street were fairly typical, at least from what I’d observed going places with Sam or seeing orcs or vampires just going about their business.
I knew it bothered Sam, and he’d admitted to me once that sometimes he just desperately wanted someone to smile at him instead of looking away or scowling.
So I tried to at least do that. Offer a smile, even though I wasn’t generally someone who smiled much.
Thinking about it now, it felt silly. A foolish gesture in the face of hatred and bigotry.
But I didn’t know what else to do. What else I could do.
I sighed, even though it was just me in what was apparently my new car.
Raj would probably love the fact that I now had a car. A car I’d have to now swap the title of, get insurance for, and register to the city of Richmond, which meant I’d have to pay taxes on it. To say nothing about paying for gas and maintenance.
My next sigh was a little annoyed. Yes, my sister had been extremely generous, and, yes, it would be really convenient to have a car for a lot of reasons, but I was running close to my monthly budget as it was, although the occasional case with the FBI did help to bolster my income.
And now I’d have to cover more expenses, even if I hadn’t had to pay to buy the car itself.
I knew if I’d pointed any of that out to Vi, she’d have offered to pay for them herself or give me the money to do it, but I didn’t want to do that to her.
First of all, I was an adult, and financial responsibility was part of being an adult.
Second, I got the sense that Vi didn’t actually have a solid understanding of financial responsibility—not surprising, since she was almost twenty and had been raised by an extremely wealthy family.
And that probably meant that she wasn’t making particularly good economic decisions and might need whatever money she’d give me.
I wondered briefly whether or not she had some sort of financial trust or investments that would actually control what was now her wealth, but it really wasn’t any of my business.
I’d accepted the car, and I would figure out how to pay for it.
Maybe by getting some sort of gig job or remote part-time work that I could do on the weekends when I wasn’t needed by Beyond the Veil, although that would take away from the few hours I already had to spend with Raj.
At least I could drive places to meet him now.
And he’d probably try to insist that I drive to work, which was just ridiculous if I only had to go into the office.
Gigs, sure. It would, in fact, be easier if I could drive myself or even myself and Ward than if we had to coordinate with Mason to borrow his truck.
At least the car, for all its small size, had a back seat that would fold down so I could fit Ward’s wheelchair. Hopefully.
I’d text Raj when I got home, even though I knew he was probably working late—again.