“Then what do we do?” Adam asked. “Suppose we gather as many people, shifters and humans both, on Monday night and force the hands of the authorities to shut down the fracking site, what happens next?”
“We hold our breath and wait,” Melinda said, joining her mother in the center of the room. “All I can say is that my gut tells me this is serious. The unrest I feel is overwhelming. I’m sure I can say the same for my mom, Laurie, and Mimi.”
“Where’s Mimi?” Sharon asked.
Melinda turned to face Jackson’s side of the room. “She wasn’t feeling well. We convinced her to stay home. I’m sure it’s the same thing the rest of us are feeling. She’s been pacing around her home all day. She’s exhausted with worry.”
Sharon nodded, and Jackson could feel her pulse increase where his thumbs were settled on her wrists. Obviously Mimi was a respected member of the entire community, and no one wanted to hear she was so distressed.
Jackson hadn’t met the older shaman before that morning, but she had seemed frail and aging to him. He hoped it wasn’t serious. Perhaps she got that way whenever there was a spirit sighting.
He glanced around the room at the variety of faces, all with the same goals. These people were family. It didn’t matter if they were white or red or shifters or humans. They were bound to each other by love and blood, and apparently Fate.
He smiled as he realized this was his family now too. His own parents would never understand this, and it would be a long time before he would even consider telling them, but he knew in his heart this large group would be his family from now on. Only a few of them were strictly human. But that didn’t matter to a single member. They were one. They would fight as one. And he was with them.
He blinked away his wandering thoughts and glanced down at Sharon as she squeezed his hand. “Your parents live in Sojourn, right?” She must have read some of his thoughts.
“Yeah, but I don’t see them often. They aren’t the picture of sweet, kind, loving people. And they certainly won’t understand this new development of mine.” He tried to smile, knowing it was half-hearted.
She leaned in closer while Cooper spoke into Jackson’s mind from across the room. “You have us now. Forever.”
Jackson’s face flamed as he lifted his gaze to meet his other mate’s, emotion making it impossible to form words. But he didn’t need to. Cooper shot him a knowing smile, and Sharon held him close.
It was enough.
Chapter Twenty
“Where’s Cooper?” Sharon muttered into her pillow, trying to turn her face toward Jackson. She felt his presence even before she was fully awake. She also felt Cooper’s absence.
Jackson stroked a finger down her cheek and smiled. “That’s just weird.”
“What is?” She smiled back as she flipped over onto her back so she could see him better. Everything ached deliciously. The sun wasn’t up yet, but she knew it was early morning.
“Your strange psychic abilities.”
“You mean Coop? That’s not psychic. That’s scent.”
“Scent?” He stared.
“I can smell you both from a great distance. His scent lingers in the condo, but he isn’t here.”
“Ah.” He grinned wider, obviously fighting a laugh.
“What?”
“And you think that’s less weird?”
She shrugged and wrapped her hand around his neck to haul him down for a kiss. “It’s not strange to me.”
He nibbled a path across her top lip and then the bottom before leaning back again. “He went to the office of course. I think that man is obsessed with his job. We may never see him often.”
She lifted both eyebrows. “At least when he isn’t here, we can find ways to get to know each other better without his highhanded method of directing every move.” She was teasing, but on the other hand, it was a fact that the dynamic between Jackson and herself would be different when they were alone.
A wide grin spread across his face. “So very true.” He wove his fingers into her hair and let the strands fall through them. “So soft.” His gaze moved to her mess of curls.
She couldn’t imagine anything about her untamed hair could be considered soft at that moment, but she enjoyed the feel of his hands running through the strands.
“He does have a way about him,” Jackson commented.
“Yes.” She took the opportunity to study Jackson’s face while he stared at her hair where it haloed around her on the pillow, mostly his doing.
He could be serious at times, his brow often furrowed in concentration. She imagined he got consumed in his work when he was at his computer pushing numbers. The side job as a local logging inspector was almost incongruent.