Aaron? Seth’s father’s name? His mother named her protagonist after his father? He chuckled, wondering what dear old Dad’s reaction might have been. He tried to picture a long, skinny tail and sharp teeth, unable to imagine what fearsome creature his dad’s namesake transformed into at the whims of the lunar cycle.
Brown fur, mottled with cream, and he hissed when another of his kind approached.
Hissed? Like a snake? Seth recalled several stories she’d told him before bed, most involving knights and maidens, with the occasional personified squirrel or rabbit thrown in for good measure. He’d no idea his mother was such an accomplished storyteller and had little doubt she could have sold the contents of the notebook for a pretty penny.
Riveted to her words, he followed her heroine into the forest, in search of a changed lover.
And there in the moonlight I saw them, more than I’d ever seen in a single place before.
The page ended and he quickly turned to the next one, heart thudding, to find the word he’d been seeking:
Possums! Cute little things, with naked tails!
Huh? An incredible lead-up, only to have the love interest be a possum shifter? Seth would have laughed out loud if he hadn’t found the whole situation tragic. Who wanted to read about the dreaded werepossum?
Though sadly disappointed with the current plot twist, he continued on a few pages to find:I’m pregnant. Aaron assures me the baby will be fine. Half bloods sometimes manifest the virus, he says, sometimes they don’t, but we’ll have to keep a careful watch. He’s taking me to his family doctor….
The house phone rang and Seth darted down the stairs, soon losing himself in details while speaking with a realtor. He forgot about his mother’s novel.
“HE MAYbe an asshole, but he’s not disgusting or anything. Why
didn’t you go for it?”
Sometimes Dustin wished Monica wasn’t quite so outspoken. If she’d have hinted around, made nice, he’d simply have sidestepped the question. He’d never learned how to flat out lie to her direct approach. “Because he’s leaving in a few days, will never look back, and I don’t want to be remembered as a ten-minute roll in the hay.”
“Ten minutes? Damn, been a while, huh?”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. Monica batted hers. “I’ve got all the complications I need right now, thank you very much. Like, where the hell I’m going to come up with a… with a….”
“Sucker?”
Dustin shot his assistant a meaningful glower. She appeared unimpressed. “I was going to say ‘viable candidate’.”
“Face it,” Monica replied, “we only have three logical choices. You, Widow Pickens, who’s too old, and Junior Timmerman, who suffers from a bad case of heartless asshole. No need to guess what’ll happen if Junior takes over: bye-bye, secrecy.”
Walking on eggshells his whole life not to slip up and say the wrong thing to the wrong person took a toll on a man. “Living out in the open might not be so bad.”
Monica thwacked the back of Dustin’s head. “Are you nuts? Do you have any idea what would happen if we suddenly announced, ‘Oh, yeah, there’s a colony of shape-shifters living in North Georgia. Oh no, we’re not cool like werewolves. We’re fucking possums!’ How long do you reckon it’d take for every predator shifter in the country to beat a path to our door? Or gun-toting lunatics, out to bag the ultimate prize? Or how long before we’re denied equal rights? You think gay marriage is a hot topic? You ain’t seen nothing yet!”
Visions of a happy world where everyone got along vanished in apoofof mental smoke. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve made your point. But Junior does have his supporters.”
“Every crowd has a few dickheads. Because a few morons believe his bullshit doesn’t make him right.”
Dustin ventured, “You could do it.”
“Ain’t no way in hell. They wouldn’t accept a half blood whose father was a first generation possum, and I don’t want the headache. It’s not in me to play nice.”
True enough. From anyone else Dustin would suspect false modesty. Both beginning with “M” was the only thing “Monica” and “modesty” had in common. Dustin sagged down into his office chair while Monica parked herself on his desk, drumming her nails against the wooden surface and attempting to run his life. “Anyhoo, getting back to the original subject, the guy who isn’t a troll didn’t run when you kissed him, and offered free nookie. If you talk him into staying, and groom some of the insensitive prick out of him, it might sway some of Junior’s supporters your way. Old habits are hard to break, and a McDaniel has led the passel since the day they arrived in the area. If folks spotted the last member of a once great family hanging on your arm—”
Dustin’s mouth dropped open. “Are you suggesting I use him?”
“What you want, what I want, what Junior wants, doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. Someone’s got to lead or we’ll have chaos. Regardless of how cleverly she lassoed you into the number two spot, Irene was right in giving you the job. You need every tool at your disposal to ensure that her wishes are carried out. Imagine Seth McDaniel as a hammer to build your barn, because, damn it, winter’s coming, and we better be ready.”
No point denying the truth. Ever since accepting Irene’s inevitable end, Dustin had studied every member of the passel without finding a single suitable successor.
He blew out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. “I have three full moons to make a choice, and I won’t announce a decision one moment before I have to.”
“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?” A wicked gleam appeared in Monica’s eyes.
