Frost Security(3)

The other guys, Jacob, Matthew, and Frank had come along over the course of the next couple years. Every time our IT girl, Lacy, found a report of a wolf spotting in a place where wolves were never spotted, Peter or I flew out for recruitment. Most of the time they had a pack, or we realized they weren't up to snuff for our team. But sometimes, you found guys like us. Ex-military, living their lives as veterans in the best possible ways they knew.

Like Jacob, who had been a cop in LA after he mustered out of service. Or Frank, who'd been a private bodyguard in Brazil after serving his country. Or even Matthew, who had been a firefighter after doing his time as a rescue jumper in the Air force. Sure, they could be rough around the edges at certain times, but they were all good men. I was proud to call them part of my pack. And that was a phrase I'd never imagined myself my saying: part of my pack.

Then, of course, there was me. Served two tours in Afghanistan, but came home to nothing. No family, no parents, no girlfriend. My father had cut us from the pack, got tired of their gypsy ways, unique to them, and settled down with a human woman. They had me. By the time I'd realized what I was, though, he was dead from a hit and run accident. Mom remarried, but the guy was a real asshole. She pushed me off into the military. I didn't want to leave her unprotected, but she'd forced me to go. Said she wanted a better life for me than she could provide.

Looking back, it was clear she knew what was coming. My stepfather murdered her six months into my first deployment, confessed to the cops and everything. By the time I'd gotten back, they'd locked him up in the federal pen for life, and I had no chance for revenge. I would've taken it, too, so it was probably better there'd been no delay with a trial. It took me a little while to get over my anger, but I finally did.

I worked as a bouncer for a couple years after I got out, until Peter found me. We spotted each other, at first, as he came into the little bar in Texas where I was working, like two veterans sometimes do. It's the way we stand, the way we scan the room for possible threats, the way we cross our arms even. We knew right off the bat that the other guy had seen combat.

Then, of course, we smelled each other. A musky, othery scent that only shifters can smell on one another, like two wolves in the wild. He left and bought a bottle of whiskey and a case of beer, then waited around for me in the parking lot till after close.

He hadn't been my first shifter to meet like this, but he'd been the first one to put up beer and bourbon as a peace offering. We split the booze and stayed up till morning in his shitty motel room, unburdening ourselves of how different we were. How unlike the rest of the shifters out there, the wild ones who didn't care about people the way we did. He told me about his plan to come up here, to Enchanted Rock, and start his own business. About how he could use a man like me on the payroll. It sounded too damned good to be true.

“You wanna pay me to follow people and video tape cheating wives and shit? I don't know how to do that, man. I can shoot and fight, and that's about it. Hell, it's even been a while since I hit the range. Probably take a few clips to get back in the swing of things.”

He'd laughed. “You'd be surprised what they teach us in the SEALs, Richard. If they can get me up to snuff, then I can do the same for you.”

And the rest is, as they say, history.

I walked through the little office, past Gen's desk, bag of double-meat cheeseburgers from Dixie's in hand. Genevieve was our den mother, of sorts, our secretary and first employee. A sweet little older woman, late sixties, with a crop of fiery red hair that was just starting to go white in a few spots. Her granddaughter was Lacy, our IT girl. “Back for the meeting, or just bringing the old dog his lunch?” she asked as I headed past her and went back to Peter's office. “Because he needs to eat more than he needs to work. He'll be skin and bones before too long if he keeps this up.”

Yep, she was our den mother, alright. And she was also one of the few humans who knew what we actually were. She loved us all, regardless of how different we were.

“Meeting?” I asked, confused.

“Supposed to be here in ten. Do you not read your text messages, young man?”

That was right! I remembered now that my phone had buzzed while I was driving up to Dixie's. I winced. “Sorry, Gen, I was driving and forgot to check it after I got out of the Jeep.”

She made a face, seemed disappointed in me.

“Well, do you want me careening through the mountains with one eye on my phone?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, meeting's in a few minutes, so make sure he stuffs at least one of those burgers down his throat. You know how he gets with low blood sugar!”