Page 34 of Bitter Discord

Zuri nodded, and I could smell her shame.

“Okay, and Marcia?”

“Her father wasnotTezcatlipoca,” Zuri snapped, suddenly angry. “Her father was one of Hasan’s brothers. Adult men, all warriors, adopted and Changed by the first, the original. I don’t know the entire history, but I was five hundred when he introduced the daughter he found in a different world. Neither of us wanted to be friends, but then, our fathers weren’t really friends. They called each other brothers, but there was no love lost between them.”

“And the name she uses for him?”

Zuri rolled her eyes. “It was easy in those days to fool humans into thinking we were gods. He did. It’s what got him killed in the end.”

“By?”

“Our father, clearly. It’s why Marcia refused to heed the call for the war so many years later.”

Only moments later, there was knocking at the door.

“I told you they would arrive quickly,” Zuri said, pulling open the door and revealing a Native American man.

“I am Tokabi, and I do not know who Changed me,” he said.

I quickly introduced myself, but when I said my full name while he walked in, he tilted his head.

“I hear you go by Jacky. You prefer it.”

“I do prefer Jacky, but protocol means I should use my full name for this.”

“No need with me.”

“You can use it if you’d like.”

“Zuri,” my sister said warmly when he looked at her. “Nice to meet you, Tokabi.”

He was quiet as he passed and went toward the meeting room. I felt like he was a gentle soul like Coyotl seemed to be. Before we could close the door, an envoy drove up and parked. First out was a Black woman wearing a crisp business suit. She ignored the others as she came to us.

“Marnar, daughter of No One,” she said. She screamed businesswoman, here to talk and work.

We gave her our names and pointed her in the right direction. She didn’t seem like the type to waste time, so we didn’t waste hers. I didn’t have the chance to ask Zuri what ‘daughter of No One’ meant as the next guest was already waiting.

“Chao, son of Longwei,” the next man said, also dressed professionally, ready to work.

And so it went.

Abraham, son of John, an African American man with a northern accent. Andon, son of Teuta, who seemed like a Viking, not a werecat or a modern man. He had the long blond beard braided and everything. If someone put him in period clothing, he would look exactly what everyone thought of as Viking. Ysabel, daughter of Fernando, was from Spain initially but came over during colonization. Roland, son of Serevina was French and greeted Zuri with a memory from the war eight hundred years ago, making them both laugh. Elissa, daughter of Rahotep, was Phoenician, Zuri told me as she left our sight. One of the old ones.

“You know, I thought there weren’t many old werecats left,” I said, realizing we had a few of them.

“There aren’t many,” she confirmed. “But… well, I guess it depends on what you mean by old. Under one thousand isn’t old. Roland is about Niko and Davor’s age. I believe they were friends for some time. Well, Roland and Davor were friends, that I can say for certain.” Zuri checked the time. “Five minutes until we’re due to start. We should head down and make sure none of them have killed each other yet.”

“We had fourteen RSVPs, but only thirteen are here,” I pointed out. “Not that half of them put their names on the RSVP.”

“Werecats can be like that,” Zuri said, smiling a little. “Very private, as you know.”

“Yeah, well.”

A truck slowly pulled up. It joined the long double line of cars down the drive of the mansion, and a normal-looking man got out, reminding me a bit of Everett. I was glad for another seemingly normal person. He was dressed casually, average height, but well built. His green eyes were human, and he seemed all around very easy to talk to.

“Mason, son of Amanatori.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re the last one we’ve been waiting for. Come inside.” I held the door. “I’m Jacqueline, daughter of Hasan. This is my sister, Zuri, daughter of Hasan.”

---