Set the Record Straight

“Well, lookie here,” Gil said, pulling a folder out of a filing cabinet in the Mayor’s office. “Just as I suspected. Guess who doesn’t have a liquor license?”

Louie, deep in his own inspection of the records in another filing cabinet, snorted. “Start with a D?”

“Yeppur. Technically, the entire Pleasure Club complex lies outside the Talbot’s Peak city limits. We can’t provide him with liquor licenses or building permits or any of that fun stuff. He has to go through the county for that, and I know for a fact he never did.”

“Says who?”

“Beaver Brothers Construction, for starters. Who do you think built the place?” Gil slapped the folder onto his desk, where it joined a growing pile of similar damning evidence gleaned from both the county's online public records and Mayor Lincoln's old CYA files. “One phone call could make his life very, very difficult.”

“You want me to make it?” Louie said, with a far-too-eager grin. “I used to deal with the bureaucrats in Jersey. I speak the lingo.”

“Not just yet. I’m going to talk to him first. Which is more courtesy than he deserves. A recall vote? Seriously? He has no authority to call for that. He has no legal authority whatsoever. Who the hell does he think he is?”

“He thinks he’s protecting the Peak.” Louie made a ratty sniff. “Like we ain’t capable of crossing the street by ourselves if Dante ain’t there to hold our hands.”

“Protect, my ass. You know he held a secret meeting with his cronies to discuss that recall election? None of them even live in Talbot’s Peak. Hell, at least three of ‘em aren’t even native to Earth. And there they are, holed up in a bunker plotting to remove a legally-elected government official under the guise of a ‘recall.’ And who’d take over the office of Mayor? Somebody he approves of? That’s not protecting the people. That’s a would-be dictator planning a coup d’etat. All for our own good, of course. Seeing as how we’re all so helpless and vulnerable without his benevolent guidance. That kind of ‘protection’ we need less than Russia needed Josef Stalin.”

“All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others,” Louie quoted. “So let him take his toys and move out. Ain’t that what Damien threatened he’d do?”

“If he does, it’s gonna be one tiny exodus. Unlike our would-be overlord, I’ve been out on the streets the last couple of years. I don’t need a census list; I’ve met our population. Over eighty-five percent of Talbot’s Peak is herbivorous. Even the omnivores aren’t going to follow a wolf. He wants to leave? Let ‘im. We’ll all be right here waving bye-bye.”

Louie made a disgusted noise. “Is this still over the state money thing? That came from the bunnies we got in Congress. Don’t he know that?”

“I tried to tell him. Or I would have, if I could have gotten hold of him. If he was so concerned, he could have called me. We could have avoided this whole mess with a simple conversation. But what does he do? Throws his weight around. Doesn’t even come at me in person. He sends his girlfriend to chew us out. His girlfriend, who has even less authority than he does, and he doesn’t have any to start with. Y’know what kind of a man does that? I’ll give you a hint. It starts with A and ends in ‘hole’.”

“And wasn’t she feeling her oats?” Louie sneered. “Like any one of us was gonna take a swing at her. Hell, I’m a rat and even I’m more of a gennulman than that. Wish I’d taken her over my knee like I wanted to, though. Little bratty cat had it coming.”

“I hope she doesn’t get too full of herself and try that with Zhere Ghan,” Gil said. “There won’t be enough of her left to stuff into a baggie.”

“Dante ain’t gonna dick with Zhere Ghan. He respects Ghan. Ghan’s a fellow predator. Not like us insignificant little rodents what need his protection and all.”

“Typical wolf,” Gil said. “Thinks being alpha automatically puts him at the top of the food chain. Man, the acorn didn’t fall far from that tree. Though he’s right to be concerned about humans. Especially this human.” Gil tapped his chest. “Everybody forgets I used to be human. I’m out here on the front lines doing my damnedest to walk the thinnest tightrope you can imagine, keeping shifters and humans from winding up in a bloody no-win fight. Meanwhile, he’s scheming and doing end runs around me and cutting me off at the knees every time I make a move he doesn’t approve of. If he wanted so bad to protect the town, why didn’t he run for Mayor?”

“Because screwing with people’s more fun.” Louie smiled. “Gotta admit, he’s good. Wonder if maybe he’s part rat?”

“Doesn’t matter. Fun’s over. We’re going to have the talk we should have had weeks ago. This time he’s going to listen. We’ll work it out together, like we were always supposed to. If he can’t do that, if he can’t show some respect for the squirrel, then he’ll have to deal with the human. And believe you me, doggie’s gonna heel.”

“Speaking of nuts,” Louie said, “Damien’s still on the loose. You want me to deal with him? Jersey style?”

“Not necessary.” Gil patted his phone. “That’s a call I did make. We won’t have to worry about Damien Hancock for at least the next fifteen to twenty years.”

# # #

Damien looked up in surprise at the knock on his door. Surprise because he was currently sitting at his desk in the office of his stronghold halfway up the Peak, with half a dozen wolves outside. There shouldn’t even be a knock on the door.

He got up and went to the door. The polite rap came again. Damien yanked the door open.

Three men in dark glasses and crisp black suits stood outside the door. His guard wolves pressed against the wall in obvious terror. They wouldn’t look at Damien.

The man at the forefront flashed ID. He did not smile.

“Mr Hancock?” he said. “We want to talk to you. We’re with the IRS.”

Justifiable Herpecide

A woman walks into a bar. She wears a heavy cloak with the hood pulled up to hide her face—not out of a need to remain anonymous, but out of shame and a growing anger. The anonymity might come in handy for later, she reflects, and leaves the hood up.

The person she seeks sits casually at the bar, nursing a margarita. The woman slides onto a stool beside her target. The target glances her way, one eyebrow raised. “It’s my husband,” the woman says. “This time he’s gone too far.”

She orders a beer. The two sip their drinks and speak in low tones. Eventually an agreement is reached, and money is exchanged.

# # #

Osborne Hancock lay in his bed and grinned, watching the woman approach him. Even in the gloom he could see she was a looker. And naked, just like he’d insisted. He hitched his flabby legs apart. That wide, full-lipped mouth was made to have a cock thrust into it. He could tell by her walk she was ready and willing. Now he was assured she’d be able.

Yeah, that walk. There was something off about that walk. She didn’t move like a wolf, or a cat, or even a human. The sway of her hips suggested a serpent gliding over desert sands. Her scent was dry as scales. Just for a second unease overrode his lust. Then she sat on the edge of the bed with her tits hanging practically in his face, and he told himself he was being a nervous old mutt.

“Howdy,” the woman drawled. “Heard you were in the market for some company.”

“Oh yeah,” Ozzy rumbled. Up close she was even more striking, and her scent even more unsettling. “You’re not a wolf, are you?” he asked.

The woman tossed her hair and grinned at him. “That a problem?”

“Not to me. I like to try new things.”

“You’ll be trying new stuff out tonight for sure, I guarantee you that. Y’know your wife’s in the other room right now?”

“Fuck her. I’d rather fuck you.”

He reached for the woman. She swayed out of reach. “Uh-uh, sugah. I set the pace here. You just sit back and enjoy.”

All right. A skank willing to do all the work. Ozzy lay back down and rolled his fat legs even wider apart.

This evening’s skank took the hint. She positioned her body between his legs and her mouth right in front of his cock. She opened her mouth. Wide.

Holy shit, Ozzy thought. It was like her jaw had come loose. Was that even possible? What kind of a shifter was she?

She showed him.

His lust-befogged brain barely had time to register the fangs before they sank into his penis. What felt like molten acid squirted into his most tender area. He was still writhing when she struck again, this time at his sack. His scream almost shattered the windows.

“You bitch!” he howled through tears of agony. “Stinking—”

A high-speed buzzing answered him. Mocked him. Ozzy squinted through the sting of his tears and focused on the huge rattlesnake coiled between his legs. He hurled a pillow at it. The rattler dodged it easily and thumped off the bed. He lost sight of it in the shadows.

The implications sank in far more slowly than the fangs had. Rattlesnake. Bitten. He’d been poisoned. If he didn’t get help pronto, he was going to die.

Ozzy rolled off the bed and lurched to the door. He yanked it open and bellowed into the corridor for help.

Only one wolf appeared in answer to his frantic howl: Claudette, his meek omega wife. She did not look so meek tonight. She eyed his nudity, the blood and venom smeared across his private parts, in implacable silence.

“Call 911,” he barked at her. “I’ve been snakebit. I’ve been poisoned. I need an ambulance.”

She didn’t move. A little bit of a smile quirked her lips. “I don’t think you’re going to find anybody willing to suck that out.”

“Did you hear me? I’m snakebit! Call a doctor!”

“Don’t work yourself up, dear. It will only spread the poison through your system that much faster.”

Ozzy gaped at her. “You bitch. You put that snake in there.”

“And you pimped out our shes to those alphas. You turned our daughters into whores, for your own selfish ends.” In the twenty-three years of their marriage she’d always had trouble looking him in the eye. She had no trouble now. Her glare burned him like the venom in his bloodstream. “Our daughters, Osbourne. I know you married little low-rank me so you’d feel safe doing whatever you wanted. And I put up with it. Not this time. Even an omega has a breaking point.”

He found it hard to get his breath. His package had started to swell. He lifted his hand to smack her, and was terrified to see that hand shaking.

Screw her. He staggered down the hall in search of help, a phone, anything.

Once he was gone the sidewinder slithered out of the bedroom and became Rosa Terranova again. She rubbed the back of her hand vigorously over her mouth. “I’m gonna be brushing my teeth for hours,” she complained. “We good?”

“And then some.” Claudette pulled a wad of bills from the pocket of her robe and counted half of them into Rosa’s palm. “Your clothes are in my chambers. Use the back exit I showed you. No one will question you. My husband often entertains late-night visitors.”

“Whoo! This is more’n we talked about.”

“I didn’t ask you to bite him there. That was a nice touch, worthy of a bonus.” Something flickered in her eyes. Likely it wasn’t concern. “Will he die?”

“Not if’n he gets treated quick. Him runnin’ around like that ain’t helping him any. If he makes it, he’ll be sick as a dog for a week at least. He ain’t gonna be happy with you.”

“A week should be time enough. But you’re right. I may need some backup during the consolidation phase. How can I reach you?”

“Check for me at Humpty’s. I’m usually at the pool tables. If I ain’t there, leave a message with Jose.” Rosa touched her hand to the brim of an imaginary Stetson. “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am. I’m lookin’ forward to a long and profitable relationship.”

# # #

After the ambulance hauled her husband away, Claudette called the pack together. In the interim she’d taken time to dress in a dark, tailored suit that screamed power. The pack stared at her in awe. They weren’t used to sniffing confidence on Ozzy’s mousy little wife.

“My husband’s had a medical crisis,” Claudette announced. “He may or may not survive. Actually, that’s irrelevant. I’ve already reported his misdeeds to Damien Hancock. Osborne is no longer alpha of our pack. I’m running things now.” She smiled at the assembled wolves, especially the shes. The relief on their faces made her glow inside. “Things are going to be different from now on.”