Framing Felipe (37 page)

Fuck,
Dana,
be
careful.

“Felipe,
what
is
happening?”

“Hard
to
explain.
Jacques
did
bad
taking
shifters
from
this
area.
The
politics
were
a

mess
long
before
we
came,
and
now
they’re
worse.
They’re
having
to
resort
to
drastic

measures
to
normalize
the
situation.”

Her
eyes
widened.
“He’s
going
to
get
angry.
You’ll
never
get
your
brother
back
if
you

poke
him.
He’ll
keep
him
drugged,
hidden.
Fabian—he
knows
too
much.”

“About
what?”

She
shook
her
head.
“Better
you
not
know.
Don’t
worry
about
him.
He’s
got
a
plan.
He

didn’t
tell
me
what,
but
I
sensed
he
has
one.
He’ll
fix
it
for
all
of
us…if
he
survives.”

He
grasped
her
shoulders
and
bent
so
his
eyes
were
on
the
level
of
hers.
“I
will
find

him,
and
I
will
find
him
alive
and
well.
You
tell
el
negrero
that
if
he
asks
you.”

“Felipe,
please,
I
don’t
want
it
to
happen
again.
Not
like—”

The
sound
of
Sarah’s
primal
grunt
followed
by
the
cracking
sound
of
breaking
bones

punctuated
the
Gypsy’s
warning.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
146
–
Holley Trent

Sarah
didn’t
hear
the
burly
man
creep
up.
Recognition
dawned
on
her
as
he

maneuvered
through
the
shrubbery.
It
was
that
circus
hand
she’d
seen
the
night
she’d

visited
Fabian.

“You
look
better
without
the
get-‐up,”
he
said,
pausing
briefly
to
shift
the
heavy
box
he

toted
to
his
other
shoulder.

She
shifted
her
weight
and
slowly
inched
her
fingers
toward
her
waistband.
“I
guess
I

won’t
wear
that
disguise
again.”

“It
wasn’t
your
face,
princess.
It
was
your
boots.”

Shit
.
Sarah
stole
a
peek
down
at
the
rugged
things
and
swore
again.
They
were
men’s

boots
bought
in
a
woman’s
size.
Comfortable.
She
wore
them
ten
months
out
of
the
year.

They
always
made
the
rare
kick
to
a
guy’s
head
feel
that
much
more
satisfying.

“Not
that
your
face
isn’t
nice
in
all
of
its
forms.
I
remember
those
eyes
now.”

“What?”

“No
offense,
lady,
but
I’m
starting
to
think
you’re
up
to
no
good.
Wrong
place
at
the

wrong
time
just
doesn’t
happen
that
much.”

“No
offense
taken,
because
I’m
damn
sure
you’re
not
up
to
anything
good.”

Her
right
hand
was
wrapped
around
her
Glock’s
handle,
but
she
didn’t
draw
it
just
yet.

Her
silencer
hadn’t
been
packed
in
that
big
bag
of
goodies
they
brought,
and
she
didn’t

want
to
send
the
cavalry
running
in
her
direction
for
something
she
could
handle
quietly.

She
was
surprised
no
one
had
reacted
to
the
sound
of
the
bears,
who
hadn’t
yet
made
it
out.

But
maybe
that
sort
of
noise
was
typical
in
RV
Land.

Damned
shame.
She
wished
they
could
free
them
all—everyone
who’d
been
taken

against
their
wills
and
pressed
into
this
sick
workforce,
but
they
didn’t
have
that
kind
of

manpower
with
them.
They’d
gone
in
to
rescue
one
man,
and
maybe
the
local
shifters—not

the
entire
circus.
For
all
she
knew,
maybe
some
of
those
folks
actually
wanted
to
be
there,

though
she
couldn’t
imagine
why.
Constant
transience?
Having
no
family?
No
home?
She

willed
herself
not
to
look
toward
the
shadowy
spot
where
Felipe
was
gesticulating
madly
at

the
old
woman.
Didn’t
want
to
give
him
away
to
the
man
with
the
box.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
147
–
Holley Trent

“What
are
you,
police?
You
keep
turnin’
up
in
our
business.
Well
let
me
tell
you

something.
We
haven’t
done
anything
wrong,”
the
man
said,
now
setting
the
box
down.
He

rolled
up
his
sleeves,
and
Sarah
didn’t
like
the
looks
of
it.
It
was
aggressive
posturing,
and
if

he
thought
she
was
going
to
back
off
just
because
he
showed
a
little
bulk—a
little
muscle—

he
had
another
thing
coming.
Small
and
powerful,
just
like
a
nine-‐volt
battery.
If
he
pressed

her,
he’d
get
a
shock.

“I
guess
I’m
sort
of
like
the
police,
in
a
way.”
She
stood,
slowly,
and
kept
her
gun’s

barrel
pointed
toward
the
ground.
“But
I
don’t
wear
a
badge
and
I’m
not
going
to
cuff
you

or
take
you
to
jail.”

His
features
folded
into
crinkles
as
he
scrunched
his
face
with
confusion.
“Huh?”

“Come,
now.
You
know
as
well
as
I
do
that
this
community
is
self-‐policing.”
She
slipped

her
gun
into
its
holster
and
rolled
up
her
sleeves,
too,
smiling
at
him.
No
magic
involved.

She
didn’t
want
to
make
him
comfortable.
Didn’t
want
to
make
him
talk.
For
once,
she

wanted
confrontation
because
there
wasn’t
a
damn
thing
he
could
tell
her
she
didn’t

already
know.

“This
community
?
What
are
you,
besides
a
whore?
Wolf?
Bear?”
He
dropped
the
box

and
lurched
for
her.

Whore?
She
dodged
him
easily,
being
smaller
and
far
more
nimble,
and
as
he
rounded,

preparing
to
swing
again,
she
said,
“I’m
no
one’s
whore.
If
you
want
a
label
for
me,
how

about
Shrew?”
This
time
when
she
targeted
her
punch,
she
didn’t
put
emotion
into
it.
This

time
it
was
powered
by
pure
physicality.
It
was
the
punch
she
perfected
on
the
bag
at
the

office.
It
wasn’t
an
impulsive
thing
that
stemmed
from
hurt
feelings.
This
punch,
even
with

her
weaker
left
hand,
was
a
trained
weapon,
meant
to
cause
destruction.

A
loud
crunch
sounded
as
her
fist
cracked
bone
for
the
second
time
in
a
day,
and
before

the
pain
could
register
in
her
fingers,
he
fell
hard
to
his
knees,
groaning.
“Bitch.”

That
punch
should
have
knocked
him
out
cold
.
The
fact
it
hadn’t
meant…

“Sarah!”
Felipe
shouted
from
the
shadows.
He
was
there,
then
he
disappeared
into
the

air,
likely
coming
to
her
aid.

The
big
man
scrambled
to
his
feet,
and
as
he
moved,
his
skin
rippled
over
his
bones
and

every
part
of
him
suddenly
seemed
bigger.
More
dangerous.
His
fists
reshaped
into
clubs.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
148
–
Holley Trent

His
teeth
elongated,
and
capped
with
deadly
points.
A
long
tail
tipped
with
razor-‐like

protrusions
coiled
around
him.
“We’ll
take
you
next,”
he
rasped.
“Shrew.
Whore.
Whatever.”

“Go
ahead
and
fucking
try,”
she
said,
grabbing
her
knife’s
handle
and
crouching
into
a

defensive
stance.
She
let
her
eyes
flit
away
from
the
Visa
for
just
a
moment,
trying
to
spot

evidence
of
Felipe
in
the
fray,
but
there
was
no
hint
of
him.

Don’t
step
on
my
toes,
Felipe.

The
Gypsy’s
little
dog
barked
madly
and
hopped
at
her
feet,
straining
against
its
leash

to
run
toward…Sarah?
The
Visa?
Sarah
couldn’t
tell,
and
didn’t
care.

Another
loud
roar
echoed
into
the
night,
followed
by
the
creak
of
a
metal
door
being

forced
open,
and
then
Sarah
knew
in
her
gut.
The
bears
were
out.

Focus
.

She
turned
her
attention
back
to
the
Visa
right
as
one
of
his
heavy
club
appendages

arced
toward
her
face.
She
fell
into
a
backward
roll
to
dodge
it,
immediately
sweeping
her

leg
out
toward
his,
hoping
to
knock
him
off
his
feet.
The
kick
was
unproductive.
In
his

current
form,
he
was
just
too
solid.
Too
heavy.
It
didn’t
matter
how
much
torque
she
had

and
how
good
her
angle
of
attack
was.

While
he
paused
there,
likely
planning
his
next
move,
she
sliced
her
knife
as
close
to

him
as
she
could
get
without
coming
too
near
one
of
his
massive
arms
or
the
tail
he’d
just

deployed.
He
whipped
it
around
like
a
cat-‐o’-‐nine-‐tails.

She
leapt
over
it
as
if
it
were
a
very
deadly
jump
rope,
and
had
a
revelation.
He
couldn’t

control
all
those
appendages
at
once.
He
was
making
shit
up
as
he
went
along,
morphing

into
whatever
he
thought
would
hurt
her
most.
He
didn’t
have
practice
in
that
form.
He

couldn’t
use
arms,
legs,
tail,
and
brain
all
at
once.
He
wasn’t
a
fighter.
Not
even
a
thinker,
for

that
matter.
He
was
just
a
circus
hand
on
a
power
trip.

Keeping
her
eyes
on
his
dark,
narrowed
stare,
she
took
an
educated
guess
of
its

whereabouts,
then
and
dropped
her
knife
point-‐down
on
his
tail.

He
bellowed
as
the
sharpened
Ka-‐Bar
pierced
his
flesh,
and
the
tail,
pinned
to
the

grassy
ground,
writhed
as
he
tried
to
constrict
it—draw
it
back
into
his
body.

“Nice
try,
sucker,”
she
said,
drawing
her
gun.
“Let’s
all
chill
the
hell
out,
and
I’ll

demonstrate
just
how
nice
we
Shrews
are.
I
don’t
really
want
to
get
blood
on
these
jeans.

They
cost
me
a
hundred
bucks
and
my
boyfriend
likes
them.”

FRAMING FELIPE
–
149
–
Holley Trent

He
didn’t
think
it
was
funny.
He
bent
to
reach
for
the
knife,
but
Sarah
forced
her
knee

up
to
his
chin.
Another
satisfying
crack.

“Hey,
hey.
I’m
on
a
roll
today.”

That
sent
him
toppling
backward
and
blowing
out
blood
through
his
lips,
but
still,
he

retained
his
consciousness.

Sarah
reached
in
quick
and
grabbed
her
knife,
sighing.
“Why
don’t
you
just
take
a
little

nap,
big
guy?
And
when
you
wake
up,
we’ll
be
gone.”