community.
He was a Felinthrope, but unlike most of the cat community, he embraced all the shifting cultures. It was important to have someone like him around who could bridge the various animosities shifters collected like wines in a cellar—they kept them cold, buried, and in the dark until it was time to open them up and start the party.
There were a few people like Peter, and the rest of the band, who helped everyone. It was a turbulent time for the supernatural community, and Tabby couldn’t wait for the seventies to be over. Vampires were on the move, slaughtering everyone they could.
It wasn’t abnormal in and of itself. Vampires tended to make bids for world domination as often as most people sneezed. In fact, it seemed to just be a part of their genetic makeup. Wake up, stretch, have your morning cup—A, B, AB or O—and embark on a campaign for conquest of the globe. It was in their blood.
The angel community had all but disappeared, rumored to have lost a major offensive against the vampires, whereas the fey had all vanished eight years ago at Woodstock. Mages, well, everyone knew that the last of the public mages, Benjamin Franklin, had died almost two hundred years previously. What was left, rumored to be a dozen or so, all kept to themselves.
So now, it was the shifters trying to stay alive against the vampires. Tabby knew that it wasn’t a full scale war, thankfully. The various factions acted more like gangs, roving bases of power snagging what they could while trying to avoid detection by mortals.
There were others, like the Anubians, Zombies, and the Anans who mostly stuck to themselves. For now. If the shifters lost to the vampires, it would only be a matter of time before the other races were forced into conflict.
Tabby shook her head. Let the band deal with it. They already had two Anans—scions of Anansi—a Felinthrope, and an Anubian working to counter the moves of the vampire courts, and they were good at it. She had more than enough on her hands taking care of the orphaned puppy, Andrew.
She reached over and tousled his sandy blond hair. “Hey Kiddo, you hungry?”
Andrew solemnly nodded again. “Yef, Ta-ey.”
She smiled at him as she stood up. “Well then, let’s see what there is here to eat, okay?”
Andrew pointed toward the opposite side of the train from the band’s practice car. “Wellf’ fwend faid that way!” He seemed very proud of knowing where the food was and Tabby bent down to pick him up, her long red hair falling between them.
She scooped the toddler up, giving him a tight hug as she held him. “Thank you, Andrew. I’m very proud you remembered the directions.” She started walking to the end of the sleeper car they were in, realizing for the first time that the train car was set up like a studio apartment, with everything set up as one large living quarter. “Let’s get some grub in you.”
Andrew pulled back a little from the hug so that he could see her face clearly, then gave her a big grin and thumbs up.
Moving carefully from car to car, Tabby carried Andrew towards the food car. A hiding space from the hunt, the new home in Denver, was a huge weight off her shoulders. It almost felt as though she could feel the weight of fear lifting as mile by mile passed on the tracks. A storm was coming, but she had found refuge from it, temporary and false though it might be.
As she slid open the final door, Andrew’s words, Wells’ friend clicked home. Her benefactor, her friend, was nowhere to be seen. The lone occupant of the dining car was a well-muscled, but still reedy looking man. He had the look about him of a Viking warrior, only a miniature version.
He looked up and smiled. “Hello Tabitha. Glad to see you are finally awake.”
Tabitha couldn’t help but feel that his tone was mocking. “Who the hell are you?” She defensively tightened her arms around Andrew.
“I’m your new bodyguard. Wells had a … bigger, and previous, commitment
He was a Felinthrope, but unlike most of the cat community, he embraced all the shifting cultures. It was important to have someone like him around who could bridge the various animosities shifters collected like wines in a cellar—they kept them cold, buried, and in the dark until it was time to open them up and start the party.
There were a few people like Peter, and the rest of the band, who helped everyone. It was a turbulent time for the supernatural community, and Tabby couldn’t wait for the seventies to be over. Vampires were on the move, slaughtering everyone they could.
It wasn’t abnormal in and of itself. Vampires tended to make bids for world domination as often as most people sneezed. In fact, it seemed to just be a part of their genetic makeup. Wake up, stretch, have your morning cup—A, B, AB or O—and embark on a campaign for conquest of the globe. It was in their blood.
The angel community had all but disappeared, rumored to have lost a major offensive against the vampires, whereas the fey had all vanished eight years ago at Woodstock. Mages, well, everyone knew that the last of the public mages, Benjamin Franklin, had died almost two hundred years previously. What was left, rumored to be a dozen or so, all kept to themselves.
So now, it was the shifters trying to stay alive against the vampires. Tabby knew that it wasn’t a full scale war, thankfully. The various factions acted more like gangs, roving bases of power snagging what they could while trying to avoid detection by mortals.
There were others, like the Anubians, Zombies, and the Anans who mostly stuck to themselves. For now. If the shifters lost to the vampires, it would only be a matter of time before the other races were forced into conflict.
Tabby shook her head. Let the band deal with it. They already had two Anans—scions of Anansi—a Felinthrope, and an Anubian working to counter the moves of the vampire courts, and they were good at it. She had more than enough on her hands taking care of the orphaned puppy, Andrew.
She reached over and tousled his sandy blond hair. “Hey Kiddo, you hungry?”
Andrew solemnly nodded again. “Yef, Ta-ey.”
She smiled at him as she stood up. “Well then, let’s see what there is here to eat, okay?”
Andrew pointed toward the opposite side of the train from the band’s practice car. “Wellf’ fwend faid that way!” He seemed very proud of knowing where the food was and Tabby bent down to pick him up, her long red hair falling between them.
She scooped the toddler up, giving him a tight hug as she held him. “Thank you, Andrew. I’m very proud you remembered the directions.” She started walking to the end of the sleeper car they were in, realizing for the first time that the train car was set up like a studio apartment, with everything set up as one large living quarter. “Let’s get some grub in you.”
Andrew pulled back a little from the hug so that he could see her face clearly, then gave her a big grin and thumbs up.
Moving carefully from car to car, Tabby carried Andrew towards the food car. A hiding space from the hunt, the new home in Denver, was a huge weight off her shoulders. It almost felt as though she could feel the weight of fear lifting as mile by mile passed on the tracks. A storm was coming, but she had found refuge from it, temporary and false though it might be.
As she slid open the final door, Andrew’s words, Wells’ friend clicked home. Her benefactor, her friend, was nowhere to be seen. The lone occupant of the dining car was a well-muscled, but still reedy looking man. He had the look about him of a Viking warrior, only a miniature version.
He looked up and smiled. “Hello Tabitha. Glad to see you are finally awake.”
Tabitha couldn’t help but feel that his tone was mocking. “Who the hell are you?” She defensively tightened her arms around Andrew.
“I’m your new bodyguard. Wells had a … bigger, and previous, commitment
Similar Books
