Page 10 of Bred Mate
“Alright, enough with the puns,” I say, extending my hand as we start driving. It’s good to be underway again. Makes me feel peaceful to have the road passing under the wheels of my car. I’ve been in New Orleans a little too long. I’ve been in that big house, trying to fill it with my presence and being far too uncivilized to do anything besides make a mess. Living in my father’s home feels like being five years old and trying to wear his shoes. It’s all too big, too fancy, and just not me. This wilder area feels more natural.
My brother and I used to hunt together, before sibling rivalry got too intense and Orion had us split up. I’ve spent the last three years doing the things the pack needs done, the things that nobody wants to do, and nobody wants to admit they’d ask anyone to do. Human families have black sheep. That’d be me.
Ellie slides a stick of jerky into my hand. I shove it into my mouth. There’s not enough there to even begin to sate my hunger, but the flavor of meat entertains my taste buds.
I never thought I’d take a mate, and I never really planned to have a family, but I guess when you meet the right girl, you change all your plans at once.
I’ve never felt happy before, I realize, as contentment settles over me. I like happy. I might try for more of it.
Ellie
They’ve already started destroying the forest when we arrive. I don’t know what you call the big creatures that are much, much worse than bulldozers. There are big spinning blades on the front on them that can turn a tree into wood chips in minutes. It’s so fucked.
“Stop! Stop!” I jump out of the car and run toward the woods to try to stop them from going any further.
Karl grabs me by the waist, swings me up off the ground, and tosses me out of the way as easily as he would pick up a bag of groceries. “Get out of the way,” he says.
“They’re already cutting the trees down! We’re too late!”
“We are not too late,” he says. “We are right on time.”
“Buddy, get your woman the hell out of my way,” the machine driver calls out.
Karl strides up to the machine, hauls the door open, and pulls the driver out of it, yanking him out of the protection of the cabin. The man is in his forties, wearing plaid and hi-vis, and a hard hat that tumbles onto the ground to reveal a bald pate.
“This isn’t your territory,” he says. “It’s mine, and you’re going to get the hell out of here right fucking now, or this is going to get bloody. I promise you that.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” He looks at Karl, so fucking stupid and so fucking confused.
Sometimes I really hate people. They’re such a waste. The very notion of them is fucking stupid. I have a sudden, strange urge to murder the hell out of the guy. I resist it, just. Killing people should be some kind of a last resort.
“You’re going to take these machines and you’re going to get the hell out of here,” he repeats, because the man he is talking to is very, very stupid.
The men working the machines look at each other, then back at Karl.
“You’re not going to do shit, buddy.”
I really thought he’d do something financially, or maybe politically. I thought he’d make a call. Or take a meeting. I guess the drivers thought the same, because they just look at us with dumb meaty faces that don’t seem to be capable of realizing that their lives are in real danger.
Karl doesn’t say anything else. He’s done talking. Done warning.
His fist makes wet, meaty, crunching contact with the driver’s face. Three others come at him fast. They’re lumbering and they’re angry. They get into the fight, and they lose it. It’s ridiculous, actually, watching it all happen. I thought he might shift to try to get the upper hand, but he doesn’t need to.
Three on one isn’t fair. To them.
Karl is like a wild animal, inside and out. He fights like he’s feral. I suppose all shifters are, deep down, but I’ve never seen anyone do it like this, show it through their human self, wear it on their human face. He said his father hit him with an axe on purpose, and I didn’t believe it when he said it. But now I do.
All four of them are knocked out within three minutes. He’s stopped the machines, no doubt about that. I stand, staring, as he opens up hatches and yanks at bits of machinery, cutting cables and otherwise fucking the things up. They won’t be in operational order for quite a while, I think.
“Problem solved,” he says.
“For today, sure. But the company will send more machines and more men, and you know it. I wanted you to stop the whole operation, not beat up some working men who were just doing their jobs.”
Karl
She’s not satisfied. I did exactly what I said I’d do, and she’s not happy. I’m confused, and more than a little pissed off.
“What did you want me to do? Ask someone nicely not to destroy the forest?”
