Even the best of horses tends to get a bit lazy once in a while. They don't want to listen, they don't want to move out, and they just turn off.
At that point, it's handy to know what your horse's "on" switch is. Whether it's a certain tone of voice, taking two trips around the arena at a dead run, or even a specific phrase, like "lets go!"
Monkey's "on" switch is quite simple. All I have to do is pick up the trailing end of my rein in my right hand.
The little fart didn't do bad today, but I wanted to work on pivots while everyone else did the class time thing, and he just wasn't wanting to do it. So I shortened my reins up, picked up the "on" switch, laid the reins over his neck and gave him leg pressure, and I'll be damned if he didn't spin around like a pro. To the right that is. He's still got issues to the left. But we side passed and pivoted and backed halfway down the arena, once he realized that yes, he really did have to do it. But that is his on switch, the signal that he recognizes that turns on the "yes mommy" portion of his brain instead of the Bart Simpson portion. He has fun when he turns on, too, he just has to try the brat side first.
It's not like I beat the horse, I can sit relaxed on his back and swing the end of that same rein around until it whoops and he doesn't twitch. That's just the signal that he understands that yes, he really does have to do what I'm asking for.
In other news, the goober was convinced that a piece of paper was going to eat him today. We were trotting on the rail and he spotted it, dropped his head to look at it, decided it was dangerous, and jumped it. Surprised me a bit, but I was ready for him the next time.
At the same time, while I was trying to get him to extend his trot a bit rather than get choppier, he decided to lope instead. A nice, rocking chair gait, only slightly faster than the horses who were actually doing the long trot. If I could get him to do that when I ask for the lope, I'll be the most comfortable rider in the class. Of course, when I tried for it later, he wouldn't give it to me.
Silly horse. We'll keep working on it.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Soon as I can make it back home....
I'm kidnapping Eldest Nephew. Then I'm hitting the Loaf and buying some scratch cards.
Farmmom won the halftime and third quarter pots last night. Too bad both teams had to be peckers and score after that, or she'd have won everything but the first quarter, and come up with an even larger chunk of change.
Otherwise, I was amused at the fact that they had to clear the field to finish the game with one second on the clock. What can I say it made me giggle that the officials had to poke and prod everyone off the field. And that the Patriots' coach had a quiet hissy fit and left for the locker room.
Sadly enough the thing that amused me the most was the way that Doug Williams clutched the Vince Lombardi trophy to himself, cuddling it against his cheek like a favorite teddy bear.
Is it just me, or did he give anyone else the impression that if he'd let go with one hand his thumb would have flown to his mouth?
What can I say, I'm easily amused.....
Farmmom won the halftime and third quarter pots last night. Too bad both teams had to be peckers and score after that, or she'd have won everything but the first quarter, and come up with an even larger chunk of change.
Otherwise, I was amused at the fact that they had to clear the field to finish the game with one second on the clock. What can I say it made me giggle that the officials had to poke and prod everyone off the field. And that the Patriots' coach had a quiet hissy fit and left for the locker room.
Sadly enough the thing that amused me the most was the way that Doug Williams clutched the Vince Lombardi trophy to himself, cuddling it against his cheek like a favorite teddy bear.
Is it just me, or did he give anyone else the impression that if he'd let go with one hand his thumb would have flown to his mouth?
What can I say, I'm easily amused.....
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Super Bowl Sunday
Ok, let's get this straight. I'm not a big football fan. I don't even watch the Broncos. I'm fully capable of tuning out a game if someone else is watching it. Football is just not my thing.
The Super Bowl, on the other hand, I do watch. For the commercials. Yes, I'm one of those.
This year, I actually have a wager on the game. My brother's work had a pool going, five dollars a square, but due to the heavy workload, they hadn't been able to fill it.
So, Mamaw bought her a square, and me a square, and the Farmparents each a square. I picked mine and Mamaw's, Eldest Nephew picked Farmmom and Farmdad's. If one of the Farmparents wins, I'm buying some scratch cards and kidnapping Eldest Nephew.
I don't even know what my bet is, since they decided to randomize the pool, and have everyone buy their squares before they assigned numbers. Bro will be pulling numbers out of the hat this morning, and assigning numbers. The way I understand it, the first and third quarter scores pay an eighth of the total pot, halftime score pays a quarter, and final score pays half the pot.
So, once I figure out what my wager actually is, I may have to pay attention to the game, as well as the commercials.
Meanwhile, the Black Cat didn't go to Oklahoma with Mamaw. There was a note on the table when I woke up chronicling his ginormous fit, and the phone call to Bill in Oklahoma in which the decision was made not to take the cat to Okieland.
The cat is currently curled up in a corner, perfectly happy to have been left at home, for once.
The Super Bowl, on the other hand, I do watch. For the commercials. Yes, I'm one of those.
This year, I actually have a wager on the game. My brother's work had a pool going, five dollars a square, but due to the heavy workload, they hadn't been able to fill it.
So, Mamaw bought her a square, and me a square, and the Farmparents each a square. I picked mine and Mamaw's, Eldest Nephew picked Farmmom and Farmdad's. If one of the Farmparents wins, I'm buying some scratch cards and kidnapping Eldest Nephew.
I don't even know what my bet is, since they decided to randomize the pool, and have everyone buy their squares before they assigned numbers. Bro will be pulling numbers out of the hat this morning, and assigning numbers. The way I understand it, the first and third quarter scores pay an eighth of the total pot, halftime score pays a quarter, and final score pays half the pot.
So, once I figure out what my wager actually is, I may have to pay attention to the game, as well as the commercials.
Meanwhile, the Black Cat didn't go to Oklahoma with Mamaw. There was a note on the table when I woke up chronicling his ginormous fit, and the phone call to Bill in Oklahoma in which the decision was made not to take the cat to Okieland.
The cat is currently curled up in a corner, perfectly happy to have been left at home, for once.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Just Call Me Miz Fixit
Mamaw has kept me pretty busy this weekend, but I've still had time to relax some.
First it was the screen on the window. The nails holding it (it used to have hangars but the frame has been re-built so many times it's barely recognizable) had come loose and needed replacing or adjustment. So I got that done, as soon as it warmed up enough to be outside for any length of time.
Then it was running a couple of errands. And reminding her how to print recipes off of Food Network's website in the format she likes.
I also put together the presentation for Eval Monday, and worked a bit on the Creative Writing piece due Tuesday. I'll do the Repro paper tomorrow night, it won't take me two hours to put together what I need for that one.
Then, when the Farmparents came over for dinner, we learned that Farmmom had made an unprovoked attack on a poor, defenseless chair. She hauled off and kicked the thing out of the blue, for no reason at all. In all probability she managed to give herself a broken toe, maybe two. So I taped them up for the night too.
I figure she'll have the tape pulled off by seven tomorrow morning. It's bound to be uncomfortable, I taped all of her small toes together because the only one that *wasn't* swollen was the pinky toe. My main goal was to keep them from flexing side to side while she was in bed tonight. We'll see how she feels in the morning.
Also, in coming attractions, Mamaw will be leaving for Oklahoma in the morning, and this time, she's taking Bill's cat. This cat has never traveled more than a couple of blocks, and she's heading out on an eleven hour drive with him. To arrive in a place that contains smells that he's never smelled before.
This is the same cat that gets pissed off and stressed out every time they leave and starts puking all over the house.
I'll be laughing my silly white butt off every time she calls.
I half expect her to wake me up in the morning to get him in the cat carrier.
First it was the screen on the window. The nails holding it (it used to have hangars but the frame has been re-built so many times it's barely recognizable) had come loose and needed replacing or adjustment. So I got that done, as soon as it warmed up enough to be outside for any length of time.
Then it was running a couple of errands. And reminding her how to print recipes off of Food Network's website in the format she likes.
I also put together the presentation for Eval Monday, and worked a bit on the Creative Writing piece due Tuesday. I'll do the Repro paper tomorrow night, it won't take me two hours to put together what I need for that one.
Then, when the Farmparents came over for dinner, we learned that Farmmom had made an unprovoked attack on a poor, defenseless chair. She hauled off and kicked the thing out of the blue, for no reason at all. In all probability she managed to give herself a broken toe, maybe two. So I taped them up for the night too.
I figure she'll have the tape pulled off by seven tomorrow morning. It's bound to be uncomfortable, I taped all of her small toes together because the only one that *wasn't* swollen was the pinky toe. My main goal was to keep them from flexing side to side while she was in bed tonight. We'll see how she feels in the morning.
Also, in coming attractions, Mamaw will be leaving for Oklahoma in the morning, and this time, she's taking Bill's cat. This cat has never traveled more than a couple of blocks, and she's heading out on an eleven hour drive with him. To arrive in a place that contains smells that he's never smelled before.
This is the same cat that gets pissed off and stressed out every time they leave and starts puking all over the house.
I'll be laughing my silly white butt off every time she calls.
I half expect her to wake me up in the morning to get him in the cat carrier.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Weekend at the Old Homestead
I'll be heading to the Old Homestead tomorrow afternoon, taking the weekend off. (Nominally off, I still have homework to do. I'll spend a good chunk of my weekend on the laptop revising the paper I posted, since today Traci ruled out internal monologue.)
I've got someone taking care of Monkey, and I've got someone covering my feed crew. I just have to make it through feed crew tomorrow morning and class, without killing anyone, and then I can breathe easy for a couple of days.
In other news, we played tag in class today, and Monkey was getting off on herding the other horses into corners when I was it. He wasn't really sure why we weren't pushing the other horses around when I wasn't it, but he really enjoyed working the others on the fence when I was.
He did give me some really nice turns, nicer than he usually does in the arena, and once he figured out what we were doing he pushed right up on the horses I pointed him at to trap them on the fence. I did wind up being it a few times because he broke out of the trot... once was my fault, I was trying to push for a longer trot and he was all "well if you want to go faster, lets just jump ahead." The other times were pretty much he didn't like the other horse crawling up his butt.
In other news, Etta is being ridden. She's really stiff to the right and E is getting a little frustrated, but she hasn't offered to buck once, even when the other horses are going nuts. I'm proud of her for that fact alone, and we'll see if she figures out not to pull to the outside over time. She should make a nice settled horse, and if nothing else she can be my project next semester.
More other news, one of the girls is going home, due to an injury from her own damned stupidity, so there's a spare horse. Since Sparky has the world's most stubborn pony right now, Marilyn has given him the choice of which horse he wants. He's going to consider it and let me know. He wanted me to make the decision for him, but it's his choice. We'll see.
I've got someone taking care of Monkey, and I've got someone covering my feed crew. I just have to make it through feed crew tomorrow morning and class, without killing anyone, and then I can breathe easy for a couple of days.
In other news, we played tag in class today, and Monkey was getting off on herding the other horses into corners when I was it. He wasn't really sure why we weren't pushing the other horses around when I wasn't it, but he really enjoyed working the others on the fence when I was.
He did give me some really nice turns, nicer than he usually does in the arena, and once he figured out what we were doing he pushed right up on the horses I pointed him at to trap them on the fence. I did wind up being it a few times because he broke out of the trot... once was my fault, I was trying to push for a longer trot and he was all "well if you want to go faster, lets just jump ahead." The other times were pretty much he didn't like the other horse crawling up his butt.
In other news, Etta is being ridden. She's really stiff to the right and E is getting a little frustrated, but she hasn't offered to buck once, even when the other horses are going nuts. I'm proud of her for that fact alone, and we'll see if she figures out not to pull to the outside over time. She should make a nice settled horse, and if nothing else she can be my project next semester.
More other news, one of the girls is going home, due to an injury from her own damned stupidity, so there's a spare horse. Since Sparky has the world's most stubborn pony right now, Marilyn has given him the choice of which horse he wants. He's going to consider it and let me know. He wanted me to make the decision for him, but it's his choice. We'll see.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Death is Coming...
Started my first feed crew of the semester tonight. To start with we've got fewer people than we did last semester, all of the sophomores being off doing their internships, which means more work for the rest of us.
Then I walked into the block barn (my assigned area for today) only to find that someone (someone meaning two of the HTM program kids) had left us a present. Two manure carts brimming with shit and shavings, left in the aisle, plus a pile of crap that no one had bothered to pick up, as per the rules of the barn. The rules are, if it comes out of your horse, you clean it up. Seriously, how freaking hard is it to roll the damn cart out to the pit and dump it, then roll it back. It's not like you have to carry the horseshit forkful by forkful out the doors and to the pile. They were even the two-wheel carts and not the wheel barrows!
On top of that, it appears that no one on the last feed crew was capable of remembering the proper use of a broom in the south end of the block barn for at least the last three days. I swept up a half a cart full of shavings that were coating the aisle.
Let me put it this way... we got all of the hay fed in about fifteen minutes. After that, I grabbed a broom and started sweeping on the south end. I was the last one done, and everyone else completed the watering, inside and out, sweeping the other end of the barn, the other barn, and the hitch rails outside before I got one end of the block barn swept.
I'm ready to stab people. I don't even want to shoot them because while the sensation of the little explosion is a satisfying one at this moment I want the visceral pleasure of feeling the knife slide in, and the sucking feeling as it is twisted before I pull it out.*
Meanwhile, I've got myself a mixed drink, I have no idea what I'm going to do for dinner but I need to eat something, and I'm exhausted with a sore back from shoving thirty pounds of filth around with a crappy broom. (Do you have any idea how much loose sawdust it takes to make thirty pounds?!?)
I'm going to bed early tonight, and laying on my back for a half an hour with the electric blanket turned up.
*Disclaimer for paranoid, uptight people with no sense of proportion: No, I'm not going to really stab someone. Hay bales, maybe. But I'm not going to stab a real person. I'm just pissed off and it's an extremely satisfactory mental image. No cops need to be called. Really.
Then I walked into the block barn (my assigned area for today) only to find that someone (someone meaning two of the HTM program kids) had left us a present. Two manure carts brimming with shit and shavings, left in the aisle, plus a pile of crap that no one had bothered to pick up, as per the rules of the barn. The rules are, if it comes out of your horse, you clean it up. Seriously, how freaking hard is it to roll the damn cart out to the pit and dump it, then roll it back. It's not like you have to carry the horseshit forkful by forkful out the doors and to the pile. They were even the two-wheel carts and not the wheel barrows!
On top of that, it appears that no one on the last feed crew was capable of remembering the proper use of a broom in the south end of the block barn for at least the last three days. I swept up a half a cart full of shavings that were coating the aisle.
Let me put it this way... we got all of the hay fed in about fifteen minutes. After that, I grabbed a broom and started sweeping on the south end. I was the last one done, and everyone else completed the watering, inside and out, sweeping the other end of the barn, the other barn, and the hitch rails outside before I got one end of the block barn swept.
I'm ready to stab people. I don't even want to shoot them because while the sensation of the little explosion is a satisfying one at this moment I want the visceral pleasure of feeling the knife slide in, and the sucking feeling as it is twisted before I pull it out.*
Meanwhile, I've got myself a mixed drink, I have no idea what I'm going to do for dinner but I need to eat something, and I'm exhausted with a sore back from shoving thirty pounds of filth around with a crappy broom. (Do you have any idea how much loose sawdust it takes to make thirty pounds?!?)
I'm going to bed early tonight, and laying on my back for a half an hour with the electric blanket turned up.
*Disclaimer for paranoid, uptight people with no sense of proportion: No, I'm not going to really stab someone. Hay bales, maybe. But I'm not going to stab a real person. I'm just pissed off and it's an extremely satisfactory mental image. No cops need to be called. Really.
Good things....
Do come to those who wait, as AD says. In honor of the bribery that he attempted on me (the failure of which wasn't his fault, really) I give you, Jane, Chapter Two:
Jane walked into the restaurant a little late. She’d called her father before she left for the meeting, to get a refresher course on dealing with werewolves. Especially alpha werewolves.
“Babygirl, I don’t know if you’re crazy or stupid. How did you get wound up with Joseph?” Her father’s voice had been exasperated, and had held that daddy tone as well. Like she’d accepted a date from the man instead of a simple meeting on neutral territory to talk. About an unknown subject. When the pack leader had sounded like he was ready to draw blood. Okay, it wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done.
“Daddy, he called me and said he needed my help with something. The rest of the supes know what I’m capable of, you made sure of that when you had me help you track down that rabid dog four years ago. The one that had quit attacking cattle and started in on people, remember? So I assume it’s something that I can help him with.” Jane sighed. Her father walked a very thin line between letting her live her own life and being protective enough to satisfy his own fatherly urges.
“I know, Babygirl, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea of you meeting with a werewolf without me there. Can you call him back and postpone until I can make it?”
“Sure!” Jane said sarcastically, “But you’d better bring the fifty cal and some silver if I do. He was pretty growly when he called. You know better than that, Daddy. He’s already stressed to the max to be growling on the phone with me.” Joseph was one of the rare alphas who prided himself on being able to retain his humanity in either shape, and he made sure his wolves were entirely human in public. It was one of the reasons Jane hadn’t refused the meeting outright. In Joseph’s pack, they weren’t discovered because they didn’t make mistakes, unlike others she’d heard about, where clever cover-ups kept their existence secret.
“I know, I know.” Her father sighed. “Well, you know the basics, which should get you through a public meeting. Joseph will accept quite a bit from you that he wouldn’t from me, because you haven’t been around them that much.”
“Plus he respects you a lot so that will give me some extra protection, I know.” Jane’s father was Elliot Marx, retired cop and well-trained empath. He wrote murder mysteries now, with a supernatural twist of course. The supe community allowed him to put the “weird” stuff in because he wrote in as much misinformation as true. The books were huge hits, in both the mundane and the supe worlds.
“Well, the only advice I can give you beyond what you already know is to take a shower first. You’ve just come from the barn and you smell like horse, which is a prey animal. If he’s stressed out, it might be enough to push him further than I’m comfortable with. Even if he’s entirely in control, it would be polite to wash off the manure smell before dining with someone with a sensitive nose.”
“I don’t have time, Daddy, but I’ll wash as much of it as I can off with a washcloth.” Jane cursed the swamp in Speck’s stall that had made her run later than she’d planned.
“Well, that’s better than nothing. Be careful, Babygirl. And try not to push his buttons today.”
“I am not stupid enough to push buttons on a stressed out werewolf, Daddy. Not anymore, anyway.” Jane flushed red. Several years ago her father had been required to take her to a conclave, a meeting of the various types of extraordinary people in the area. He forgot that the wolves would be there, and hadn’t given her etiquette lessons before hand. As a result she’d unwittingly insulted several wolves and had to be rescued by the pack leader’s second.
“Good luck, Babygirl.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
So, Jane was a little late, having scrubbed down at the sink in her apartment and run water through her hair. She looked around the restaurant, searching for Joseph. This wasn’t a place she regularly frequented, although she’d eaten here before. It was truly neutral territory, which was the reason she’d chosen it. It certainly hadn’t been for the décor, which was a cross between southwestern and a fifties diner. Not the best combination she’d ever seen.
The food was mediocre, but there was no helping that. All the best restaurants in the area were frequented by pack members. Werewolves had high metabolisms, and were fairly picky about their food. At least in their two legged forms.
Jane finally spotted Joseph, in a booth near the back. He’d taken the side facing the entrance, and her back prickled as she thought about sitting with her back to the door. One of the benefits, if you could call it that, of having an ex-cop for a father was that she’d been steeped in what he called “situational awareness” since she was knee high to a grasshopper. Her twenty first birthday present had been the fee for her concealed weapons permit.
Jane considered for a moment asking Joseph to switch sides, or simply sitting beside him. Unfortunately, asking him to move probably wouldn’t get her anywhere, and sitting beside him- while it might facilitate a private conversation- would put off entirely the wrong impression.
Sighing, Jane crossed the room and sat across from the alpha werewolf.
Joseph’s nostrils flared, and Jane knew he was scenting her nerves, and probably the horses she’d been around in class. He didn’t smile.
“Sorry I’m late, Specks made a swamp out of his stall and I had to strip it. It took me a little longer than I expected.” Politeness was always a good idea, and apologizing for being late didn’t put her back in the dominance category. Their server appeared and took Jane’s drink order, and Joseph waited for her to leave before answering.
“And you stopped by your apartment.” Joseph raised an eyebrow. Jane closed her eyes for a moment and let his voice wash over her. The man did have a nice voice. He could give Vin Deisel a run for his money on that front. Of course, he could give him a run for his money on everything else, too. The pack leader was an extremely handsome man, standing six feet and two hundred and twenty five pounds of pure muscle. His honey brown hair was a little longer than he normally wore it, hanging over his collar in the back and developing a bit of a wave. His eyes were a startling emerald green in his tanned face. Jane had never figured out exactly what kind of ethnic background Joseph had, but whatever it was it blessed him with a perfect tan no matter what time of year it was.
After a moment, Jane brought herself back to business. “Well, I figured it would be impolite to show up reeking of ammonia and manure.” She tucked her hair behind an ear and picked up her menu.
“Believe me, I appreciate it, but I was referring to the smell of gun oil.” Joseph had dropped the eyebrow and now stared at her intently.
Crap, he thinks I brought the gun because of him. Jane raised her eyes and returned his stare.
“You know my father. Do you really think I’d leave the house unarmed in days like these?” Joseph sucked in a shocked and insulted breath, but before he could explode Jane blew out an exasperated sound and snagged a newspaper off the next table. She shoved it under his nose. “The rapes, Joseph. College students. All across the state. One here.” She spoke curtly, punctuating her words by shaking the paper under his nose, frustrated beyond all sense of manners.
Jane watched as understanding registered in Joseph’s eyes, and he reined himself in. She sighed, thinking about the serial rapist that had been hopping his way around the state, hitting college campuses. The rapes weren’t all on campus, but every one of the victims was a college student. The poor girl who’d been attacked from the Lamar Community campus had had to spend a week in the hospital.
“Really, Joseph, it’s not all about you all the time.” Jane couldn’t resist poking the big man a little bit. She smiled at him to make the needling into a joke, hoping that it would relax him a bit. No dice, he just stared at her.
“I apologize for jumping to conclusions. I’m a little,” he paused, “preoccupied, lately, and I haven’t been able to follow the news closely.”
Jane gulped. If he hadn’t been able to follow the news, he must have been busy indeed.
“No harm done. I don’t really expect to run into that guy, but I’m not taking any chances.” Jane leaned back in the booth and looked at the menu again.
“I’m surprised you’re worried at all, with your protections.” Joseph wasn’t referring to her Firestar, the small nine millimeter pistol she carried concealed in the small of her back. Elliot Marx was a highly respected man in the area, and many of the local supes owed him favors from his law enforcement career. Plus, Jane’s dual talents, talking to animals and strong empathy both, made her something of a curiosity to the supes, so she’d met many of them at a young age. Apparently she’d been cute, since she’d gained “aunts” and “uncles” by the score. Her parents said that it was because she hadn’t learned sarcasm until puberty.
“I’m sure anyone familiar with the community here would hesitate, but I don’t think this guy is our kind.”
“Oh?” Joseph was good at getting information out of people, but in this case he didn’t need to use any tactics. Jane wanted the pack leader to be aware of the situation. Sometimes bad men in the world just disappeared, and no one in the mundane world knew why. Or how. Jane was sort of glad of that second part.
“There’s no sign that he’s got anything more than a serious mental problem. I checked out the site of the one here and I didn’t get any flavor of supe in the echoes.” Jane shuddered at the memory. Even days later, the remnants of the emotions at that place had been enough to make her vomit behind a Dumpster. She had deliberately allowed the “echoes” to fade for nearly a week before she went there, and she hadn’t expected them to be so strong. She’d foolishly dropped her shields completely, thinking she’d have to read deeply. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Even the memory was enough to test her control, but she clamped down and kept her emotions in check.
“Ah. The pack will be aware.” Joseph finally looked down at the menu, dismissing the matter from his mind. Jane bristled a bit at his dismissal.
Joseph.” Her voice was hard, insistent.
“Yes?” He glanced up and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The girl, the one here. I went to see her.” Joseph still looked at her blandly.
“I couldn’t get past the lobby. She’s so emotionally damaged that she’s projecting hard enough to bring me to my knees through full shields.” Finally a reaction, Joseph’s eyebrows shot up and his emerald gaze was suddenly piercing again.
“And he’s not…” Joseph waved a hand between them. Jane almost laughed at the pack leader, the highest ranking werewolf in the area, lumping her in a group with himself.
“I don’t think so. But if the other girls are like the one here, he’s a hell of a manipulator. This goes beyond just physical violation; he broke that poor girl’s mind. She’ll never be the same.” A little tingle of apprehension ran up Jane’s spine. She couldn’t imagine going through something like that. Elliot had taught his only daughter a lot about protecting herself, but Jane knew that things didn’t always work the way you planned them.
Joseph’s eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared, and he looked like he wanted to call a hunt right then and there. That wasn’t what Jane had intended, she’d just wanted the pack to be watching for him to show up in their territory again. But, an alpha’s need to protect is strong, and Joseph had a certain sense of responsibility for all of the people, supes or not, in his territory. He routinely donated to local charities, and sometimes showed up at the homes of impoverished families with a deer that he had “just happened” to find on his land, killed by coyotes of course, and discovered before the meat could spoil.
“I will check the place myself and see if I can get a scent.” His voice was low, not quite a growl but close, and the anger radiating off of the alpha was enough to make Jane suck in a breath and check her shields. Joseph’s anger washed across her skin, pinpricks of rage biting at her.
“Um. Ok.” Jane cleared her throat. “I’d appreciate that.”
Joseph finally seemed to notice her discomfort, and visibly pulled himself together. “My apologies, again. Apparently I’m not up to my usual standard of control.”
“I noticed,” Jane commented breathlessly. “I’ll be all right in a second.” A couple deep breaths later and the angry ants marching down her arms had stopped. She nodded to Joseph, who had waited politely until she was calmed to continue. Jane suspected he’d used that time to calm himself, as well.
“I seem to be spending a lot of time apologizing to you today,” he said in a wry tone. “Let’s order, and then I’ll tell you why I asked you to meet me.” Joseph laid his menu down and caught the eye of a server. It was easy for him, with his innate dominance every person in a room kept a weather eye on him, even the normals. It wasn’t fear, but an instinctual response to being in the same space as a personality that dominant. Men like Joseph could sit at the head of a boardroom table, or at a corner table in a bar and still get that same attention.
Once their orders were placed they talked of commonplace things until their food was delivered. Jane sipped at her coffee and answered politely when Joseph inquired after her studies, and asked him in return how his business was going. Joseph owned a hunting ranch. His employees raised pheasants in pens, and then released them into an area of Joseph’s property for the city people who just had to bag a bird to hunt. Joseph, of course, had nothing to do with the day to day operations. Jane had heard that the last time he’d decided to inspect the pens, a quarter of the birds had literally been scared to death.
Finally, their food arrived, and Joseph cleared his throat. “I don’t know how much you actually know about wolves,” He looked at Jane inquiringly. He kept his voice low to keep it from carrying over the hum of conversations at other tables, and Jane did the same.
“Enough now not to go around insulting pack members at conclaves.” Jane grinned. Joseph had been the second that had rescued her all those years ago. He hadn’t been that much older than she was, but he’d had an alpha personality even then. When the old pack leader had died two years ago- in a wreck, of all things- there hadn’t even been a fight to settle who the new leader was. Joseph had simply stepped into the position and taken over. The rest of the pack accepted him because he’d proven himself as the old leader’s second, and because none of the grumblers were alpha enough to gainsay him.
Joseph smiled faintly in return, snorting a little. “Well I would hope so. More to the point, sometimes a person will lose control of their wolf, and do something that they wouldn’t if they were in control.”
Jane nodded. “That’s usually when someone gets turned accidentally, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s usually when we wind up with a new pack member.” Joseph sighed, “We had an incident last week.”
Jane thought for a moment, trying to remember anything that might qualify as a werewolf “incident.”
“Um, the lady in the canyons? That was one of yours? I didn’t think you guys normally ranged that far south. I figured it really was a cougar, like they said in the paper.” Jane knew she was babbling, but it bought her time to piece the story together and see if it fit. There had been a woman found near death in the canyons in the southern part of the county, after an exhaustive search when her trail horse had been found wandering and hysterical near the trailer.
"It was one of mine. She claims she lost control, but she’s one of the most controlled wolves I have.” Joseph rubbed his eyes with one hand, sighing. For the first time, Jane noticed the circles under his eyes, and wondered what in the world could run down the nearly inexhaustible pack leader.
“But,” Jane said, “If it was one of yours then…” She trailed off, thinking with horror of becoming a werewolf. She’d never be able to ride again. Horses went into a panic around the wolves, whether they were in their human shapes or not. Even the bravest, most steadfast of the hoof-kin had a deep rooted instinctual terror of weres. Jane started, realizing that all animals had that automatic fear. They’d never talk to her again. She shuddered. Talking to animals had been an integral part of her life for as long as she could remember. She had even had a horse babysitter. She couldn’t imagine life without being able to talk to her friends.
“The woman died this morning.” Joseph’s words held something of relief in them along with the regret. Well, Jane could understand that, sort of. If the woman had lived, he would have had a major cover up to do, along with a new wolf to keep in check until she gained enough control to follow the rules.
“Well, what do you need my help for then?” Jane’s brows drew together in a frown of confusion.
“I don’t think it was an accident.” Joseph dropped that bomb and paused while the waitress refilled their drinks. It gave Jane time to think. There was only one thing that the man could need that couldn’t be done better by others.
“You want me to talk to the horse.” Jane’s voice was flat, and she met Joseph’s eyes with her own angry gaze. A challenge, but she didn’t care at this point. “You want me to make that poor animal relive an experience that was so terrifying that I read in the newspaper they had to bring out a tranq gun before he would let anyone near him. Even then, the article said that he bit one of the rescue workers, and kicked two more.”
Joseph returned her stare and began to leak a little of the other-worldly power that made him alpha. If she’d been one of his pack, it would have been enough to make her back down and start spouting yes sirs. As it was, it whispered over her skin like a hot wind, raising goosebumps, and pressed on her mind, trying to bend her to his will.
“Oh cut the crap Joseph. I’m not one of your wolves. You asked me for help. If you want it you’ll have to give me a damn good reason to terrify an innocent animal, not cow me under sheer power.” Jane held his eyes, anger flaring in her own. A growl crawled out of his throat, low enough that it wouldn’t be heard at the next table. “I’m serious, Joseph Jones. I will not torture that creature without a very good reason, so either give it to me, or I’m out of here.” She waited only a moment, and began to slide out of the booth when he didn’t answer.
“Wait.” Joseph’s tone still held the wolf’s growl, but there was less of it. Jane hesitated. “The pack is calling for me to discipline Serina.”
Suddenly Jane understood, a little. Pack discipline was strict. It had to be, or the secrecy that protected them from bounty hunters with silver bullets would be a mere dream. The entirety of pack life was politics, knowing who to suck up to and who you could push around. Joseph was a controversial leader because he didn’t allow the more dominant members of his pack to simply beat on the submissive members. He ruled with an iron fist, but he was fair and took care of his own. He even let the pack have a voice in some of the decisions.
If pack discipline was involved then Jane might be better off not knowing. That kind of thing tended to be bloody. You couldn’t imprison a werewolf, not for long. And when they got out, they would be extremely pissed off at whoever had put them in a cage in the first place. No, in the pack you either got the crap knocked out of you, or if the transgression was serious enough, you were simply killed. But she was still hesitant. She told Joseph so.
“Prey animals have strong memories of danger or pain. That’s why a horse that’s been hurt by something will refuse to go anywhere near whatever it was again, even if it’s a lifetime later. If I bring this up to that horse he’s going to be utterly terrified, and I doubt I’ll be able to get anything useful out of him. It might even break his mind entirely.”
“I understand, and I'm sorry but the pack is calling her death. If you can’t help me somehow, I’ll have to kill Serina. I don’t want to do that, not without some kind of proof.” Joseph’s matter of fact tone was spoiled by the worry in it. She could tell that he didn’t want to have to kill the woman.
Jane remembered Serina from conclaves. She hadn’t liked the woman, who felt that as a wolf she was superior to any other creature. She wasn’t shy about letting a person know it, either. But that was no reason to let her be summarily executed if she wasn’t guilty.
“Crap. Ok, I’ll try. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll try. Do you know where the horse is?” Jane cringed inwardly at letting herself be drawn into this whole mess, but wrote the address Joseph recited on a napkin anyway.
“By the way, my dad wanted me to ask you how you’re doing on cattle.” When Elliot had been a rookie cop he’d been set to looking for the pack of coyotes responsible for a string of disappearing livestock. When he’d found out that it was the wolves, looking to the ranchers’ herds for prey to avoid wiping out the wildlife and drawing attention to themselves that way, he’d negotiated a treaty with the old pack leader. Elliot acted as an agent of the pack leader in buying livestock for the pack, and the pack left everyone else’s herds alone. After reporting to his superiors that he’d shot the “culprit” coyotes, the matter had been officially dropped, and Elliot had supplied the pack with prey ever since.
“Thank your father for me, and tell him we’re fine for now, but we might need more steers in a month or so. And please tell him that my employees report that the bull he sent over is doing his job with great enthusiasm. In a couple of years we won’t need him to buy cattle, our breeding herd will be large enough to supply our needs.” Joseph’s voice held a touch of pride, the idea of breeding their own cattle rather than constantly buying them had been his, and he’d worked hard to see it come to fruition.
Joseph thanked her and left, taking the bill with him. Jane stayed at the table, sipping her coffee and staring off into space.
“Honey, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him!” Jane looked up at the young woman who had served them. The girl exuded the kind of bubbly personality that made a person think waitress rather than the politically correct server.
“Pardon?”
“Your hunky friend there. I don’t think I’d get very far with him, but I’d sure give it a shot!” She stuck her hands in her apron pockets and sighed in the direction of the cash register.
“You’re welcome to try, uh,” Jane glanced at the nametag displayed on the left breast of the hideous green uniform shirt, “Susan. We’re just acquaintances.” Jane thought to herself that watching Joseph evade the advances of this entirely mundane woman would be highly entertaining.
“Oh, honey, you could have him any time you snapped your fingers. He’s chasing your tail like a coyote after a rabbit.” Susan the waitress put exasperated hands on her hips. “If you can’t see that then I feel sorry for you, girl.”
Jane choked on her coffee, both at the woman’s assertion and the way she’d expressed it. “I don’t think so.”
“He couldn’t take those gorgeous eyes off of you, honey. If I was you, I’d jump on that in a hurry! At the very least I bet he’d be a lot of fun for one night.” With that sage advice, Susan winked and walked away, leaving Jane with her jaw on the table.
Suddenly, Jane started chuckling. She finally realized what their conversation must have looked like. With lots of eye contact, leaning towards each other to speak quietly, a couple of shared jokes, they must have looked like they were flirting. She couldn’t exactly explain to the waitress that they’d been quietly engaged in a subtle dance of dominance, while discussing a murder committed by a creature that was supposed to exist only in the fantasy aisle at the bookstore.
Finally Jane gathered her keys and slid out of the booth, still chuckling to herself as she walked out of the restaurant. As she got into her car she burst out laughing again.
“Joseph chasing my tail. Now that’s a good one!” Jane shook her head and backed out of her parking spot. She didn’t stop chuckling until she remembered that she still had to speak to a traumatized horse about the most terrifying experience of its life.
-----------------
Jane walked into the restaurant a little late. She’d called her father before she left for the meeting, to get a refresher course on dealing with werewolves. Especially alpha werewolves.
“Babygirl, I don’t know if you’re crazy or stupid. How did you get wound up with Joseph?” Her father’s voice had been exasperated, and had held that daddy tone as well. Like she’d accepted a date from the man instead of a simple meeting on neutral territory to talk. About an unknown subject. When the pack leader had sounded like he was ready to draw blood. Okay, it wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done.
“Daddy, he called me and said he needed my help with something. The rest of the supes know what I’m capable of, you made sure of that when you had me help you track down that rabid dog four years ago. The one that had quit attacking cattle and started in on people, remember? So I assume it’s something that I can help him with.” Jane sighed. Her father walked a very thin line between letting her live her own life and being protective enough to satisfy his own fatherly urges.
“I know, Babygirl, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea of you meeting with a werewolf without me there. Can you call him back and postpone until I can make it?”
“Sure!” Jane said sarcastically, “But you’d better bring the fifty cal and some silver if I do. He was pretty growly when he called. You know better than that, Daddy. He’s already stressed to the max to be growling on the phone with me.” Joseph was one of the rare alphas who prided himself on being able to retain his humanity in either shape, and he made sure his wolves were entirely human in public. It was one of the reasons Jane hadn’t refused the meeting outright. In Joseph’s pack, they weren’t discovered because they didn’t make mistakes, unlike others she’d heard about, where clever cover-ups kept their existence secret.
“I know, I know.” Her father sighed. “Well, you know the basics, which should get you through a public meeting. Joseph will accept quite a bit from you that he wouldn’t from me, because you haven’t been around them that much.”
“Plus he respects you a lot so that will give me some extra protection, I know.” Jane’s father was Elliot Marx, retired cop and well-trained empath. He wrote murder mysteries now, with a supernatural twist of course. The supe community allowed him to put the “weird” stuff in because he wrote in as much misinformation as true. The books were huge hits, in both the mundane and the supe worlds.
“Well, the only advice I can give you beyond what you already know is to take a shower first. You’ve just come from the barn and you smell like horse, which is a prey animal. If he’s stressed out, it might be enough to push him further than I’m comfortable with. Even if he’s entirely in control, it would be polite to wash off the manure smell before dining with someone with a sensitive nose.”
“I don’t have time, Daddy, but I’ll wash as much of it as I can off with a washcloth.” Jane cursed the swamp in Speck’s stall that had made her run later than she’d planned.
“Well, that’s better than nothing. Be careful, Babygirl. And try not to push his buttons today.”
“I am not stupid enough to push buttons on a stressed out werewolf, Daddy. Not anymore, anyway.” Jane flushed red. Several years ago her father had been required to take her to a conclave, a meeting of the various types of extraordinary people in the area. He forgot that the wolves would be there, and hadn’t given her etiquette lessons before hand. As a result she’d unwittingly insulted several wolves and had to be rescued by the pack leader’s second.
“Good luck, Babygirl.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
So, Jane was a little late, having scrubbed down at the sink in her apartment and run water through her hair. She looked around the restaurant, searching for Joseph. This wasn’t a place she regularly frequented, although she’d eaten here before. It was truly neutral territory, which was the reason she’d chosen it. It certainly hadn’t been for the décor, which was a cross between southwestern and a fifties diner. Not the best combination she’d ever seen.
The food was mediocre, but there was no helping that. All the best restaurants in the area were frequented by pack members. Werewolves had high metabolisms, and were fairly picky about their food. At least in their two legged forms.
Jane finally spotted Joseph, in a booth near the back. He’d taken the side facing the entrance, and her back prickled as she thought about sitting with her back to the door. One of the benefits, if you could call it that, of having an ex-cop for a father was that she’d been steeped in what he called “situational awareness” since she was knee high to a grasshopper. Her twenty first birthday present had been the fee for her concealed weapons permit.
Jane considered for a moment asking Joseph to switch sides, or simply sitting beside him. Unfortunately, asking him to move probably wouldn’t get her anywhere, and sitting beside him- while it might facilitate a private conversation- would put off entirely the wrong impression.
Sighing, Jane crossed the room and sat across from the alpha werewolf.
Joseph’s nostrils flared, and Jane knew he was scenting her nerves, and probably the horses she’d been around in class. He didn’t smile.
“Sorry I’m late, Specks made a swamp out of his stall and I had to strip it. It took me a little longer than I expected.” Politeness was always a good idea, and apologizing for being late didn’t put her back in the dominance category. Their server appeared and took Jane’s drink order, and Joseph waited for her to leave before answering.
“And you stopped by your apartment.” Joseph raised an eyebrow. Jane closed her eyes for a moment and let his voice wash over her. The man did have a nice voice. He could give Vin Deisel a run for his money on that front. Of course, he could give him a run for his money on everything else, too. The pack leader was an extremely handsome man, standing six feet and two hundred and twenty five pounds of pure muscle. His honey brown hair was a little longer than he normally wore it, hanging over his collar in the back and developing a bit of a wave. His eyes were a startling emerald green in his tanned face. Jane had never figured out exactly what kind of ethnic background Joseph had, but whatever it was it blessed him with a perfect tan no matter what time of year it was.
After a moment, Jane brought herself back to business. “Well, I figured it would be impolite to show up reeking of ammonia and manure.” She tucked her hair behind an ear and picked up her menu.
“Believe me, I appreciate it, but I was referring to the smell of gun oil.” Joseph had dropped the eyebrow and now stared at her intently.
Crap, he thinks I brought the gun because of him. Jane raised her eyes and returned his stare.
“You know my father. Do you really think I’d leave the house unarmed in days like these?” Joseph sucked in a shocked and insulted breath, but before he could explode Jane blew out an exasperated sound and snagged a newspaper off the next table. She shoved it under his nose. “The rapes, Joseph. College students. All across the state. One here.” She spoke curtly, punctuating her words by shaking the paper under his nose, frustrated beyond all sense of manners.
Jane watched as understanding registered in Joseph’s eyes, and he reined himself in. She sighed, thinking about the serial rapist that had been hopping his way around the state, hitting college campuses. The rapes weren’t all on campus, but every one of the victims was a college student. The poor girl who’d been attacked from the Lamar Community campus had had to spend a week in the hospital.
“Really, Joseph, it’s not all about you all the time.” Jane couldn’t resist poking the big man a little bit. She smiled at him to make the needling into a joke, hoping that it would relax him a bit. No dice, he just stared at her.
“I apologize for jumping to conclusions. I’m a little,” he paused, “preoccupied, lately, and I haven’t been able to follow the news closely.”
Jane gulped. If he hadn’t been able to follow the news, he must have been busy indeed.
“No harm done. I don’t really expect to run into that guy, but I’m not taking any chances.” Jane leaned back in the booth and looked at the menu again.
“I’m surprised you’re worried at all, with your protections.” Joseph wasn’t referring to her Firestar, the small nine millimeter pistol she carried concealed in the small of her back. Elliot Marx was a highly respected man in the area, and many of the local supes owed him favors from his law enforcement career. Plus, Jane’s dual talents, talking to animals and strong empathy both, made her something of a curiosity to the supes, so she’d met many of them at a young age. Apparently she’d been cute, since she’d gained “aunts” and “uncles” by the score. Her parents said that it was because she hadn’t learned sarcasm until puberty.
“I’m sure anyone familiar with the community here would hesitate, but I don’t think this guy is our kind.”
“Oh?” Joseph was good at getting information out of people, but in this case he didn’t need to use any tactics. Jane wanted the pack leader to be aware of the situation. Sometimes bad men in the world just disappeared, and no one in the mundane world knew why. Or how. Jane was sort of glad of that second part.
“There’s no sign that he’s got anything more than a serious mental problem. I checked out the site of the one here and I didn’t get any flavor of supe in the echoes.” Jane shuddered at the memory. Even days later, the remnants of the emotions at that place had been enough to make her vomit behind a Dumpster. She had deliberately allowed the “echoes” to fade for nearly a week before she went there, and she hadn’t expected them to be so strong. She’d foolishly dropped her shields completely, thinking she’d have to read deeply. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Even the memory was enough to test her control, but she clamped down and kept her emotions in check.
“Ah. The pack will be aware.” Joseph finally looked down at the menu, dismissing the matter from his mind. Jane bristled a bit at his dismissal.
Joseph.” Her voice was hard, insistent.
“Yes?” He glanced up and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The girl, the one here. I went to see her.” Joseph still looked at her blandly.
“I couldn’t get past the lobby. She’s so emotionally damaged that she’s projecting hard enough to bring me to my knees through full shields.” Finally a reaction, Joseph’s eyebrows shot up and his emerald gaze was suddenly piercing again.
“And he’s not…” Joseph waved a hand between them. Jane almost laughed at the pack leader, the highest ranking werewolf in the area, lumping her in a group with himself.
“I don’t think so. But if the other girls are like the one here, he’s a hell of a manipulator. This goes beyond just physical violation; he broke that poor girl’s mind. She’ll never be the same.” A little tingle of apprehension ran up Jane’s spine. She couldn’t imagine going through something like that. Elliot had taught his only daughter a lot about protecting herself, but Jane knew that things didn’t always work the way you planned them.
Joseph’s eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared, and he looked like he wanted to call a hunt right then and there. That wasn’t what Jane had intended, she’d just wanted the pack to be watching for him to show up in their territory again. But, an alpha’s need to protect is strong, and Joseph had a certain sense of responsibility for all of the people, supes or not, in his territory. He routinely donated to local charities, and sometimes showed up at the homes of impoverished families with a deer that he had “just happened” to find on his land, killed by coyotes of course, and discovered before the meat could spoil.
“I will check the place myself and see if I can get a scent.” His voice was low, not quite a growl but close, and the anger radiating off of the alpha was enough to make Jane suck in a breath and check her shields. Joseph’s anger washed across her skin, pinpricks of rage biting at her.
“Um. Ok.” Jane cleared her throat. “I’d appreciate that.”
Joseph finally seemed to notice her discomfort, and visibly pulled himself together. “My apologies, again. Apparently I’m not up to my usual standard of control.”
“I noticed,” Jane commented breathlessly. “I’ll be all right in a second.” A couple deep breaths later and the angry ants marching down her arms had stopped. She nodded to Joseph, who had waited politely until she was calmed to continue. Jane suspected he’d used that time to calm himself, as well.
“I seem to be spending a lot of time apologizing to you today,” he said in a wry tone. “Let’s order, and then I’ll tell you why I asked you to meet me.” Joseph laid his menu down and caught the eye of a server. It was easy for him, with his innate dominance every person in a room kept a weather eye on him, even the normals. It wasn’t fear, but an instinctual response to being in the same space as a personality that dominant. Men like Joseph could sit at the head of a boardroom table, or at a corner table in a bar and still get that same attention.
Once their orders were placed they talked of commonplace things until their food was delivered. Jane sipped at her coffee and answered politely when Joseph inquired after her studies, and asked him in return how his business was going. Joseph owned a hunting ranch. His employees raised pheasants in pens, and then released them into an area of Joseph’s property for the city people who just had to bag a bird to hunt. Joseph, of course, had nothing to do with the day to day operations. Jane had heard that the last time he’d decided to inspect the pens, a quarter of the birds had literally been scared to death.
Finally, their food arrived, and Joseph cleared his throat. “I don’t know how much you actually know about wolves,” He looked at Jane inquiringly. He kept his voice low to keep it from carrying over the hum of conversations at other tables, and Jane did the same.
“Enough now not to go around insulting pack members at conclaves.” Jane grinned. Joseph had been the second that had rescued her all those years ago. He hadn’t been that much older than she was, but he’d had an alpha personality even then. When the old pack leader had died two years ago- in a wreck, of all things- there hadn’t even been a fight to settle who the new leader was. Joseph had simply stepped into the position and taken over. The rest of the pack accepted him because he’d proven himself as the old leader’s second, and because none of the grumblers were alpha enough to gainsay him.
Joseph smiled faintly in return, snorting a little. “Well I would hope so. More to the point, sometimes a person will lose control of their wolf, and do something that they wouldn’t if they were in control.”
Jane nodded. “That’s usually when someone gets turned accidentally, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s usually when we wind up with a new pack member.” Joseph sighed, “We had an incident last week.”
Jane thought for a moment, trying to remember anything that might qualify as a werewolf “incident.”
“Um, the lady in the canyons? That was one of yours? I didn’t think you guys normally ranged that far south. I figured it really was a cougar, like they said in the paper.” Jane knew she was babbling, but it bought her time to piece the story together and see if it fit. There had been a woman found near death in the canyons in the southern part of the county, after an exhaustive search when her trail horse had been found wandering and hysterical near the trailer.
"It was one of mine. She claims she lost control, but she’s one of the most controlled wolves I have.” Joseph rubbed his eyes with one hand, sighing. For the first time, Jane noticed the circles under his eyes, and wondered what in the world could run down the nearly inexhaustible pack leader.
“But,” Jane said, “If it was one of yours then…” She trailed off, thinking with horror of becoming a werewolf. She’d never be able to ride again. Horses went into a panic around the wolves, whether they were in their human shapes or not. Even the bravest, most steadfast of the hoof-kin had a deep rooted instinctual terror of weres. Jane started, realizing that all animals had that automatic fear. They’d never talk to her again. She shuddered. Talking to animals had been an integral part of her life for as long as she could remember. She had even had a horse babysitter. She couldn’t imagine life without being able to talk to her friends.
“The woman died this morning.” Joseph’s words held something of relief in them along with the regret. Well, Jane could understand that, sort of. If the woman had lived, he would have had a major cover up to do, along with a new wolf to keep in check until she gained enough control to follow the rules.
“Well, what do you need my help for then?” Jane’s brows drew together in a frown of confusion.
“I don’t think it was an accident.” Joseph dropped that bomb and paused while the waitress refilled their drinks. It gave Jane time to think. There was only one thing that the man could need that couldn’t be done better by others.
“You want me to talk to the horse.” Jane’s voice was flat, and she met Joseph’s eyes with her own angry gaze. A challenge, but she didn’t care at this point. “You want me to make that poor animal relive an experience that was so terrifying that I read in the newspaper they had to bring out a tranq gun before he would let anyone near him. Even then, the article said that he bit one of the rescue workers, and kicked two more.”
Joseph returned her stare and began to leak a little of the other-worldly power that made him alpha. If she’d been one of his pack, it would have been enough to make her back down and start spouting yes sirs. As it was, it whispered over her skin like a hot wind, raising goosebumps, and pressed on her mind, trying to bend her to his will.
“Oh cut the crap Joseph. I’m not one of your wolves. You asked me for help. If you want it you’ll have to give me a damn good reason to terrify an innocent animal, not cow me under sheer power.” Jane held his eyes, anger flaring in her own. A growl crawled out of his throat, low enough that it wouldn’t be heard at the next table. “I’m serious, Joseph Jones. I will not torture that creature without a very good reason, so either give it to me, or I’m out of here.” She waited only a moment, and began to slide out of the booth when he didn’t answer.
“Wait.” Joseph’s tone still held the wolf’s growl, but there was less of it. Jane hesitated. “The pack is calling for me to discipline Serina.”
Suddenly Jane understood, a little. Pack discipline was strict. It had to be, or the secrecy that protected them from bounty hunters with silver bullets would be a mere dream. The entirety of pack life was politics, knowing who to suck up to and who you could push around. Joseph was a controversial leader because he didn’t allow the more dominant members of his pack to simply beat on the submissive members. He ruled with an iron fist, but he was fair and took care of his own. He even let the pack have a voice in some of the decisions.
If pack discipline was involved then Jane might be better off not knowing. That kind of thing tended to be bloody. You couldn’t imprison a werewolf, not for long. And when they got out, they would be extremely pissed off at whoever had put them in a cage in the first place. No, in the pack you either got the crap knocked out of you, or if the transgression was serious enough, you were simply killed. But she was still hesitant. She told Joseph so.
“Prey animals have strong memories of danger or pain. That’s why a horse that’s been hurt by something will refuse to go anywhere near whatever it was again, even if it’s a lifetime later. If I bring this up to that horse he’s going to be utterly terrified, and I doubt I’ll be able to get anything useful out of him. It might even break his mind entirely.”
“I understand, and I'm sorry but the pack is calling her death. If you can’t help me somehow, I’ll have to kill Serina. I don’t want to do that, not without some kind of proof.” Joseph’s matter of fact tone was spoiled by the worry in it. She could tell that he didn’t want to have to kill the woman.
Jane remembered Serina from conclaves. She hadn’t liked the woman, who felt that as a wolf she was superior to any other creature. She wasn’t shy about letting a person know it, either. But that was no reason to let her be summarily executed if she wasn’t guilty.
“Crap. Ok, I’ll try. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll try. Do you know where the horse is?” Jane cringed inwardly at letting herself be drawn into this whole mess, but wrote the address Joseph recited on a napkin anyway.
“By the way, my dad wanted me to ask you how you’re doing on cattle.” When Elliot had been a rookie cop he’d been set to looking for the pack of coyotes responsible for a string of disappearing livestock. When he’d found out that it was the wolves, looking to the ranchers’ herds for prey to avoid wiping out the wildlife and drawing attention to themselves that way, he’d negotiated a treaty with the old pack leader. Elliot acted as an agent of the pack leader in buying livestock for the pack, and the pack left everyone else’s herds alone. After reporting to his superiors that he’d shot the “culprit” coyotes, the matter had been officially dropped, and Elliot had supplied the pack with prey ever since.
“Thank your father for me, and tell him we’re fine for now, but we might need more steers in a month or so. And please tell him that my employees report that the bull he sent over is doing his job with great enthusiasm. In a couple of years we won’t need him to buy cattle, our breeding herd will be large enough to supply our needs.” Joseph’s voice held a touch of pride, the idea of breeding their own cattle rather than constantly buying them had been his, and he’d worked hard to see it come to fruition.
Joseph thanked her and left, taking the bill with him. Jane stayed at the table, sipping her coffee and staring off into space.
“Honey, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him!” Jane looked up at the young woman who had served them. The girl exuded the kind of bubbly personality that made a person think waitress rather than the politically correct server.
“Pardon?”
“Your hunky friend there. I don’t think I’d get very far with him, but I’d sure give it a shot!” She stuck her hands in her apron pockets and sighed in the direction of the cash register.
“You’re welcome to try, uh,” Jane glanced at the nametag displayed on the left breast of the hideous green uniform shirt, “Susan. We’re just acquaintances.” Jane thought to herself that watching Joseph evade the advances of this entirely mundane woman would be highly entertaining.
“Oh, honey, you could have him any time you snapped your fingers. He’s chasing your tail like a coyote after a rabbit.” Susan the waitress put exasperated hands on her hips. “If you can’t see that then I feel sorry for you, girl.”
Jane choked on her coffee, both at the woman’s assertion and the way she’d expressed it. “I don’t think so.”
“He couldn’t take those gorgeous eyes off of you, honey. If I was you, I’d jump on that in a hurry! At the very least I bet he’d be a lot of fun for one night.” With that sage advice, Susan winked and walked away, leaving Jane with her jaw on the table.
Suddenly, Jane started chuckling. She finally realized what their conversation must have looked like. With lots of eye contact, leaning towards each other to speak quietly, a couple of shared jokes, they must have looked like they were flirting. She couldn’t exactly explain to the waitress that they’d been quietly engaged in a subtle dance of dominance, while discussing a murder committed by a creature that was supposed to exist only in the fantasy aisle at the bookstore.
Finally Jane gathered her keys and slid out of the booth, still chuckling to herself as she walked out of the restaurant. As she got into her car she burst out laughing again.
“Joseph chasing my tail. Now that’s a good one!” Jane shook her head and backed out of her parking spot. She didn’t stop chuckling until she remembered that she still had to speak to a traumatized horse about the most terrifying experience of its life.
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