Rhys
I had to hand it to Neil; he knew how to maneuver a car through a thick onslaught of pedestrians without killing anyone, or more importantly, without getting us killed.
Willingly entering Neutral Isle for a werewolf was akin to walking into a CIA black ops facility and asking to be waterboarded. Of course, that's not what its original intent had been. As implied by the name, the island was supposed to be a meeting ground for resolving disputes between packs, a place where pack members could leave behind their rivalries and find common ground.
For a long while, it functioned the way it was intended. In the time of our great grandparents, the island had been the bridge between packs, just as it was a bridge between the two sides of the city. It even catered to blended pack entertainment. Movie houses, dance halls, restaurants—on any day of the week, members from Sury's then five prominent packs could be seen sitting down to a peaceful dinner or dancing the night away.
Apex owed its existence to Neutral Isle. My great-grandparents had met at a multi-day dance competition where contestants had to remain upright and moving on the dance floor to avoid being eliminated. The humans all succumbed to fatigue by day two, and then, one by one the werewolves fell. When my great-grandmother's partner seemed like he was about to collapse, she let him, turning to my great-grandfather instead and offering him her hand.
Without their families' permission, they mated. Apex had formed from their union and the territorial landscape of Sury was forever changed, as was Neutral Isle. The packs my ancestors left behind, instead of embracing the other as kin, became embittered. Small squabbles escalated to assault and murder. Full moons became chaotic in a way the city hadn't seen in fifty years. The incident during our last full moon was like shoplifting bubble gum compared to the carnage that ensued.
From that carnage sprung a contingency of humans who had had enough of werewolf antics. I didn't blame them, but over time, they'd become militant, and just as prone to handling disputes with violence as my own ancestral packs had been. And where did they turn to when they decided there was safety in numbers? It wasn't going to be within any pack's territory.
And so, Neutral Isle, once a hubbub of inter-pack activity, became an anti-werewolf enclave—a place werewolves avoided rather than embraced.
Up until today, I'd counted myself fortunate enough not to have a reason to go there. Detective Kim never complained about coming to us when necessary. Sitting in the backseat of Simone's Lexus, I watched as a growing crowd of outraged humans surrounded the Office of Werewolf Affairs, carrying signs with slogans such as, "Werewolves Lie, People Die," and "Human Rights First." The whole situation was irksome. I already knew what these people thought of us. I didn't need to be made to come here and have it shoved in my face.
"It really is bad news for all of us," Calla said, her face staring out anxiously into the crowd as Neil wove through it, aiming for the parking garage below the office building that would grant us safe passage inside.
"What?" I asked her.
"The signs. Only a few call out Apex specifically. Most of them focus on hating all of us. Look at that one." She pointed at a sign being held by a college aged woman with a nose ring and thick lines of eyeliner circling her eyes like an old timey bandit. "'The only good Werewolf is a rug.' Yikes."
"Neutral territory people are radicalized morons on the fringes of society," I said, even though the masses accumulated here seemed to indicate otherwise. "Don't let it get to you."
"'Taxidermists for Werewolves,'" she read from another sign. "'Shoot 'em and Stuff 'em.'"
"Give it a few days. Things will calm down. People will find a new show to binge, and they'll lose interest in standing on the street holding up signs that look like their six-year-old made them."
"You're underestimating humanity's sense of justice. They don't forget as easily as you want them to." She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. "I have my work cut out for me, don't I?"
I took a moment to turn inward as well, ignoring the throngs of protestors in favor of the more favorable aesthetic gracing the inside of her mother's car. This was neither the time nor the place to fixate on the way Calla's skirt had been pushed partway up her thigh as she shifted in her seat. It was hard to ignore how close she was, though, how close that bare leg was and where that bare leg led... I could almost forget I was on Neutral Isle surrounded by people who wanted to shoot me and turn my pelt into living room décor.
"We'll be clear in a minute," Neil said to us over the car's intercom system from behind the soundproof glass dividing the front and back seats.
Police stood in front of concrete barricades, creating a clear pathway into the garage. Once we were inside, it was as though the crowds didn't exist. The vacuum of sound steadied my nerves. This was fine. I was fine.
Detective Kim, flanked by several armed OWA officers met us at the elevator doors. "Rhys, good to see you." He grabbed my hand, and I pulled him in for a bro hug.
"Dev, my man. How's it going?"
"Living the dream." He pulled back and turned to Calla, his body language going from surfer dude to Marine recruiter in less than two seconds. "Miss Bardot."
"Detective Kim. Shall we wait for the other two or head up now?"
By the other two, I took it to mean she still expected my brothers to roll into the parking lot. Time to disabuse her of her naivety. "About that. They're not coming."
"What?" Calla's face turned a shade of crimson that managed to break through her foundation. "You told me they were meeting us here."
"Sure. They were, for like, two seconds. And then they backed out."
"Unbelievable. Did you know this the whole way here?"
As fun as it was to witness her frustration, the anger radiating from her made me want to break my confident stance and step back. Alarmed that I would have that thought, I strode towards her instead. Challenging, affirming my position, towering. "Neutral Isle smells like onions and it's like, the worst place in the world. No offense," I nodded to Dev. "But it really does suck. You're lucky you convinced me to show up. I can relay to them any information we receive here. I promise."
"That'll be my job. Let's get on with it." Calla eyed me up and down before heading for the elevator, grumbling about entitlement and daddy's boys.
Upstairs, Calla explained to Dev that she wanted his take on the tragic events of the Full Moon.
"Be direct even if what you need to say would be difficult for certain ears," she told him. "Rhys absolutely must hear it all."
Dev gave her a stare cold enough to freeze a turkey. "Are you implying that I'd hold something back to spare him?"
"Maybe. You two are awfully chummy. It's like you were in the same fraternity."
"God knows I'd never have any sort of personal relationship with a werewolf from a prominent family, Calla." Sarcasm dripped from him like a candle with an out-of-control flame. "What could you be thinking?"
I glanced back and forth between them. What had begun as an unpleasant outing had just turned quite amusing. And, if I was reading this right, totally scandalous. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing," they both said at once, which of course meant something was absolutely going on.
"Fine then. Let's hear what Detective Kim has to say. How bad are things, for real? Don't go easy on me or you'll give Calla an aneurysm."
"Well, they're not good, Rhys. As in, the Sury City Council is considering bringing to vote a revocation of werewolf rights. And you've seen the way the people are worked up. It isn't just Neutral Isle citizens. A lot of those protestors are crossing the bridge to make their opinions known. Even if the council can be persuaded to back off their vote, there's talk of a referendum. If a public vote comes up, I can't say which way it will go."
"Back it up," Calla said. "The Sury City Council is really considering revoking our rights? All our rights? Even Crown's? We were the ones wronged."
"That hardly matters," Dev said, "As far as humans are concerned, if they believe one werewolf can kill an innocent, then they'll believe any werewolf can."
"Killing humans is easy. Of course, we can kill them. That doesn't mean we do," I told him, not at all helpfully.
"Jesus, Rhys." Calla shook her head.
"What? It's true! We show incredible self-restraint every full moon. We only go after the designated humans we're allowed to kill and okay, someone slipped up this one time. But it wasn't that he killed indiscriminately. It had to be a case of mistaken identity."
"And you know this for certain because..." Dev asked.
"Because no one from Apex would do something so reckless."
Calla sighed and rolled her eyes. "I can't figure out if you really believe that."
"Who do you think would, Calla? Apex's reputation is everything to us. We're the most powerful pact Sury has ever known—no offense."
"When you keep having to say, 'no offense' it's usually because you know you're saying offensive things and you just don't care."
"I know how sensitive Crown werewolves are about their...struggles as a pack. I'm not trying to rub salt in your wounds."
Her skin resumed that same unnatural shade it had back in the parking garage.
"Can we all take a deep breath?" Dev asked. "I personally think it's a terrible idea to have the two of you working together. But I don't have control over that, so I say we make the best of a terrible situation. Calla, you should meet with the council, preferably on your own. Use your charms, let them know you've got a handle on Apex."
"A handle on us?" I scoffed. "I hardly think—"
"Shut it, Rhys," Calla said. "Yes, I agree, that's a great idea."
"We should also have a training session with the werewolves of Apex and city officers. We've done so in the past, but have fallen away from it in recent years, budget cuts and all. Our efforts should be well publicized. Rhys, you still have your contact at the Sury Daily?"
"Yes."
"Use it. Also, it's not my place to push this point, Calla, but in my opinion, you should organize a press conference—as soon as possible but not until you've convinced the Rawlings brothers to stand there and look pretty and say the right things. And when I say, 'the right things,'" he gave me a pointed look. "I mean that you need to be clear that you will find the guilty party and make sure they are held accountable. Is that clear?"
I took a deep breath, held it, then released it. Admitting a weakness in our pack to the public sounded like a terrible idea to me. "Fine. I guess."
"You guess?" Dev shook his head. "Calla, you better take the lead on it. Say things that reassure people."
"Do you think this will work?" Calla asked.
"I hope so. If you can't get the city back on your side in time for Lunaris, we're going to have to cancel."
"Cancel? Are you serious?" Lunaris was the biggest international event for werewolves. Humans enjoyed it as well and this year's games were set to give the packs of Sury a worldwide audience. It was Apex's time to shine, not be labeled the cause of the tournament's failure.
"I'm surprised you're helping us at all," Calla said to Dev. "Given what's happened, I thought maybe you'd push for what the council is thinking of doing."
He stared at her for a good long while before responding. "Maybe you'd leave without a fight. You've done that before."
My ears perked up again. Exactly what was he preferring to?
"But would the rest of Crown just walk out of Sury if they were ordered to? Would Apex?"
"Hell no," I said. "This is our home. We'd fight for it."
"You see?" He smiled sadly. "I just want to find a peaceful resolution. By and large, the werewolf presence here is a net gain for Sury and has been ever since regulated werewolf vigilantism was made legal. Not to mention the revenue the city is about to make during Lunaris. But if public opinion continues to sway..."
"It won't," I assured him.
"And the city does decide to undo all the werewolf rights laws enacted over the last fifty years..."
"They won't," I insisted.
"They might," Calla said. "And if that happens, there's going to be a war."