Chapter 8 - The Plan

Carick alternated his glare between Flint and Jameson. “You’ve known of a new switch since last night and did not inform me?”

Jameson shook his head “Check your texts.”

Carick snatched his phone from his pocket and swiped his finger over the screen, then began scrolling down through what looked like a messaging app. Holy shit, Flint thought as Carick’s thumb continued to scroll, how many people is he talking to on that thing? Didn’t he just get here? Just learn to use it? Carick stopped scrolling, read something, then spoked to Jameson “My mistake, Keeper. Where is she?”

Jameson shook his head. “At a motel between here and Shady Pines. We only first spotted her twelve hours ago and haven’t approached her yet.”

Carick’s head was shaking before Jameson had finished his sentence. “Why not? It makes no sense. This is where she belongs.”

At that Cora sat up, pushing herself to the edge of the barstool and facing Carick directly. “Bullshit, Carick. If she’s really a switch then it’s just a matter of time, and if you can afford to nap for a hundred and fifty years then you can damn well wait a few days while we think of a way to ease her into the crazy house.”

Cora nodded once, sharply, like she was happy to have her sass back, and like she’d pulled it off perfectly. All eyes on her, she kissed Jameson and hopped off her stool. “Later shifters, I gotta go. Lynessa and I are finally getting in some parkour practice.”

Dario stood also, an unreadable expression on his face. Nobody but Flint seemed to notice as the male shook his head and retook his seat, his eyes tracking Cora up the stairs with a confused look.

The upstairs door closed behind her. Jameson, his head still turned halfway in that direction, spoke as if to himself. “Nervous as hell letting her out of my sight.” He turned to Carick, his forehead wrinkled in question over his sharp, ice-blue eyes. “How did they handle it in the old days?”

Carick fixed Jameson with a piercing look, his black eyes as deep as pools. “Shifters stayed so close to switches, she had but to whisper and a guardian was at her side.”

Jameson shook his head. So much of this wouldn’t work in modern life. “But she’s safe in daylight, right?”

Carick hedged. “Mostly.”

“What?” Jameson’s tone was sharp.

Carick paced while he explained. “The strongest vampires with the purest blood, the Fatherborne can survive the sunlight without issue. It inhibits their phazing, but not much else. There were fewer than ten living when last I slept. Surely fewer by now. Those with blood less pure than the Fatherborne can survive sunlight as well, though it vexes them in small ways, and cannot phaze at all.”

Jameson stared at Carick for a moment, then jumped to his feet and ran up the stairs, calling Cora’s name.

“Fatherborne,” Flint growled. “Everyone needs to know what that is.” He knew.

Carick addressed the room. “A vampire with a streak of white in a head of black hair. They require the most powerful of switches to best them. In the beginning only Blood Coven could do it at all, before it was discovered how powerful a switch’s Resonant made her.”

The stairway door opened and Jameson came down the stairs, another basket of muffins in his hands. Flint’s mouth watered. Jameson plucked one from inside and juggled it as he set the basket on the bar. “Cora says I need more fiber, ‘cause I must be full of shit if I think she’s going to stay home all day, or be okay with me tagging along everywhere she goes. She took her knife and her phone with her.”

Carick shook his head. “Still tempting fate, Keeper? Switches should always have a guard.”

Jameson swallowed a mouthful of muffin, his face set. “Cora would make me her next vampire dummy if I tried. But I’ll think of something.”

Carick nodded and started the video again.

Screams and shuffling clothes and shouts and bodies jostling for safety. A green glow that Flint knew only shifters could see appeared on the edge of the screen, but the person holding the phone had it focused on the snarling mountain lion.

“Clever, who is this?”

Dario pointed out Riot. Carick nodded at him.

Dario spoke up from the bar. “Wait, how’d you do that? You were with us at Bunn’s house, then you beat Jameson to the fairgrounds.”

Flint’s head shot up to catch Riot’s response, but the lean, inked-up male gave a bored shrug of his shoulders and mumbled one word: “Shortcut.”

Carick’s booming voice filled the room then, the way it did when he wanted to guarantee he got their attention. “It was the last smart thing any of you did until the Keeper showed up. Switches must hunt and Prowls must be satisfied. A Prowl is an evolutionary advantage switches acquired over time, for many reasons. It is natural, you cannot stop it.”

Carick stalked closer to the television, pointing to Riot in his puma form. “You shifters are the only thing providing structure and limitations to the switches and their bloodlust. That is what you evolved to do. If switches are not contained, it will spill out and damage the very innocents we are trying to save. You must engage a switch when an Undoing is finished. Do not allow her to walk away until her energy is spent. Lives depend upon it.”

Bryce’s smile was back. “It sounds like you’re saying throw her over your shoulder, get your hand between her legs, and don’t let up until she’s stopped trying to stab you?” Bryce was joking, but Flint could hear the realness in his voice. That couldn’t possibly be what Carick meant.

Jameson spoke, almost to himself, his voice soft. “Then hold on tight, because that’s when shit gets crazy.”

A round of nervous laughter passed through the room, including everyone but Carick, who ground his teeth and stared at the floor.

Dario held up a hand. “Hold up. You’re telling me that if Flint over here has a switch he’s been, I don’t know, dating, but then she kills a vampire and he’s not around, that Riot over there should hit that? That’s asking for trouble.”

Flint had a flash of an image of Goldie in Riot’s arms and stood before he knew what he was doing, turning toward the cat. Riot saw him coming and smirked. Flint’s bear roared inside him. “Come on back to sparring, I’ll wipe that smirk off your face.”

The tattooed shifter didn’t like that. Riot came bursting off the wall and right up in Flint’s grill. “Anytime you want to get serious, brother bear.”

A cool hand on Flint’s arm made him aware of Jameson’s pointed look, of the other shifters watching him and Riot, ready to jump in and pull them apart. Dario gave Carick an I-told-you-so look.

Carick’s lip curled. “You modern shifters have your priorities backwards.” He went on, oblivious to the disgruntled looks of the males surrounding him. “There are other options. You could run the switch, or fight her, until her energy is spent. Simply keep her engaged as long as it takes for her to come back to herself.”

Jameson cleared his throat, commanding the room’s attention, meeting each shifter’s eyes in turn as he spoke. “You heard him. Spread the word.” He turned to Carick. “Fight? You don’t mean hurting her?”

Carick shrugged. “Vampire killing requires magical energy that induces a kind of insanity at its strongest. This insanity is what you are protecting the world from. It won’t last forever, once all the vampires are dead and you can assure her there are no more around. If they won’t talk to you, or focus on you, you do what you have to do to get their attention.”

Dario’s stern look was aimed directly at Carick. “I’m not punching a woman, switch or not.”

“Right. Yes.” Affirmatives from other shifters peppered the room. Flint added his.

Shiloh shifted the topic, seeming bored with it, or like she would see what happened in the moment. “So with this new switch, or any others we find, what the hell do we do? How do we convince them to come and hang with the Sleepy Samurai and his merry band of hunters?” She gestured at Carick, then at other males in turn. “Flint’s got the hugeness, Bryce is goofy and I’m sure some switches have to like that, Dario’s got the smile, Riot’s the bad boy catnip, what about me? Am I supposed to pimp these guys out or something?”

Dario choked on a laugh, a good-natured grin on his face. “Jesus, Shiloh.”

“What?” She shot back, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Bet you fifty bucks I would have switches lined up the block.”

Bryce piped up before Dario could take the wager. “What about Resonants?”

“Good point,” Carick said. “Anyone collected or made anything that could be a weapon lately? Fate directs shifters in the acquisition of Resonants, and they’re a surefire way of enticing switches.”

Silence bounced off the walls. A few shifters shuffled their feet, and Flint kept his eyes firmly on his size fourteens. He and Bryce had talked about this before. Bryce didn’t think he had anything, and the only thing Flint thought he had that could pass for a Resonant, it just didn’t make any damn sense. And no way was he going to test the theory by walking around everywhere with cutlery in his pocket. What kind of a crazy bear would do that?

But Carick had already moved on. “Do whatever it takes. Any way you have to convince them, use it. We need more switches, that is our primary goal. You must bring this switch in.”

Jameson broke in. “That’s a good way to get all of us arrested.”

Dario downed the rest of his water and stood. “I’ve got to head out. Missing person case I’m working on.”

Since Flint's adoptive parents owned the Bear Claw Diner he knew who the missing person was. One of the waitresses.

“What about the vampire bones?” Carick asked. Some old guy’s dog had found Garner’s bones in the woods behind the fairgrounds, but they looked old. Ancient. Because they were.

“It’ll be weeks before forensics comes back with anything. I’ll let you know.” Dario headed out.

Flint watched the meeting break up then went into his room and crawled into bed to recover from the all-nighter he’d just pulled.