These investors were shifters, and that changed everything.
"Garius Beren," the big man said as he stepped forward, offering a massive mitt of a hand. "This is my associate, Conri Lyell."
"Sam Todd." Sam shook Garius's hand with the sensation that the huge shifter could do a 'puny god' scenario with him effortlessly. Hewouldn't, obviously, but the image of being flung around like that struck him vividly anyway.
His fox, a quiet animal, lifted its head cautiously to eye the other shifter.The big one is a bear, not a god.
Sam chuckled silently.It's from a movie.He was rather fond of those films, but the fox immediately lost interest and went back to resting. "Gentlemen, would you care to sit? I can have drinks brought in." He gestured at Chase, who'd remained in the doorway until he made the oblique offer. He disappeared as the other shifters made appropriately polite noises as they took seats on the brown leather couches.
As soon as Chase was gone, Lyell spoke. "This is already more interesting than I expected. Mr Todd, I assume we can speak freely here?"
"There isn't really anyone to overhear, but for the sake of propriety we should probably wait for Chase to come back with the drinks and close the door behind him on the way out," Sam replied, and offered an easy small-talk topic: "I assume you found the place without difficulty?"
"It's a beautiful drive," the big man, Garius, said. "Remarkably isolated. I live in a similar estate."
Conri grunted with amusement. "You live in an architecturally-designed bunker on an Italian mountainside in a mountain range you own half of."
Garius looked rather tragically injured at the accusation, which was funny on a man his size. "That's what I said. And I don't own the Apennines. I just support the government's park project that encompasses a considerable portion of them."
Conri gave another amused grunt, and Sam coughed on a laugh. Neither of these men were anything like what he expected. A moment later Chase came in with a tray that held water, whiskey, two kinds of soda, and a number of cups and glasses suitable to those things and the coffee that he said was now brewing. He did close the door behind him, and Garius Beren cut straight to the heart of the matter. "Are you familiar with the Gladiator Foundation, Mr Todd?"
"Vaguely. Why don't you tell me about it?" Sam poured drinks, the men indicating their preferences with brief gestures as Garius said, "On the surface we support the conservation of rare species and endangered environments. As you might guess, given what you yourself are, our definition of 'rare species' goes quite a lot farther than most. We're trying to keep the world safe for shifters, Mr Todd, and Virtue came to our attention recently."
"I hadn't known there were sanctuary towns," Conri said with surprising softness. "Our line of shifters doesn't have them."
"Your line?" Sam's fox lifted its head again, brightening with a curiosity he also felt.
"We can trace our ancestors back to the Roman arenas," Conri said. "But not all shifters can."
"Most of them can't," Garius put in dryly. "Or so I understand. We keep track of our own shifter line through a variety of means, and I knew there were others, but…like Conri, I didn't realize there were sanctuary towns. Our interest, Mr Todd, is in keeping this spacesafe. We're not investors looking for an annual thirty percent return. We're looking for a future for the world's shifter population."
A slow smile crossed Sam's face. "I want to see Virtue thrive, gentlemen. But I'm not willing to see it destroyed. If there's a space in there to invest, then we have something to discuss."
"We drove through," Conri said. "But we were wondering if you'd be willing to show us around. If all our money is good for here is pouring it into the community so no one has to rely on more predatory investors, then I, for one, am comfortable with that." At Sam's curious look, he cleared his throat and added, "I'm the CEO of All-Arena Entertainment."
Sam blinked once, then a second time before his eyebrows rose. "The professional wrestling…" 'Company' didn't even begin to cover it. "Empire?"
"My family has run it and its predecessors for centuries," Conri agreed with a nod. "Money is, as they say, not an object."
"I'm rich," Sam said mildly. "Next to the AAE, though, I'm part of the 99%. And you?" he couldn't help asking Garius.
"In a similar position," the big man said with a shrug. "The Gladiator Foundation is only the charitable arm of a larger conglomerate. I can't spend money fast enough to make a dent. So if we can actually be ofuseto Virtue, and possibly other sanctuary towns—" The words came with a question attached, although he didn't actually ask it. Sam nodded, indicating that he did know of others, and Garius went on without missing a beat. "—then I'd be happier to offer real assistance than just make it difficult for other investors to get in here. But as Con says, if a quiet influx of cash is all Virtue needs, that's fine, too."
Sam had all but talked himself into going into town anyway, before he'd even met these two men. Now he stood and spread his hands. "Well, let's go take a look and see what we can do."
CHAPTER3
Charlee had insistedon moving Lola's things into the apartment over the bar that morning, and Lola had to admit it was rather nice to be in a space she could think of as all her own, instead of the Jones' B&B. She also admitted, privately, that she preferred not to stay at the B&B for long anyway. The young woman at the front desk was a stranger to her, but Lola had known the Jones family when they'd all been in school together, and she thought the young woman's parents—or maybe grandparents—might recognize her. It was silly, maybe, to not want to be recognized after fifty years, but she hadn't been Charlotte Nelson for a long, long time, and she still wasn't used to remembering she once had been.
It was afternoon before she left Charlee's apartment again, partly because she was settling herself in, but mostly—if she was truthful with herself—because she was nervous. She hardly expected to simply run into Sam at the town square, but the possibility existed now, when it hadn't, before.
"On the other hand," she told herself in the mirror as she put her coat on, "you're an adult, Charlotte. An old woman, even. And you can't spend your days hiding in an apartment like a coward, or a child."
The woman in the mirror looked more amused than afraid, which was helpful. She put a hat on—one she'd knitted herself, badly, and adored—and tucked her collar up around her jaw before taking the stairs down past the bar and out into the wide world.
Or the small town, which was perhaps more alarming than the entire wide world, just then. The wind kicked around her as soon as she stepped outside, and she wished she'd brought a scarf, but the prospect of going back up two flights of stairs was daunting enough to not bother, with these old knees. There were cafes—and the doughnut shop that Charlee wanted her to have more than coffee at—so if she got cold, she would stop inside one of those and watch the world go by.
The new library was up past the old, but still-in-business, movie theatre. Lola walked that way, after testing the snow-patched open space with a toe. It alternately squished and crunched, neither of which seemed like safe footing. Besides, the wet parts would ruin her shoes. So she took the long way around, studying the half-familiar buildings and their less-familiar contents. By the time she reached the library, a few blocks away from the town center, she was chilly enough that she wished she'd just walked around the giant square and gone straight into the doughnut shop for coffee. But since she was there, she slipped into the library like someone might notice and call her out as being a familiar stranger in town.
