Rachel Vincent - Shift

Everything had changed for Kaci, and she had yet to find balance in her new life. Peace and acceptance of her past would be difficult to come by when someone was always trying to snatch her from her home.

Especially this most recent attempt.

“Here’s what we know.…” All gazes tracked my father as he began to pace across the center of the room. “The thunderbirds think we killed one of their young men.” He held up one hand for silence when questions were called out from all over the room. “We’ll get to the particulars of that in a moment. But first, the bird Owen captured is named Kai. No last name—they don’t use them.”

“How do they tell one another apart?” my uncle asked, leaning against the far wall next to a morose and silent Ed Taylor. Jake’s family would not have time to truly mourn him until life returned to normal, and no one was willing to hazard a guess on how long that would take.

My dad shrugged. “My theory is that there are too few of them to necessitate repeating names.”

“Or they have a bunch of names,” I suggested. Dad started to frown at me, but I held up a hand to ask for patience. “I’m serious. They keep themselves completely set apart from human society. If we did that, even with our relatively large numbers, including the strays—” Blackwell scowled at that, but I ignored him “—would we need last names? We can tell at a single sniff what family a fellow cat is from, and if we didn’t live and work within the human society, why would we need last names?”

To my surprise, though Blackwell still scowled, everyone else actually seemed to be considering my point. “All I’m saying,” I continued, aiming my closing statement at Blackwell, “is that just because they only have one name apiece doesn’t mean there aren’t bunches of them. If their population was really that small, would they risk picking a fight with us?”

“Okay, that’s a valid point,” my father conceded. “We’ll hold off any assumption about the size of their population until we have further information from Mr.…Kai.”

“Did he give you anything useful?” Blackwell tapped his cane softly on the carpet.

“In fact, Faythe and Marc did get two valuable bits of information from him. Without pulling out a single feather.” I couldn’t help but grin at that. My father would seize any opportunity to emphasize my worth to the other council members. Ditto for Marc. “First of all, thunderbirds have no Alpha.”

Bert Di Carlo spoke up from behind me, and I twisted to see him frowning. “You mean they’re currently without an Alpha, or they never had one?”

“Never had one,” I answered. My father raised one brow but let me continue, so I bobbed my head at him briefly in thanks. “According to Kai, they make decisions as a group.”

“Like a democracy?” Kaci’s bright brown eyes shone with the first glimpse of curiosity I’d seen from her in more than a week—since I’d evaded her questions about my sex life. “So they, like, vote?”

“I don’t think it’s quite that simple. Or maybe it’s not quite that complicated.” I shrugged and altered my focus to address the entire room. “I don’t entirely understand, but the impression I get is that they make decisions as a single unit, but that it’s nothing so formal as an actual vote. And their word is their law. Literally. Kai refuses to break a vow from his Flight, or even contradict it. Even if we convince him that we’re innocent.”

“So, they’re honorable murderers?” Jace shifted on the couch to look at me around Kaci’s head, but my father answered.

“They don’t see it as murder. They’re avenging the death of one of their own, and they’ve been told by one of our own that we’re responsible for that death—a young thunderbird named Finn.”

“Who told them that?” Ed Taylor demanded, pushing off against the wall to stand straight, his still-well-toned arms bulging against the material of a pale blue button-down shirt.

“Is it true?” Blackwell asked softly, before anyone could answer Taylor’s question.

My father sighed and stopped pacing to face the elderly Alpha. “I don’t think so, but we can’t confirm that without more information, which Kai is unwilling to give us at the moment. But as soon as we’re finished here, we’ll begin contacting our Pride members for questioning one at a time. That will take a while, but I don’t see any better course of action right now.”

Blackwell nodded reluctantly, and my dad turned to Taylor.

“As for who’s accusing us…” He glanced at me, then back to his fellow Alpha. “Logic and—frankly, gut instinct—would point to Calvin Malone.”

I was watching Paul Blackwell as my father spoke, and as I’d expected, his face flushed in anger and his chest puffed out dramatically. If he’d had fur in that moment, it would have been standing on end. “You cannot go around accusing Calvin of everything that goes wrong, just because you don’t like him. You have no proof he was involved in tagging those strays, and none to show for this, either!”

No, we had no proof that Malone was responsible for implanting tracking devices in several of the strays we’d fought when Marc was missing, but we did have proof implicating Milo Mitchell—Malone’s strongest ally. Unfortunately, while tagging strays was immoral without a doubt, it wasn’t illegal, technically speaking, and we currently lacked enough votes on the council to remedy that. So our case against Mitchell—and against Malone by extension—was on hold. Indefinitely. Another massive thorn in my already tender side.

My father remained much calmer than I felt, though I was proud of myself for biting my tongue. Literally. “We’re not accusing him, Paul. We’re suspecting him. Strongly.”

“Because he’s opposing your bid for council chair?”

“Because at their informant’s request, the thunderbirds have agreed to try to remove the tabbies from the ranch before the height of their assault. Calvin Malone has publicly stated that he wants Kaci and Manx removed from the Lazy S, and that he’d rather see Faythe set back on the ‘proper’ path for a young woman. Who would you consider a more likely suspect?”

Blackwell faltered, and the flush faded from his cheeks as his gaze dropped to the curve of his cane. “He wouldn’t do this. I know you and Calvin don’t get along—I don’t see eye to eye with him on everything, either—but he would never do this. Conspiring against a fellow Alpha with a hostile third party—one of another species! That’s…treason.”

“Yes.” My father let the quiet gravity of his voice resonate throughout the room. “It is.”

Blackwell stood unsteadily and stared at the ground before finally meeting my dad’s expectant gaze. “You know I can’t act without proof, and I only have a week left as council chair, anyway. But I will launch a formal investigation into this. Today.”

“Why should we trust your investigators?” Bert Di Carlo looked almost as outraged as Blackwell looked suddenly exhausted. And every bit of his seventy-two years.

“Because you just volunteered for the job.” The old man met Di Carlo’s gaze gravely. “I’ll pair you with Nick Davidson, to keep things even.” Two days earlier Davidson had officially thrown his weight behind Malone. “If Calvin is responsible for this, you have one week to bring me proof. After that, the point is moot.”

Di Carlo nodded and Blackwell turned back to my dad. “Where can I make some calls?”

“My office.” My father waved one hand toward the door, gesturing for the older Alpha to help himself. Blackwell made his way to the hall, and my dad turned to the rest of us. “My enforcers, start at the top of your call tree and work your way down. Pass me the phone if you find someone who’s ever seen a thunderbird, or knows anything about them. Even if it’s just a rumor, or an old Dam’s tale. If they know anything more than that thunderbirds can fly, I want to talk to them.”