“I’m a moose!” Trina Wilderson ran toward one of her new friends, the Adams twins, her hand stretched out trying to tag one of them. Her other hand held down the hat threatening to fall off her head.
Bartson Wilderson wanted to grab the stuffed antler hat off his daughter Trina’s head and clap a hand over her mouth. Her rising voice level wasn’t helping his growing headache. The twins screeching with her added decibels that would set a dog pack to howling. The three girls kept running in circles trying to tag the other as they waited with their parents for the carousel to stop. They headed up the next group to enter the ride.
Jason Adams wanted to grab the father of his twin daughters’ newest friend and shake him. Jason had promised his wife, he’d keep his animal leashed and controlled for the evening. Damn, couldn’t she read the human as easily as he could? What had she said after meeting Trina’s mother? Oh, yes. . .the poor woman needed friends and wanted to understand who the new comers were. Offering her a job at the diner would assist with keeping an eye on the humans around town. Hell, keeping Sherre Kahn under observation was not easy. Tomas’s request for backups had pulled in a few long overdue favors. Keeping family and children safe were utmost in importance.
The tall leggy brunette mother of the twins---well she had a set of legs that would quit. Give him a stepladder and a pogo stick and he’d---Keep your mind off my wife.
Bartson spun around and almost collided with the twins’ father. His muscles bulged and flexed with every breath he took. Had the man snarled at him? And the brunette? Bartson bet her eyes glowed golden green like cat eyes each time the carousel’s bright lights hit her eyes. Shit, were the rumors true about his new neighbors? Shape shifters from? Who the hell knew from where?
Bartson smiled and waved before turning back toward his wife. Trying to keep a straight face, he stepped toward the line forming near the carousel. Trina stood whispering in the ear of the twin girl closest to her. Seeing identical hats on the twin’s head, Bartson rubbed his hand up and down his pant leg. The vivid image of a large frothing at the mouth Doberman chasing him flashed through his mind
Look dude your mind isn’t gonna figure it out so give up or keep watching over your shoulder in your dreams.
“Jason,” his wife hissed in a low pitch snarl. “Remember we’re undercover.”
Jason nodded, wishing he could scare the prejudice bastard Bartson into shitting his pants. Drawing attention to his family wouldn’t help. Bartson’s wife and child deserved better treatment than their prejudice head of household offered them.
Bartson knew sticking with his kind made sense. True his disassociated fractured family tried to claim blue blood ties that even his great aunt the family genealogist shook her head over. If he added in his closest blood relatives. . .well he was sure they’d win a blue ribbon for dysfunctional family of the year. But mixing with half-bloods now that really rubbed his purity ethics in another direction.
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Happy Post Turkey Day everyone! Don't eat too many left overs. Christmas goodies are coming next. Remember don't shop till you drop. Keep to your budget and enjoy the time with family and friends.
2 comments:
A Turkey Fall Festival... what a great idea for the cubs and kidlets, and all the young-in's in Talbot's Peak... and what a way to keep an eye on all of the adults, whatever their heritage and motives.
What a great idea for a shapeshifter community, where they run the risk of missing persons reports being filed every time somebody puts turkey on the table. Or maybe it's just an excuse to party. Like they really need one ...
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