“You get scared, Celia?” Emme asked quietly.
I smiled without humor. As my sisters’ defender, I’d learned to charge first and deal with my terror after. Way after. “I’m scared a lot, Emme.”
“Sorry,” she responded meekly. “I guess that was a stupid comment.”
“It’s not, babe. I just have a good game face.” I slowed the car as I took the turn down a steep hill. It gave a stunning view of the water. Tahoe summers were gorgeous, but the demon lord’s unknown whereabouts and killing spree wouldn’t allow us to enjoy it.
“Are the runs helping you deal with some of this shit?”
“What? Oh, sorry, Taran. The running helps to a point. My tigress has been hard to control. It’s all I can do to stop myself from changing, especially once night comes. The air alters come sundown, I think because Tahoe gets energized by the moonlight.”
Emme leaned in from the back. “I’m surprised your runs don’t help you more. You seem so relaxed when you return with Aric, sweetie.”
“It’s only because he’s with me.” I stopped behind a log truck. The driver stepped out fast and adjusted the orange flags before rushing back inside, but it was the dark blue sedan driving in the opposite direction that caught my eye. I recognized the driver as that wereweasel Aric and I had encountered several weeks back. We’d taken a moonlit walk along the beach when the supernatural equivalent of a paparazzo jumped out and snapped a photo of us. I scowled when he waved. Asshole.
“What is it, Celia?” Emme asked.
“That stupid weasel that photographed me and Aric just passed us.” My scowl deepened. “He has a lot of nerve waving like we’re pals.”
“Just ignore him, Celia. Someone like him isn’t worth your time or energy.” Sometimes Emme didn’t need her mojo. Her soft voice worked its own magic. “Now, what were you saying about Aric?”
I followed the log truck. “Just that his beast has a tendency to settle mine. When he’s away from me, it’s a lot harder.” I shrugged. “Mostly, I think my tigress longs to fight with his wolf.”
Shayna swiveled in her seat. “I want to talk to Koda about going out with him again. Will you talk with Aric?”
“I can. The problem is I think my presence makes matters worse for him with his Elders. And he’s already under enough stress.” I pulled on to the road leading to our hospital. Like with many of the buildings and restaurants in the area, the stacked stone and wood exterior blended in with the environment and gave it a more mountainous appeal.
“This sucks, Ceel. But you know what? I bet if they saw how tough you are, they’d see past our, you know, uniqueness.”
“You mean ‘weirdness’?”
Shayna smiled with all the sympathy she could muster. “Yeah, dude. That, too.” She curved her fingers and bounced her hand in front of my face. “They have to accept you. You’re his sea horse.”
“You’re such a spaz.” I laughed and pushed her hand out of my face. “What do you mean by that anyway?”
It was Taran who answered, though her tone lacked Shayna’s good humor. “Sea horses mate for life, Celia.”
• • •
I flipped through my patient’s electronic chart before entering her room. Sandra Conchita Espinosa-Valdez. Spanish-speaking only. Fourth baby. Desiring a nonmedicated birth. This patient was right up my alley. I entered her room. The labor rooms all mimicked one another: one patient bed, a guest bed beneath the large windows, and a crapload of medical equipment secretly stashed behind the inconspicuous wooden panels on either side of the bed.
I smiled. “Good morning. Are you ready to have your baby?” I asked her in Spanish.
The raw scent of fury stopped me from approaching the bed. A wolf in human form leapt across the room and landed in front of me, his hands out, the muscles of his arms bulging. “Get away from my mate,” he said in broken English.
My tigress didn’t like his posture or his threatening tone. I had to work hard to pull back a growl. I took a breath, trying to relax my stance. When I felt somewhat certain I wouldn’t lunge for his throat, I dropped my hands to the sides and slowly retracted my claws. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt her. I’m here to help her have your baby.”
His nostrils flared and he growled forcefully enough to shake his form.
The woman in bed sat up, clutching her large stomach. “Papi, no,” she said when he took a step toward me.
“She’s not normal, not human,” the wolf said in Spanish.
I returned to speaking in Spanish, hoping to connect with him and to keep my fist from connecting with his jaw. “No, I’m not human. But I also mean no harm.”