Page 16 of Shifters in the Night

“The damn things are twenty years old,” Elliot scoffed. “You know there’s gonna be a next time!”

Jon tried to keep a neutral face on while Elliot walked back to his truck. More lost business. This was starting to become a serious problem. The boat community around here was like a small town in itself. Sure, Elliot was being pretty civil about the whole thing, but other customers might not be. All he needed was for people to start talking and his reputation would sink. He’d have plenty of room on his waitlist because nobody would be on it.

He realized that he was still holding Lia’s card in his hand and a strange empty sensation spread through his chest. How was he was supposed to date a lady like that when he was a recluse whose business was sliding down the slippery slope toward failure? She was probably used to dating executive types, or, at the very least, guys who didn’t drive fifteen-year-old trucks.

He slipped the card into his pocket, telling himself he’d think about it, but knowing he’d probably talk himself out of calling her.

Dammit.

5

LIA

Sometimes, her job felt like a perpetual first day of school.

Just as Lia expected, the department head meeting was a parade of new faces, but some of them she recognized. Alex Lancaster was kind enough to introduce her to people as they waited for the meeting to start, so she didn’t have to serve as some awkward agenda item. There was Zed, of course, and Alex. Lia recognized Sonja from her help setting up video conferences with town officials. (Zed had problems with determining how close he should sit and talk to web cams.) The others she was sure she would lose track of soon; a pale and intense girl named Ivy, who was the local coroner, because that made sense in a tiny town without a hospital; some redheaded guy named Adam, and a mysterious Irishman who didn’t give off any emotional energy at all.

Lia couldn’t help but be a little starstruck just being in the same room as Dr. Jillian Ramsay, after her extensive media appearance post-Pope Lick Monster. Humanity, as a whole, when faced with the revelation that everything they’d ever feared was lurking in the darkness actually existed …well, they hadn’t handled it well. If “not handling well” could aptly summarize mass-scale protests, petitions, and woefully inaccurate social media posts.

Dr. Ramsay had gone on the talk show circuit, explaining in detail how absolutely normal the lives of most magique were and that there was nothing to fear from them. She’d also explained to Congress that attempting to ask magique to sign up with a national registry or channel their powers for the use of the federal government set a record for history’s most asinine suggestions. She’d become a social media sensation, the subject of many snarky but appreciative memes and had been nominated for a People’s Choice Award.

Between Jillian’s presence and the crowded room, Lia had to raise what psychic shield she possessed to protect her from all the emotions bouncing around the room. Alex may have been the executive director, but Jillian and Sonja were clearly in charge. Lines of steely gray respect linked to them from nearly every person in the room. And those that didn’t respect them at least feared them a little bit, which seemed appropriate. Sonja was obviously smitten with a man who looked quite a bit like Jon, if the rosy pink tendrils of adoration were any indication. Everybody in the room was sending waves of tangerine resentment towards the redheaded guy. But most people seemed to see Ivy as harmless, so Lia would give her a chance. Zed was absolutely madly in love with a gorgeous brunette, but Lia didn’t need her gift to see that. The mayor had rushed into the room and kissed her like he had been away on a holy quest for years.

“Lia! This is my Dani,” Zed had said proudly. “Dani, this is Lia Doe from New Ground. She’s very nice and I think she needs friends. She seems sort of lonely.”

Lia’s jaw dropped, despite Zed’s earnest tone. Dani’s hand moved from her slight baby bump to cover her face. “Zed, honey, this is one of those things you don’t say in front of other people.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Lia said, smiling as if her cheeks weren’t flushed with embarrassment. “I can always use more friends.”

Alex rapped his knuckles lightly on the conference table, which was piled high with offerings from Bathtilda’s. “All right, everybody, let’s take our seats. Help yourselves to pie.”

Alex ran a tight meeting schedule and Lia was able to just relax into hearing the others speak and take notes. Adam McTeague bragged for fifteen minutes about his efforts to help the grocery store establish three delivery vehicles and an ordering app, both to help busy-slash-homebound locals and keep the store from being over-run with shoppers. And every other day, one of those vehicles served as a “pop up store” on the town square so people could just grab essentials they needed on the go.

There was some concern about tourists wandering around the bayou unsupervised, which wasn’t safe considering some of the less socialized residents. (There was a specific mention of a wild hippocampus named Melvin.) The League was taking architectural proposals for an official tourist center, in the hopes that giving people a central location to gather would prevent unsupervised explorations. Will Carmody, who turned out to be Jon’s brother and the town doctor, gave a report on the merits of building a hospital versus expanding the tiny clinic. Despite the diverse personalities, this group seemed to work well together towards their common purpose, which gave her hope. Generally, when people kept the end goal in mind, it made them a little easier to work with for Lia.

But in every group, there is an exception. As the League’s recently hired head engineer, Hank Rossum gave a report on the League’s efforts to expand the town’s overwhelmed infrastructure, a booming voice announced from the end of the table, “I don’t like it.”

Lia’s head turned toward the far end of the table, where an older man was surrounded by a haze of red-orange irritation from the very precise flat-top of his salt-and-pepper hair to his feet. His name tag read “Burt Bremmer, PhD. Applied Physics.”

“Seems like a lot of changes to make for people who probably won’t stick around long enough to enjoy them,” Bremmer sniffed, his gray moustache twitching. “These newcomers are going to move out once they realize how remote it is. And then we’re gonna be left with a bunch of empty storefronts and buildings. That’s not exactly gonna help your property values. You’re creating your own recession, Mr. Mayor.”

“You’re hardly well-versed in economic development, Burt,” Adam shot back.

“But I’m well-versed in physics. Newton’s Third Law of Motion. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I don’t think you’re going to like the reactions all these changes are going to create,” Burt responded.

“Which is why we’re being deliberate and thoughtful every step of the way,” Zed told him, all of the warmth and charm removed from his voice. “We didn’t just invite the League into our town without thinking it through. And we’re not making these changes willy-nilly, either.”

Alex added, “While we appreciate your opinion, Dr. Bremmer, it would be a lot more helpful to come up with alternative suggestions.”

Bremmer nodded, “I’ll be ready next meeting.”

Lia couldn’t decide whether it was in her best interest to skip the next meeting, or give the most outlandish presentation possible about the many, many benefits of the new apartment complex. While Alex moved the meeting along, Lia’s mind wandered. Maybe it was the pie on the table that made her think back to Bathtilda’s. The cinnamon cream pie had been downright addictive, not just because it tasted warm, spicy and smooth, like everything that could mean home. Eating it, she felt calmer, stronger, more focused. She didn’t feel desperate to fit as much relaxation into her Sunday because she knew she would be right back to work the next day. She just felt … better. And despite the warm looks Alex was giving her from his end of the table, her mind wandered to Jon and how she’d surprised herself by seeking him out at the restaurant.

Normally, she kept her own company in her rare free time. But just like the pie, Jon was an unexpected delight. He was charming in an honest, unpretentious way that she wanted to drink in like air. He made her laugh, not just polite cocktail party titters, but sincere belly laughs. And maybe it was a little narcissistic, but she loved the way he reacted to her. All she could see were these peach-toned lines of amusement and appreciation radiating off of him. And yes, she could see streaks of red lust running through that haze when she’d made her unintentionally sensual pie responses. But it was layered under everything else to the point that she felt like she could trust this man.

Since she’d given him her business card, she was experiencing the anxious adolescent urge to check her phone every few minutes … which was hard to do while sitting here in this meeting because it would come across as rude. Relationships were something she just didn’t have time for, and she’d always been OK with that. She didn’t stay anywhere long enough to date. She met all sorts of interesting people. She just didn’t have sex with them. She just didn’t want the messy hassles of intimacy, emotional or physical, when she was going to be moving within a few months. Also, she’d learned her lesson when she’d had to change her cell phone number twice in a year, and then there was that guy who tried to follow her because he was sure he could find “some kind of job” when she moved to Anchorage. And that was after she’d assured him she had no plans to continue dating him. To add insult to injury, in her experience, the sex hadn’t been worth it. This was probably why she spent so much time running in the woods… from her frustration.

When had she started wanting more? Was it when she met Jon? She’d only talked to the man a handful of times and yet, here she was, thinking about him in a work meeting instead of her actual work. She loved her work and somehow, she was starting to think maybe that wasn’t all there was to life. Was this a sign of growth or going crazy? Or was it just Jon and his charms barreling down the careful boundaries she normally set for herself? She’d meant it when she’d called the pie meeting a date. Then the moment he’d told her that it wasn’t a date, she’d felt her heart give way with disappointment and then warmth when he assured her that he had higher standards than an accidental hang-out. And now she was sitting here, dying to check her phone, and not listening to information she probably needed. She would have to ask Sonja for a copy of the meeting notes.

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