Page 9 of Scout’s Honor

“I had to give them your name because Thorne was there.”

“Did you mention… you know… vampires? Or ‘The Cause’?”

Maze shook his head. “I didn't have to. Some federal cop showed up and thanked me for my assistance, then told me to shut my mouth. I think I'm free to go.”

“What about Thorne?”

“He took off with the hospital director a while ago. He’s paying for everything, like he said.”

Dallas leaned in close and lowered his voice. “What's his animal?”

Maze laughed. “I don’t know, kangaroo?”

“He doesn’t smell like a kangaroo.”

Maze snorted. “What’s a kangaroo smell like, Hot Pockets?”

Dallas grinned. “We're supposed to figure Thorn out, me and you.”

Maze nodded. “I figured. I set up a meeting with him tomorrow at Wolf's Keep at 2. p.m.”

“I don't know where that is.”

“Hold on.” Maze strolled over to the desk and came back with a paper and pen. He drew a map starting from BBOC and heading off into the forest. He finished it and gave it to Dallas, saying, “See you then.”

He went outside and Dallas followed. Maze crossed the parking lot, then jogged across the road to the trees lining it where he melted into the forest. After a moment, a hawk buzzed Dallas’ head and flew away, screeching like a dinosaur.

Dallas got in his car and drove slowly out of the parking lot, replaying the night over in his head. He turned onto the highway and picked up speed, trying to remember the name of the magical house he was heading for. Was it Truth? No. Belief? No. Conviction? No.

Shit.

To his left, a blue glow caught his eye. Curious, he slowed, peering at the tiny outlet mall set just off the highway. The glow moved around inside one of the units, but too fast, Dallas was past it. Traffic was light and he had no problem turning around quickly in a scenic pullout, then driving past again.

The blue glow came from a woman, and she was now in the parking lot loading bags into a car. Even from the road, he could tell she was beautiful. Her body was curvy and she had long, wavy brown hair draped over slender shoulders. In fact, he even knew her eye color—green because he’d seen her before—she was a lawyer—Jameson’s lawyer!

A few days ago, before they’d figured out Dakota was a switch, Dallas had hunted Jameson down to tell him Dakota had never shifted. Tough as she was, she couldn’t hold her own with the other shifters. He’d found Jameson at the courthouse on ‘Cause’ business. Dallas had said his piece, and then something lovely had caught his eye.

Dallas fell into the memory, savoring it.

7—Raindrops and Kitten Whiskers

Dallas stepped away from the others, trying to blend into the crowd on the courthouse steps, but a blue glow caught his eye, and he looked that way, thinking it was Dakota.

It was someone else entirely, a beautiful woman wearing a plain tan dress and brown glasses. At first her blue glow was all he could see, but the more he looked, the more the glow faded into the background. The woman climbed the courthouse steps, her long hair flowing down her back in the prettiest way. Dallas double-timed up the steps to open the door for her. Other people passed through with her, but she smiled at him. Their eyes locked for a second that stretched into lifetimes, letting him study her at his leisure. Her eyes were a pretty green, reminding him of the ocean close to shore. Her scent was like the ocean, too, a fresh summer storm rolling in over the waves.

His mother had glowed a soft white and Dakota had glowed a soft blue from the moment she’d been born. He’d never known what it meant, and others had not seen what he’d seen when he’d mentioned it. Here in Nantahala he’d learned that the blue glow meant ‘Belief switch.’

Fascinated, Dallas followed the glowing woman. Was she a switch? He hadn’t seen her at the training grounds. She went inside a courtroom and Dallas followed. She walked all the way down the center aisle, through the little swinging gate, and sat at the counsel’s table to the right. She greeted the bailiff and court reporter warmly and they both smiled at her.

Dallas sat a few rows behind, watching, soaking in her graceful movements. She spread out her papers, put several pens on the desk, then sat and began to read the top paper from a stack.

“All rise,” the bailiff called out. “Court is now in session, with the Honorable Judge Sturn presiding.”

Dallas stood with the rest of the courtroom as the judge entered. She was an older woman with pale, doughy skin, lips painted red, and a helmet of stiff blonde hair. She reached the bench and looked out over the courtroom, first patting her hair, then fiddling with her white lace collar, her judicial robes whooshing as she moved.

“Be seated,” Judge Sturn said, as she sat down. Her eyes landed on the glowing lawyer and her already sour face soured further. “Ms. Candor.”

The glowing lawyer stood. “Yes, Your Honor?”