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It took a lot to anger Tean; he was, on the whole, the most patient, compassionate person Jem knew, and he hated conflict. So, Jem found it darkly satisfying to see the tightening in Tean’s mouth, the way he put his shoulders back, the clenched fists at his sides. It was obvious he wanted to say something. It was also obvious he wasn’t going to do it. Not without a nudge.
“Actually,” Jem said, “you’re wrong.”
Emery’s sunset eyes flicked to Jem, almost amused. “Excuse me?”
“You know what?” John-Henry said. “We’re all tired—”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jem said. “Does he, Tean?”
Tean held himself rigid, refusing to look at Jem.
“Go on,” Jem said. “Tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Emery asked. “Tell me that it’s humane to keep animals in cages, in a place they were never meant to be, like exhibits in a freak show?”
“That’s not what it is,” Tean said, the words brittle with nerves and coming a little too fast, a little too loud.
“Of course it is.”
“Ree—” John-Henry tried.
“No, it’s not.” Tean swallowed, and when he spoke again, he had his control back—voice professional, modulated, calm. The only hint of his anger was that his voice was a little deeper than usual. This was Tean, the wildlife vet, in his element again. “I understand your point. In a perfect world, taking animals out of their natural habitats and placing them in enclosures like this, especially for our own entertainment, would be cruel. But this isn’t a perfect world. These cats are trafficked to America by people who have no regard for their well-being. They’re bred here in captivity, without any oversight. People buy them as pets, and then they get scared, or they get bored, and they abandon them. They can’t be returned to their natural habitats; they don’t know how to live there. Places like this—sanctuaries that are inspected and certified—do their best to provide a good quality of life in the face of tremendous obstacles. These cats are not in cages, and they’re not unhappy, and they receive food and veterinary care. To try to take an imaginary moral high ground instead of acknowledging the complicated realities, both ethical and logistical, of dealing with these cats is either willfully blind or intellectually disingenuous.”
The frost-freeze silence crackled through the summer night again. Emery’s face was flushed, his chest rising and falling furiously, feet set wide.
“We’re going to go,” John-Henry said in a low voice, taking his arm. “Leave it—”
“No,” Emery said, yanking his arm free. He drew another deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was tight. “All right.”
“All right?” Jem asked.
“All right?” John-Henry said.
Tean hunched his shoulders and folded his arms.
“I acknowledge that my comment was an oversimplification. You are…not wrong. I apologize.”
“Now maybe you should fight him,” Jem told Tean.
Tean turned on him, horrified.
“Jesus,” John-Henry muttered. “It took me thirty years to get to ‘not wrong.’”
“Perhaps, John, if you presented your arguments more cogently instead of, for example, trying to convince me that Colt should be allowed to grow his hair out because, quote, ‘It’s his hair, and he can look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo if he wants to’—”
“Ok,” John-Henry said. “Now we’re leaving. For real.”
“But what about—” Tean began.
“We’ll hang out a few miles down the road and see if the Rangels take us anywhere interesting.” He gave Jem one final, considering look. “I meant what I said: it’s in your best interest to focus on keeping yourselves safe. Don’t leave the resort.”
Jem nodded and smiled—relief, exhaustion, gratitude. Some of it was even real.
John-Henry frowned. “We’ll walk you back to the party.”
“They’ll fuck up,” Emery said as they headed back toward the dome of light and sound on the other side of the welcome center. “The Rangel brothers, I mean. And when they do, we’ll pin them to the fucking wall, and they’ll talk.”
Jem nodded, making his face optimistic, hopeful. But he had an idea what the Rangels would tell them: about the guy who’d wanted to buy a bird, the guy who’d broken into a van and seen a lot of shit he wasn’t supposed to see. A guy they’d followed back to Santaland and cornered in Yesenia’s room. A guy who wasn’t connected at all to Yesenia’s disappearance or Missy’s arrest. And what would Tean say when it all came out?
