Right now, even that pissed me off. Suddenly, it was as if nothing in my world was right, and yet he managed to stand there continuing to look sympathetic—even as he added to the stress by assuming that I would be perfectly happy to host his family for a visit.
I dropped my head onto the table, burying it in the crook of my arms. I wasn’t being rational, and I knew it.
“Gloria thinks I need to take some time off while we get settled in with the babies,” I said, my voice coming out muffled.
Kade sat down beside me. “It’s not a terrible idea,” he said. “You do have a lot in your plate right now.”
“How are you so calm?” I asked. “it’s not like this isn’t affecting you, too.”
“I do have the added benefit of not having to worry about being the direct target of a group of evil wolves.”
“Are you absolutely sure of that?” I raised one eyebrow. “Your family seems to suggest that there will be at least a little bit of a target on you—if they’re concerned, then there is a good chance that the wolves, and everyone else who would like to see me gone, are going to lump you in with me too.”
Kade stretched his hands out across the table, reaching for mine. “There is no place I would rather be lumped,” he said, a slight smile working at the side of his mouth.
I shook my head, laughing a little. “Well, then. Come on. Let’s get our lump on, listen to what these werewolf assholes have to say, and go find our missing baby.”
He dropped a kiss on my knuckles, then stood and led me out of the room.
Chapter 34
I CAUGHT FRANK’S LAST name for the first time as the local Alpha finished his blustering and called Frank Boyer onto the stage.
And Frank was slick as any politician I had ever seen. He greeted everyone, called a few of them by name, even though he wasn’t from this area. Everything in the little speech he gave was designed to make sure he was appealing to their sense of community, of the shifter version of family values.
Then he said, “And, as I’m sure many of you know, it’s been a long time since we have faced the threat of a lamia invasion in North Texas.”
“You’re not exactly facing one now, either,” someone called out from the audience.
“Bunch of babies don’t exactly count for an invasion,” another shifter said.
I didn’t recognize the voices, and even in the small crowd, I couldn’t tell who’d spoken out—a wave of gratitude swept through me.
Some of these people, at least, were going to stand up for us.
“But isn’t that something you should be able to decide for yourselves?” Frank said from the front of the room. “Shouldn’t we, as free shifters, have the right to determine if a killer lives and works among us?”
From another point in the room, I heard someone mutter, “Hell, yeah.”
Guess they aren’t all my supporters.
“And that,” Frank said, “is why I am calling a national meeting to convene here next week. We will have a full and open discussion of the issues we face.”
“Will that be before or after your werewolves kidnap all the lamia infants?” Kelly called out from nearby, her hands on her hips as she flipped her dark hair over one shoulder.
You go, girl!
If anyone knew how little threat these juvenile lamias posed, it was Kelly, someone who had taken care of them, fed them, held them, bonded with them.
“I heard about the abduction at the hospital yesterday,” Frank said with contentious glee. “It is a terrible, terrible thing to have happened.” He shook his head as if sad. “Please know that my people would never do something so obviously unlawful.”
No word, I noticed, about it being immoral, too.
He kept talking. “But, while we don’t believe in illegal actions, we do believe in a free and open debate about issues just like these facing our communities. We will stand up for your safety, your rights, and your freedoms. We hope you’ll join us at next week’s Council meeting.” As he finished speaking he looked down at his watch, in a way that caught my attention.
Not that someone giving a speech shouldn’t look at his watch—but when he flicked a glance at one of his other men toward the back of the room, all my senses went on high alert.
Something isn’t right here.
My fingers tightened around Kade’s anxiously.
Janice’s phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it, her face going white.
Before I could even begin to move toward her, my own new phone buzzed at me, too. When I looked down at its text, the words swam in front of my eyes for a moment, refusing to resolve themselves into a message that my mind did not want to accept was there.
NICU under attack.
As soon as I could make any sense at all what I saw, I was already pulling Kade out Janice’s door and toward his truck. But Kade had gotten his own message, too, and didn’t need any encouragement.
I could hear Janice inside saying, “We’ll need to cut this short, folks.”
Kelly followed us outside, but I said, “You stay here and help Janice take care of this.”
Kade nodded. “We’ll get everyone over to the hospital as soon as we can, but please tell Janice she needs to stay here and watch Frank and his group. Whatever they’re doing, it’s underhanded as hell.”
By then we were already in the truck, and Kade was starting the engine. As we pulled out onto the street, I began texting everyone in our small army.
“Eduardo tells me he’s got the Shields keeping the NICU on lockdown,” I told Kade.
“Does it seem odd to you at all that Frank and his goons would attempt another abduction so soon after the first?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Depends on what they
