Page 6 of Peacemaker

“They can’t force them to be branded.” My voice was heavy and full of tears. Full of suppressed rage. Full of frustration. “They can’t keep kicking them and not expect them to fight back.”

“I’m sorry, Trinity.”

What could we do?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

The supernaturals couldn’t move off and try to find a new place. Things weren’t better in other cities and besides, Bay Town was where they belonged. Bay Town was in their blood. Its magic was in their hearts. It was theirs.

We’d known the city was discussing marking the supernats. I hadn’t believed it would happen, but the supernaturals had. They didn’t talk about it much, but it was there in their eyes.

They’d known what was coming.

“That’s not all,” Crawford murmured.

“What the hell else is there?”

His throat jerked as he swallowed, almost convulsively, and I knew bad shit was coming. Worse shit.

“Tell me,” I whispered.

“The city will be encouraging the supernaturals to petition for…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then continued. “Fosters. They can work for or pay a human to take them as a ward. There will be leash laws.”

“Because we can’t have strays roaming the streets,” I said, deadly calm as my blood froze like ice in my veins. “Someone—some human—has to own the supernaturals.”

“It’s for—”

I interrupted him. “If you say it’s for their own good, I will drop you where you stand.”

He didn’t back down, just gave me his blank cop eyes and continued. “If they’re fostered by a human—especially an influential human—they’ll be safer than they’ve ever been. If a human claims them, they’ll be protected. And the humans will see them as less of a threat if they’re handled by a human foster.”

“Like dogs,” I said. “Leashed by a human handler, so they won’t seem like such big, vicious, unmanaged dogs. Owned.”

He looked he might say something, but in the end, he kept his mouth shut.

“He wants to make them slaves,” I continued hoarsely, as the reality of it sank in. “Leash laws. Killed if they refuse to allow the humans to…” I paused and looked at him. “Where are they branded? Hands? Arms?”

“Face,” he murmured. “Foreheads or cheeks. Their choice. So it can’t be hidden. Trinity…”

“What else?”

“A larger fee will be required for supernaturals to stay in Bay Town. A much larger fee.”

“And for those who can’t afford it…”

He didn’t look at me. “The city is aware that some of the nonhumans have wealth secreted away. The well-off may pay the fees for those who don’t have the money.” His face was blank, his voice close to a monotone, as though he knew he had to get everything out at once, even if he didn’t want to say the words. “The unclaimed supernaturals will be—”

“Go away, Captain,” I said. “Please, just go away.”

But as he opened his car door, I shouted. “I claim them. Go back and tell the city that the Bay Town supernaturals are claimed by me. If any of you touch them, we will destroy you. Tell them.”

Angus pulled into the driveway, and when I met his gaze through the windshield, he closed his eyes in a long, tired blink. Then he climbed out of his truck and strode to me.

Under the captain’s blank stare, he leaned over and kissed me. “You all right, sweetheart?”

“No,” I told him. “Not really.”

Angus turned to the captain. “I’ll have your car returned to you today.”