A Contemporary Fantasy Novel Series
Shades And Shadows by Natalie J. Case
Series Excerpt
"I think recent events illustrate my point well enough," Councilwoman Bethany Flanders said.
"Are you suggesting that we should be racist and xenophobic?" Anson Lambrecht asked the councilwoman. Alaric touched his father's shoulder in warning.
"Is it racist to defend yourself against murderers?" the councilwoman argued. She bristled and put both hands on the table in front of her. "My husband and several other state assemblymen are drafting a bill that would require all Shades to register so that they can be monitored. All I am suggesting is that we consider a local ordinance to protect our children."
"This is not going well." Alaric thought to his father over their psychic connection.
"Steady," his father replied, his thought warm and familiar.
"While I recognize that your concern is for the children, I fail to see how the proposed ordinance would do anything more than turn our citizens against one another." Alaric looked up at the speaker, caught a little off guard. Townsend Marley was not usually the voice of reason.
Councilwoman Flanders held up a file folder. “We’re talking about people who kill. I got this from Chief Kalin. We have had three bodies found in two weeks, drained of blood, Shade symbols carved into their skin.”
Alaric sat forward, his hand on his father’s shoulder. He hadn’t heard anything about any Shade related deaths. His father’s surprise told Alaric he hadn’t either. “Why is this the first we’re hearing of it?” Anson asked.
She stood a little straighter and lifted her chin defiantly. “The police are afraid that if it came out that we had one of these killers here there would be mass panic.”
“So, because we may or may not have a serial killer who may or may not be a Shade, our logical response is to put anyone who might possibly be a Shade into some ghetto?”
Next to Councilwoman Flanders, a slight man with almost delicate hands cleared his throat and stood. "I believe the point to be made here is that people who are different, who can kill us without a weapon, should be segregated, for the protection of our citizens. I would take it a step further, and include any person with extra-human ability."
Alaric sat back in his chair, his eyes on the newest member of the city council. He was a local minister, the kind that had always made him nervous.
"What exactly do you mean by extra-human, Roth?" Anson asked, crossing his arms. Alaric could feel his concern and outrage at the idea that Roth might mean them.
Alaric did not like the way Roth looked at his father then. "I'm sure you are aware, Councilman, that the Bible counsels us to expel evil. Even now, in this age, there are those among us who receive nefarious powers from the devil and use them to ensnare the godly."
His father actually snorted. "You can't be serious, Reverend. This is a city council, not a church meeting. You've been warned before to leave your religion at the door."
"Three months ago, you would have argued that there was no such thing as a Shade, Councilman." Roth said, an eyebrow lifting. "And yet, here we have found that they do exist and that they are evil. If such an evil being, with powers beyond our own, is real, how can we deny that there are also Witches and other beings that can bring about our destruction?"
"So…what?" Anson asked. "You want to outlaw psychics and herbalists now?"
The corner of Roth's mouth lifted into a sort of half smile. "It would be a start." There was a smugness about him, a sense that he was pleased with Alaric’s father’s objection. But he couldn’t know the truth. For generations, his family had kept their secret, their tribe, like the Shades and others, hidden in plain sight, not out of malice, but for self-preservation.
Anson shook his head. Alaric looked around the council chambers, mentally trying to tally those who would support the ordinance currently under discussion, which would limit the locations where a Shade could legally live. He scanned the surface emotions of the those he could, coming back with a nearly fifty-fifty split with at least one member of the council still very undecided.
He glanced at the clock. There wouldn't be a vote now. The session was nearly over. "I suggest we table this discussion until everyone has had a chance to review the ramifications and legality of what it is being proposed." Councilman Marley said.
Alaric's father nodded. "Seconded."
Harold Mackey, the recording secretary held up a hand. "All in favor?" A chorus of "Ayes" shuffled around the room. "So moved. The allotted time for this session is at an end. Do I have a motion to adjourn?" Several people raised a hand. "Moved and seconded. All in favor?"
No one waited for him to say approved. As one, they all began standing, turning to aides and heading for the door. Alaric's father put a hand on his arm, drawing him to the exit. He put his copy of the proposal in Alaric's hands as they headed for his office. "Get me numbers."
Alaric nodded, holding the door for his father. "Should I tell Mom you're going to be late?"
Anson smiled and nodded. "She knows."
An aide for one of the other councilmen came running toward them. "Turn on the news, right now."
Alaric darted around his father and turned on the television in his office. The screen came to life, instantly filling with flames as a voice tried to relay what was happening.
"We are in downtown Sacramento right now, where a fire is blazing after witnesses say that five men claiming to be the 8th Battalion beat a man and dragged him into this building, where they reportedly set the man on fire."
Alaric sank into the chair, his stomach tightening as his father moved to stand beside him. He could feel the comfort his father was sending his way, but underneath it he could feel his father's own fear.
"We have received footage that is supposedly from the 8th Battalion, a militia group that has taken credit for several attacks across the US. I warn you that this footage is graphic."
The burning building faded and in its place was shaky footage of four men in navy blue from head to toe, ski masks obscuring their faces as they dragged a bloody black man to a column in a dark building where they stood him up and tied him. "We are the 8th Battalion. We are the mighty right hand of God. This is justice." Two of the men doused the man with liquid from gas cans, trailing a puddle away from him. A third man lit the puddle as they all jumped back.
Screams filled the air as the fire raced up the man's body. Alaric looked away from the screen as his hand found the button to turn the screen off.
"That's right here." Alaric said to his father.
"I think it's time to go home, Alaric." Anson said, his hand warm on Alaric's shoulder. "We can work on this tomorrow."
Alaric nodded, standing slowly. "Thanks, Alison."
She nodded. "I thought you should know."
"Tell your mother that the preserves were appreciated." Anson said as Alison started to leave. "And we'll have you over for dinner sometime next week." He shut the door behind her and turned to Alaric. "Perhaps we should call a meeting. Things are starting to get hot."
Alaric nodded. "I'm starting to think that maybe Riley was right." None of them wanted to believe that things would get as bad as Riley had seen them in his premonition, but each day something new happened to make him wonder.
He felt his mother reaching for him, her thoughts warmly caressing against his shields as she checked in to make sure they were okay. He returned the affection as he gathered his things. His father joined the link and for a moment they just shared in the familial bond, before information was relayed and his father reached out for the other members of his clan.
They left the office then, needing no words as they made their way to the car and headed for home. It would be a tense night for all of them.
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