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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Death in the Shadows - 21. Chapter 21: Conspiring Chairman

“Sheila Weidman?”

Cyrus lowered a box gently onto the kitchen counter. “Yes, that’s what the drop said. Alex left a hefty one last night. He even sent a USB with an audio file.” Opening the package, he unwrapped the ceramic plates and set them into the cabinets as Kaplan sorted the containers in the living room.

Moving into the new condominium, the bear was more than satisfied with the selection. Not as upscale, but the view is better. Top floor with stairway access to the rooftop patio. I think a stone, centered fireplace will be wonderful up there. Inside the condo, the layout was similar to his previous home. Now I have a hallway and two extra rooms. They’ll make wonderful offices. He saw the moving crew bringing in a wide box. “Ah, one of the desks! The center room, gentlemen. An extra hundred goes to the man who puts it together.”

As they carried it away, Kaplan approached with another box. “More kitchen stuff. Alex left a big drop?”

“Later, my pup. We’ll talk business when we’re alone.” He peered into the lycan’s container and chuckled. “Glassware with decals and engraving?”

The smile on Kaplan’s face brightened the room in Cyrus’ eyes. “My mug from graduating from college, and another from high…”

Just as quick as the happiness came, it left. High school. South Dakota again. He’s been bringing up memories lately, and it’s not from the move. Feeling the faint beat of their bond, Cyrus drew Kaplan’s fingers into his own. “Are you sure you want memories like that in your home?”

“Our home,” Kaplan corrected, “and yes. It’s a little sour, but a few things like this remind me how far I’ve come.”

“And they encourage you to shoot further?” The nod was weak, but Cyrus knew his mate was mentally awake. “You’re correct. If they empower you, then they are welcome into our home. Do you use them regularly, or would you rather they be on display?”

“A little bit of both.” Kaplan carried them with care as he set them on the top shelf in the cabinet. “I drink out of it from time to time when I think of home.”

The bear had been hesitant about certain questions, but he could not hold back any longer. “Kaplan? What happened with your family?”

Taking a deep breath, Kaplan leaned against the counter. “They’re still there; in OLCP, as far as I know. We… We haven’t spoken since I was exiled.”

“You were falsely disciplined.”

“It didn’t seem like it at the time.” Kaplan’s face was still. He was fishing out utensils from his box and setting them into a drawer. “I was exiled for appearing gay, so that’s what my parents think as well.”

“They think so little of you?”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen them since.”

Cyrus’ heart broke. “They don’t know—”

Kaplan spun with tears welling. “They don’t know a damned thing.”

“Do you want them to?” The panda was not about to let emotions cool off. “Kaplan, do they even know if you’re still breathing? I do not mean to upset you, but I know what it’s like to not hear from one’s parents. It’s not easy on your soul. I will not tell you how to handle this, but if I could make a suggestion, as your mate…”

He searched in the wolf’s brown eyes. Cyrus opened his arms, inviting Kaplan to come in. Having the little man in his grasp, he had the whole world. He whispered, “I want to see you happy, and I don’t think you’ll be until you have a solid resolution. You helped me reconnect with my family. May I have the pleasure of doing the same?”

The lycan held tightly to Cyrus’ hips. “I don’t know if it’ll be a pleasure.”

“If it gives you closure, any outcome will be a pleasure. I’ll call Alpha Price first thing tomorrow to verify their membership in his pack. Until then, how about a drink?” He grabbed the ceramic cup Kaplan placed and handed it over. “We’ll have to make due with the rum. They haven’t brought in the wine yet.”

As they sipped, Cyrus prodded more from his mate, being careful to not cause another disturbance. Melody and Travis Alvey. How odd… Seems out of place for them to give their son such an interesting name like Kaplan. One of them must have done their research. Heavy faith in Yir and Ceresa, surprisingly. When luck and death come together, one must believe they are impervious to an unfortunate demise. From what Kaplan says, many in the Oglala Lake area followed these two of the Seven devotedly. I never saw the point in following Ceresa’s faith. She will come for us all one day, so there is no sense in delaying the inevitable. Yir, I understand slightly more. Things happen for a reason. Praying for him is almost as chaotic as praying to Terik. Where luck lies, mischief rests in its shadow.

With the major furniture moved in, Cyrus tipped the crew generously and sent them away. “Thank you, gentlemen! Treat your loved ones to dinner tonight.” He closed the door and flashed his eyes at Kaplan. “I know we’ll be dining like kings,” he muttered.

Even with boxes and totes littered throughout the place, it already felt like home. His treasured rug leaned against the living room wall, and Cyrus could not wait to lay it out. It will look perfect there. Some of Kaplan’s artwork goes well with it. “Shall we go out tonight? We haven’t grocery shopped, and I’m peckish for one of those burgers from All Stars.”

Kaplan closed the drawer and set the cardboard box on the floor. “Sounds great. Should we work on the bedroom first? Make sure we have somewhere to sleep tonight?”

“Among other things, my mate,” he purred. “This is our home, and I want to share every square inch with you.” Holding the shorter man, Cyrus pressed his nose behind Kaplan’s ear. “I’ve never been happier.”

“Even happier than our mating night?”

“Yes. Tonight, we start the rest of our lives together. Bedroom first, then kitchen, then offices. Deal?”

Seeing the lycan’s cheekbones rise. “As long as you can keep it in your pants while we put the sheets on the bed.”

“Ah, ah! You’ve been the one instigating, as of late. Maybe we can take a break after organizing the kitchen.”

Admiring the spacious master suite, Cyrus filtered through the crates and found the bedding. “So, Wagner’s drop. Yes, it was filled to the brim with information. He’s been followed for almost a week now, and he’s discovered who it is.”

“Sheila Weidman,” Kaplan answered as he took one side of the fitted sheet. “Do we know who that is?”

“I found out, and it’s quite an interesting plot twist. Honestly, I never expected such a thing. Miss Weidman has had her eye on Harold’s work for a while now.”

“Really?”

Cyrus giggled, staring at his beta. “It’s why I was so hesitant to have a beta travel with me all those years as an auditor.”

As usual, his mate put the pieces together faster than the panda anticipated. “His secretary?”

“It’s surprising, but not at the same time. Alex says Harold was clueless as to the stalkers. Even the man’s pheromones checked out. But this leads to two potential plots. One, Harold ordered Sheila to use external means to follow my enforcer. This would allow Harold to retain the element of surprise, not only to Alex but to himself. It’s brilliant, honestly.”

Kaplan sat on the mattress. “And two? Weidman’s another player in the game?”

“That is the scary option. It either makes her clever, or stupid. To use unknowing humans to follow a lycan.”

The beta raised a finger, then left the room. I’ve seen that look before. He’s determined. Following, he saw Kaplan grab his laptop and sit on the loveseat. “Pup?”

“Checking our member roster.”

“For?”

Kaplan stopped typing and grimaced. “She’s not there. I’m checking all supernatural archives. I’ll need you to authorize a search through the VPN records.”

“You think she’s a vampiress?”

“No, I don’t know what she is, but I’d like to find out.”

Retrieving his own computer, Cyrus took the spot next to the lycan. “I’ll contact Mr. Tilliman and request the information. I haven’t seen you like this in a while. Trading your briefcase for an investigator’s badge?”

Grumbling, Kaplan’s fingers flew once more. The man’s face was unmoving, and his eyes were sharp. “Regardless, we need to get this information to Alex. I mean… Should we? Should he feed the info to Harold?”

Cyrus hummed. “Alex needs to know, but does Harold? I think it would be best if he didn’t. I think my enforcer should have a get-together with Miss Weidman. It gives us boots on the ground, and if Alex plays his cards right, we might gain an ally.”

Still, the beta hammered away at the sleek keyboard. “I’ll keep digging to find information about her in the meantime. Focusing on what Harold might be up to, I’m starting to think he’s performing a major operation.”

“Go on.”

“Holman and Bundt have been really helpful. Bundt wormed into the Housing Authority’s records and confirmed Harold has been abusing both Major Capital and Individual Apartment Improvements. Nothing illegal there, but…”

“If he’s utilizing the MCIs and IAIs to increase rent prices, then evicting tenants due to unpaid rent…” Power surged through the alpha. His irises burned. “Have Bundt look into all evicted tenants from Harold’s properties in the last five years. If he finds an abundance, tell him to go back as far as he deems necessary. I want to nail this bastard with every shred of evidence possible.”

Kaplan picked up his phone and tapped at a blinding speed. “Yes, Alpha.”

Although he was fuming, Cyrus could not help but find his mate’s response attractive. Now I understand why some like being called by their title. Opening his email on another tab, he sent a message to Alpha Price to verify the Alvey residency in OLCP. Kaplan flashed his phone screen, verifying Bundt’s confirmation of his new mission. Good. I’m coming for you, Harold. Watch your every step from here on. One wrong angle, and I’ll beat you down.

Tabling his anger for Snyder, his mind turned to the other irritation from last night's drop. "I'll also be meeting with Enforcer Henson tomorrow evening as well."

"You're angry. He's not performing well?"

"By performing, you mean pestering Alex and almost blowing both his cover and revealing the supernatural in public? Oh, he's performing all right."

Kaplan was still. "You're joking?"

Cyrus growled. "I wish. My interviews with him were satisfactory. So young, so eager to lead. But if this is his definition of leading, it's a poor example."

"I can draw up charges."

"Do that. Whether I'll use them or not is another question."

"You're going to scare him first?"

The panda rolled his neck. "Yes, but if he acts out, then I'll have Moore arrest him for being a threat to society. Can't have that on my council."

***

Patience was never a virtue, but it was today. Staring at her, he nearly forgot about his coffee. Sipping the lukewarm liquid, Dave grimaced. Whoops. He gulped half of it with disdain and went to Ray’s station. “Can I get a warm-up?”

“No prob,” said the human. The man was a laxed, stereotypical skater teen with enough hair over his eyes to blind him. Whipping his head, the kid could probably see long enough to turn around and fill Dave's cup.

Stacy's blonde ponytail bounced as she approached. "That's your fourth refill. If this were a bar, you'd be cut off."

"Then you haven't been to the Hideaway yet."

"I so have!"

Dave smirked. "You haven't gone with me. I know the bartender," he said with a wink.

She nodded, understanding what he meant. "Got ten more minutes, stud."

"Take it easy. Remember, you get paid by the hour."

Stacy rolled her eyes as she walked away and assisted another customer.

Minutes felt like hours as Dave planned the start of their staycation. Get her a shower and clean clothes, play for an hour or two before heading to Biacci's. After that… Yeah, after dinner. That'll be the best time to do it.

"Earth to David!"

He snapped to. Stacy was waving her hand in front of his face. How he missed her scent, he would never know. "Done?"

She sighed and flung her hat off. "Take me away! I don't want to see this place for the next three days."

"Yes, ma'am." He took her hand and led the way to the truck. "Your place?"

"Yeah. Heather and Gwen are there. Need me to go in first and squash any hanky-panky?"

"I'm starting to think you do that for fun."

Shrugging, she unlocked her car and sped away. He rolled his eyes. Not with these gas prices. The lycan parked in the apartment complex and escalated the staircase, two steps at a time. Opening the door, he smelled the vanilla and cherry blossom soap Stacy used.

Gwen and Heather were cuddled on the couch, but he had to look twice. "Uh… Heather?"

Her scales and red irises were showing.

The vampiress snorted. "You should look at yourself. It's like you've seen something you shouldn't be able to explain."

Darting his gaze between the giggling girls, Dave made an assumption. "You got permission?"

"Yep. Got approval from both Mason and Varis. Gwendolyn wanted a serious relationship, and I couldn't hide anymore."

Gwen straightened. "Wait. Why isn't he freaking out? Stace did before running to the bathroom."

Heather pointed at Dave. "It's got to come from the horse's mouth."

The beta smirked. "Or in this case, the wolf's." Why the hell not? She knows about vampires now.

The human's jaw went slack. Seeing a reaction from a supernatural reveal was one of Dave's guilty pleasures. He pawed the air daintily and growled. Heather cackled as Gwen stayed perfectly still. Egging on the situation, Dave leaned against the doorframe. "If it helps, I was actually Team Edward when Twilight came out."

Heather's attention was grabbed. "Oh really now?"

"Could've done without the sparkling glitter, but Jacob came off as a fuckboy. Too much swagger."

Gwen whispered in Heather's ear. "Is this for real?"

Dave couldn't help himself. He laughed, "Real as the vampire you're sitting next to. Hi, I'm Dave, second-in-command of the local shapeshifter pack. You've probably met Mason Wilson, my boss."

"Sh-shapeshifter? Not a werewolf?"

Shaking his head, he headed to the kitchen and helped himself to a bottle of water. "Nope. Werewolves exist, but aren't as common. They tend to stick around the Wisconsin area. Shifters like us have an at-birth designated animal spirit, carried by reproduction and mating."

Gwen glanced at the bathroom door. "Stace?"

"Just as human as you are. She knows about us though. I'm assuming Heather's sworn you to secrecy?"

Heather nodded. "She made a pact. If she blabs, it's my responsibility, Beta." When Gwen looked confused again, the vampire murmured, "I'll explain later, babe. Dave, you going to get all furry for us?"

"Nah, not today, "he answered. "Maybe after this weekend."

Stacy opened the door and dashed into her room. With her damp hair down, she came out with a duffel bag. "Ready, wolfie?"

"Always, baby girl. Stay out of trouble, ladies. Heather, call me or Mace if things get really serious."

The vampiress winked and waved as they left. Behind the closed door, he heard Gwen ask, "What did he mean by that?"

They'll be fine. Heather's a good judge of character. Vamps usually are. Leading Stacy to the Silverado, he waited until she put her satchel in the back before spinning and pinning her. "You ready for three long days and nights with me?"

Her shiver and pant excited him. She tucked in her bottom lip before nodding. Time was of the essence. He kissed her before opening the passenger door for her. Taking the fastest route home, Dave pushed the speed limit. As he parked, both of them got out with haste. With the key in one hand, he picked Stacy up with the other arm, earning a squeal. Once inside, he heard the duffel drop. He set her down, only to catch her as she hopped in front of him.

Carrying her to the bed, he stopped. She felt so perfect against his chest. "Stacy…"

"Dave," she whispered breathlessly.

The lycan licked his lips. He had this exact moment planned, but for some reason, he felt as if he was about to flub it. "St-Stacy Boswell? I love you to the moon and back."

Her smile ignited his courage. He set her down, but kept her in a seated position. "These past months have made me and my wolf so happy. I'm so scared of losing you."

"You know I love you, Dave. I'm not going anywhere."

Hearing those words solidified his resolve. He knelt. "In that case, may I have the honor of turning you… and making you my mate? My one and only?"

Her cheeks immediately flushed. Holding a hand over her mouth, she remained silent for several time-stopping seconds.

When she nodded, Dave's wolf howled inside his mind.

"Y-yes. Yes, you may."

He trembled. He got the perfect answer. All of the air left his lungs. Raising, he held her hands and sat next to her. Before he could say anything, her lips landed on his. When they stopped to catch their breath, she asked, "So… Turning, huh?"

Teary-eyed, he opened the nightstand and grabbed a lancet he borrowed from Doc Shaney. "Are you sure?"

She sniffed. "Yeah. It's not going to hurt, is it?"

"Just a prick, then we touch fingers. The full moon was last week, so you'll have twenty or so days before you turn. That… That's going to be the painful part. It'll last for a minute, but I'll be there for you the entire time. After that, I'll never let anything hurt you."

"And… And the bite?"

"After you've shifted. Once you're a shifter, your pain tolerance will be higher. We'll move at your pace. Whenever you're ready."

Stacy smiled, nodded, and took the tiny blade from Dave. She winced as she pricked her ring finger. The pebble of blood ballooned, then ran down. Taking the lancet, he mirrored the action. They shared a stare, then met their wounds.

***

Wagner took his sub and sat at a booth in the diner. He bit, and plotted his next move. Cyrus says to lay low with Weidman. The secretary… Damn! Didn't see that one coming. She's human. Only thing I can't figure out is whether she's on Harold's side or not.

No, she's not. Harold already has Rochter. He'd be the one watching me, not some unaware humans. What is she up to? Does she even know we're lycan?

He felt a gaze on him, but he kept his attention on the food. Probably more of Weidman's doofuses. She's asking for trouble.

When the bell above the front door jingled, he looked up. A slender, old man in a suit and trench coat entered. Wagner smelled him as he approached. Vampire? He's older than dirt. Probably high on the—

"Pardon me? Mind if I join you?"

The question was ridiculous. Other than a few employees and three other patrons, no one else was there. "Plenty of other places to sit, sir."

His response was ignored. Seating himself, the vampire had a weak smile. "Yes, but I like company. It's easy to talk to an empty chair, but hard to get answers."

"I'm guessing you like answers."

"Accurate assumption, young delta." When the waitress walked up, he declined the offered menu. "Turkey club and a plate of fries. And please, put this man's meal on my bill."

Despite the generous gesture, Wagner was still uneasy. "That wasn't necessary."

"Please, don't consider that a form of favor. Just a friendly treat."

Good. Hate to be in debt to a vampire. "Mind my manners, but it seems like you wanted to sit with me."

The old man grinned and interlocked his fingers on the table. "Perspective. Glad I'm talking to someone of intellect. I hear you're being followed."

Instincts kicked in. He didn't feel like he was danger, but he stayed alert. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sheila Weidman."

Keeping himself in control, he cocked his head to the side. "I don't know who that is."

The man's kind demeanor vanished. "I don't like liars, son."

Right. I'm talking to a vampire. Shifting in his seat, Wagner leaned forward and whispered, "And I don't like imposing strange men."

Tightening his tie, the vampire smirked. "Maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Bryce Tilliman."

Wagner's blood ran cold.

"You've heard of me, haven’t you shapeshifter?"

The lycan merely nodded. "M-Mr. Tilliman."

"Let me repeat myself. I hear you're being followed. Vonder called, asking questions. Figured I would do some homework, and I found this little… operation."

Biting his lip, a judgment call needed to be made. "I'm tasked with investigating Harold Snyder."

Tilliman nodded and clicked his tongue. "How interesting! So am I. What disturbs me is your ability to get so close to dear Harold so quickly. Tell me, how did you do it?"

Filling in the vampire, Wagner complied. From Snyder's initial approach to his current situation with finding out who Sheila was, he left out nothing. "And here you are sir."

The man appeared satisfied. "Excellent work, Mr. Wagner. To be exiled from office and still maintain your alpha's loyalty. I knew Vonder was a smart cookie the moment he took Scott's place. I must ask you to do something for me."

"Yes?"

"Pull out. You’re done with Harold Snyder."

Wagner snorted. "With all due respect, Mr. Tilliman, that's not your call to make. You don't have jurisdiction over my actions."

Sneering, Tilliman inched closer. "You are too close to my investigation."

The puzzle pieces fell into place. "Weidman's your agent."

"Smart boy. Time to be smarter. Back off."

This is a mess. Either piss off Cyrus, or piss off what might be a grudge-holding vampire. As the waitress came with the sandwich and fries, Wagner rose. "As you wish, Mr. Tilliman. You'll hear from my boss."

Tilliman merely smiled and waved him off as he unfurled a napkin.

Leaving the diner, Wagner growled to himself. He was close. So fucking close! I’m practically breathing down Harold’s neck. Just another month or two.

Fuck, that man was scary. Straddling his bike, he stared at the helmet. Bryce fucking Tilliman. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that. Well, he wouldn’t be the Chairman of the New York City Coven if he didn’t. Still…

Shielding his head, he started the motorcycle and revved the engine.

I’m not done. Not by a long shot.

Copyright © 2022 astone2292; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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