Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “I doubt it.” I glanced at my shoulder bag and wondered if I should phone him. No one liked calling the I.S. on some loud weekday fun, but it was becoming obvious that this wasn’t a companionable, laid-back get-together. There were three factions now, taunting one another as they slowly closed ranks while more shifted to fur. A territorial spat? I wondered. More than unusual.

            Everyone in Cincy knew where they were in the grand scheme of things. Tattoos showed pack affiliation, and clothes and shades of tidiness did the rest. Graffiti marked territories, but everyone could freely go wherever they wanted. This show of aggression was downright odd, and my lips parted when, with a harsh bark and a yelp, two Weres rolled on the grass, snapping at ears and tails.

            “I’m calling David.” I reached for my phone. It could be an alpha challenge, but there were at least five packs out there now, and alpha challenges were generally handled in private.

            “That’s not a pack,” Al said. “They are all alphas. Male and female.”

            “They can’t be all alphas,” I protested. Alphas never got together like this, and not without their packs behind them. Head down, I scrolled for David’s number. “This is really weird. Why would Cincinnati’s alphas cause trouble? Everyone is happy with where things sit.” I hesitated, listening to my phone ring.

            “You’ve reached Hue’s phone,” David’s recorded voice said, and I grimaced. “If this is an emergency, please contact Were Insurance directly.”

            “Voice mail,” I muttered. Ending the call, I hit the icon to connect again. “Maybe I should call Trent. He always knows what’s going on.”

            Al’s lip twitched, his stiff attitude a clear indication that he thought I could do better than an elf who had more money than God. “Everyone would be happier if you would stop punishing us by dating an elf,” he said, and my brow furrowed.

            Everyone? “If I wanted to punish you, I’d simply marry the man.”

            Al jerked his attention from the gathered Weres, horrified. “You wouldn’t. . . .”

            David’s phone was still ringing, tied up with dealing with my previous call. “Seriously?” I scoffed, though a niggling desire remained. “I’m not about to live out in the middle of that planned forest of his. Now, once he gets into his downtown apartment?” I flashed Al a smile, enjoying seeing him sweat. But in all honesty, he had nothing to worry about. Oh, I loved Trent and would do ugly things if anyone hurt him, but I wasn’t ready to be “mom” to two toddlers—as sweet, demanding, spoiled, and absolutely perfect as they were.

            “Relax,” I said as I gave up and closed my phone out. When David saw that I called twice, he’d get back to me. Contacting Were Insurance would only dump me into a phone maze of frustration. “Trent won’t move until his apartment is finished. He’s putting in a lot of safeguards, and he wants to spell them himself. The pool, too, is going to take time. The weight is an issue.”

            “Water abhors being forty-nine stories up.” His gaze hard on the grassy field, Al snatched his cane in an elegant motion. “Oh, how grand,” he drawled sarcastically. “The I.S.”

            I sat where I was, uneasy as the Weres, too, noticed the two Inderland Security cars now idling at the far end of the park. No one got out, and they didn’t even turn on their blue and gold lights. The agents were wisely giving the Weres time to disperse. Gut tightening, I turned to the three black-and-whites pulling into the small lot behind us. Two-ways popped, and the tight, terse voice of dispatch made my pulse quicken.

            But instead of scattering, the Weres dropped their squabble, banding together to taunt the agents: Weres in fur in the front, Weres in tees and jeans behind.

            My thoughts went to Jenks, and a feeling of misgiving trickled through me for having told him to stay home. I could have used some skilled aerial recon. Bis? Where the devil are you?

            “This is really odd,” I whispered as the Weres became more confident, howling their defiance as the I.S. turned their lights on, and my lips parted as more stripped down in the come-and-go flashes and Wered. Fast. Too fast to be without a great deal of pain.

            “Did you see that?” I said as I inched closer to Al, and the cruisers behind us emptied out. “That woman shifted in like fifteen seconds.”

            “Yes-s-s-s.” Al’s brow furrowed. “David must be down there. You cannot shift that fast without the aid of the focus.”