The flashing blue and red lights illuminated the inside of the dirty, rundown convenience store. With blood coating his hands, Trent screamed into the radio for backup. Adam had gone so pale—Trent knew that wasn’t a good sign.

“Please,” he begged. “Please hurry.” Where the hell is everyone? The other police officers should be here by now. “Where are you? Officer down! Officer down!” Trent shouted into the radio.

“Trent!”

Trent shot up in bed and gripped the arm of the person who’d been shaking him. “Mac?” His boss and best friend sat on his bed next to him.

“You were dreaming,” Mac said.

“Screaming, you mean.” Trent rubbed his hands over his face. The same nightmare, or memory, haunted him. The night Adam had died had been the worst of Trent’s life. It didn’t help that he kept reliving it.

“You want to talk about it?” Mac asked. He kept his voice quiet but had let go of Trent’s arms. Mac already knew what had happened all those years ago. He was the only one Trent had told once he’d arrived in Brookside. Mac also knew Trent didn’t like to be touched and Trent breathed easier when Mac stood, then took several steps away.

“No.” Trent didn’t want to talk. Or think.

“Okay, man,” Mac said. “I’m going back to bed.”

Trent waited until Mac had his hand on the door. “Mac.”

Mac glanced over his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“I’m here for you,” Mac responded. “Anytime.”

All Trent could do was nod. He wished he could give in and be the man Mac wanted him to be. Mac believed the best of everyone who lived in the old bar and had become part of the family. But Trent wasn’t ever going to open up like the others. He’d been betrayed too many times in his life.

Knowing he wouldn’t be going back to sleep, Trent threw the covers off before climbing out of bed. He was already wearing a pair of sleep pants, so he grabbed his T-shirt off the top of the dresser and pulled it on before leaving his bedroom. The entire back area of The Den, a small bar in Brookside, California, had been made into small residences. Most of the shifters who lived there had done so for many years. They were the few people Trent considered his family.

He glanced at his watch. After four in the morning. The bar had been closed for a couple of hours, so everyone else should be in their rooms. Probably sleeping with no problems. Some of them would even be cuddled up to their lovers. I’m not jealous, I’m not, he told himself. It wasn’t like Trent would ever have anyone to warm his bed for more than a few hours at a time. Good thing he worked in a bar. Plenty of opportunity to meet a woman, have sex and send her on her way. Trent was always up-front about what he wanted, so the females he slept with didn’t give him trouble. A few showed up at the bar again, wanting him to take them to bed for another round, but Trent never slept with the same woman twice. He couldn’t allow emotions to get involved. Luckily, most of the bed partners he picked understood the score.

Trent left the lights off as he made his way to the kitchen. He knew this place and while his shifter senses might not allow him to see in the dark, there were a few windows letting in enough light for his heightened eyesight to see.

Once in the kitchen, he turned on the small light above the sink so he could find his secret stash. Annabelle Sanchez, one of his favorite people in the world, always did a little shopping for the rest of them. Kelly, their cook, refused to allow them to eat anything processed or premade. But sometimes that was what they craved.

Opening the bottom cabinet, he reached back until his fingers brushed the top of a jar.

“Yes!” he hissed. Kelly sometimes found their stash and tossed the items. Not this time. Trent pulled out the jar of peanut butter. Kelly made an awesome strawberry jam which already had Trent’s mouth watering thinking about it.

He made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before cleaning up his mess. He did not want Kelly to find out he’d made himself a late-night snack. He’d never hear the end of it. Trent grabbed a beer before strolling out of the kitchen.

The back door led him to the quiet spot where Trent spent a lot of time.

He sat down at the picnic table and let the night settle around him.

Trent loved it out here. No one bothered him and he could stay for hours and hours. He loved to watch the sway of the tree limbs. The animals making a home inside the National Forest bordering their town would sometimes venture as far out as the bar.

In the shifter world, Trent’s animal the lowest of the low. A hyena shifter was a joke to the other more popular species. To humans, Trent was a monster, an abomination. He’d never fitted in with anyone, not until he’d found a home at The Den.

But the natural animals that ventured this far reacted to Trent as if he were a predator. True, in his shifted form he had some crazy instincts, but he always had complete control of his animal side.

He ate his food while downing the rest of his beer. The others wouldn’t be awake for at least six more hours. Just him and little critters he could hear skittering around. He needed to avoid thinking about the dream.

Adam had been his best friend since the day they’d been partnered together. Even after Trent came out to the public as a shifter, Adam’s loyalty had never wavered. Too bad he couldn’t say the same about his other friends or his lover. No one else had stood with him. And what had Adam gained by giving Trent that devotion? His death.

* * * *

Brookside, California. Melissa Bishop pulled her 2010 Titan truck up in front of the sheriff’s office. She peered through her windshield at the old brick building. The blinds were open, so she could see the activity going on inside. Or a lack of activity.

There was a deputy sitting at a desk, but she couldn’t see anyone else. It was still early. Just shy of seven o’clock in the morning. She wasn’t due to report for her first day until eight, but Melissa had been anxious to begin her new life.

It had taken years and a lot of sacrifices to finally reach this stage in her career.

Melissa glanced at her hands. She was shaking. Fuck, I need to get control of myself. This was what she’d wanted. What she needed. The Shifter Coalition now worked side-by-side with the Brookside Sheriff Department. Melissa’s chance to make amends started here. Working side-by-side with shifters.

Time to get started.

She pushed open her door, then leaned over and picked up her messenger bag. She stood and adjusted her khaki uniform. It was restricting and different. After the years of wearing the dark blue colors of the Los Angeles Police Department, she wanted this fresh start to work.

“Deputy Bishop.”

Melissa spun around at the sound of the sheriff’s voice. They’d only spoken on the phone, but she’d recognize the sound anywhere. “Sheriff.”

Sheriff Magnus stood in the street, along with another man. They both held Styrofoam cups from the only coffee shop in town—Melissa had researched all the businesses around her new home.

Sheriff Magnus was a big guy, exactly as she’d pictured. The Brookside website reported him to be a tiger shifter. He’d been in charge of the Brookside Sheriff Department for three decades already. There wasn’t a lot of information to be found on Magnus other than the website. He didn’t even have a Facebook or Twitter account. She’d wanted to know her boss before taking the job, but he apparently didn’t like posting pictures of his food.

The stranger wasn’t as big as Magnus, but would still stand out in a crowd. Melissa had no idea how to tell what shifter species anyone might be. She didn’t know if there was a secret to figuring it out or not. Hopefully she’d learn.

“You’re here early,” Magnus said.

“Anxious to get started,” she replied.

“Fine.” Magnus motioned with his cup to the other man. “This is Agent Logan Coldwell with the Shifter Coalition. I explained over the phone that we split an office with the Coalition.”

“Yes, sir.” Melissa turned to Agent Coldwell. “It’s nice to meet you.” He appeared to be pretty strait-laced. He wore a perfectly pressed blue suit.

“You, as well,” Coldwell said.

“Well, let’s go in. There’s plenty of work to do,” Magnus said.

“You’re just mad because you have to meet with the park rangers today.” Coldwell bumped Magnus as he started walking toward the office.

“Fucking assholes,” Magnus spat.

Coldwell laughed. “I’ll be there to make sure you don’t kill them.”

Magnus stomped forward, so Melissa hurried to follow along. She knew she had a lot to learn about working with shifters. She got the feeling these two men could fill in the missing pieces she sought.

Inside, the structure housing the Brookside Sheriff Department and the Shifter Coalition was disappointing. Instead of the large chrome-metal multi-floor office she was used to, her current job had her in a tiny building with crumbling concrete walls.

“Uh…” Melissa managed.

Agent Coldwell started laughing. “I told you it’s ugly in here.”

Magnus grunted. The fresh-faced young agent she’d spotted through the window glanced up and smiled.

“No, sir. No,” she said. “It’s…”

“Ugly,” Coldwell repeated.

“It’s a building that keeps the rain off our heads and allows us to do our jobs,” Magnus stated.

“Yes, sir,” she replied right away.

“Jesus,” Magnus said. “Stop siring me to death. Call me Magnus.”

Melissa stared at her boss. She’d never been allowed to call her superiors anything except their rank or sir. “Yes, s… Magnus.”

“Good.” He pointed to two desks covered in paperwork, where the lone deputy sat. “Those are taken.” He motioned by the wall. “Take one of those. Drop your stuff off then come into my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

Magnus frowned at her.

“I mean Magnus.”

He turned and stomped off to one of the two offices with glass doors and windows. Agent Coldwell had gone into the other office. Melissa strolled over where two desks were butted up against the other. Only a computer, monitor and mouse sat on each. Melissa set her bag down on the desk facing the door but put the offices behind her back.

Then she headed to her boss’s office. She knocked on the doorjamb.

“Come in.” Magnus lifted his head. “Sit.”

He only had one chair in front of his large wood desk and she took it, then shifted around, trying to get comfortable.

“It’s the worst chair I could find. Keeps people from coming in here just to blab.”

“No blabbing, sir. I got it,” she replied.

Magnus smirked. He pointed. “See that board?”

A white erase board hung on one wall of the sheriff’s office. It was filled with numbers, a list of names, dates and status. “Yes.”

“It’s the reports of illegal hunting in the area in the last three months.”

Melissa gaped at the board. “Only three months?”

“Each month there are more and more instances. This isn’t only about hunting. There is some sort of conspiracy happening.”

“That’s why you’re meeting with the park rangers,” she hazarded a guess.

“Yes, although I don’t believe it will do any good,” Magnus said. “They don’t want to get involved. They just tell me this is an issue a few fines can be given for.”

“So you hired two more deputies.”

“And pressured the Coalition to put agents in town,” Magnus stated.

Melissa glanced over at the other office. Agent Colwell was on the phone while working on a laptop. His office, unlike the sheriff’s, was filled with filing cabinets, boxes and clutter.

“You made waves in the LAPD,” Magnus said.

Melissa sat up straighter. “Some would say.”

“Everyone I spoke to said,” Magnus responded.

“I pissed some people off.” She looked her new boss in the eye. “And I don’t regret it.”

“So, tell me why,” he ordered.

“I’m sorry?”

“There was something, some situation, which led you to the path you’re on. I want to know what it is. And don’t bullshit me.”

“And if it’s personal?” Melissa got the impression Magnus wouldn’t give a damn.

“I don’t care,” Magnus said. “When I put the word out I was looking for two deputies, I received over forty applications. More than two-thirds were shifters.”

“But you hired a human,” Melissa said. She’d had no idea the competition had been so fierce.

“The other deputy starting this week is a shifter,” Magnus said. “You are the only human who will be in this building. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir,” she replied.

“I’m taking a chance, allowing a human to protect an entire town full of shifters,” Magnus said. “I did it because you made waves. Now, tell me why you did it. Why you applied with me for a position in this town in the middle of nowhere.”

Melissa pressed her hands together. She already had the job. Magnus just wanted to know her story. Everyone had one, after all. She hated being in this position. Not that she blamed her boss—she was surprised Magnus hadn’t asked her before. Melissa had thought carefully about her words and what she’d say.

“Have you ever heard of Detective Adam Cross?” she asked.

“No.” Magnus leaned forward.

“He was a detective with the LAPD who worked in the gang unit. I’d recently been transferred to the missing persons division, but I knew him socially. He was killed one night after he and his partner stumbled onto a burglary at a local all-night store.”

“A shifter?” Magnus had tightened his hand into a fist.

“Not him,” she said. “His partner was, though. Adam could have asked for a transfer. It was common back then when the shifters…you announced your presence. If a human wanted a different partner, the request would be granted.”

“I’ve heard some stories about LAPD,” Magnus said.

“The worst ones are probably true.”

“But Adam stood by his partner,” Magnus stated.

“He did. It made him unpopular.”

“But I bet it was even harder for the shifter,” Magnus said.

Melissa dropped her gaze to her hands. Her heart hurt. “Yeah,” she said softly.

“So, this cop gets killed and…”

“They walked in on a burglary and the guy panics. He shoots Adam and the partner returned fire. Perp is dead, but Adam is bleeding out.”

“Jesus,” Magnus said.

“Adam’s partner is screaming on the radio for help.”

“I have a feeling I know how this ends.” Magnus rubbed his hand over his face.

“Dispatch waited to pass on the information. Available units waited to respond. Adam bled to death in his partner’s arms,” Melissa finished.

“Fuck,” Magnus spat.

“There was a massive cover-up. The partner ended up walking away from it all.”

“I don’t blame him,” Magnus said.

“A couple of months after everything had been swept under the rug, I heard a captain in my division talking about the incident. They called it an ‘incident’. They blamed Adam for not bailing on his partner when he had the chance,” she told him. “This captain had a copy of the radio transmission. I found it in his desk.”

“You went into your superior’s desk?”

“They were laughing about the death of a fellow officer,” she defended herself.

“I would have done the same thing,” Magnus said.

“After I listened to it, I couldn’t put up with it any longer. It changed me. The desperation in Tr…the partner’s voice. I will never forget it,” Melissa confessed.

“So, you started making waves,” he said.

“Yes.”

“So, that’s why I hired you,” Magnus told her. “And I expect you to do the same thing here.”

She snapped her gaze to his.

“There is something going on in my town. Now, I’m not saying the park rangers are involved, but if they are, I’ll take them down. You’re going to help me.”

“I will.” Melissa nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” Magnus said. “Let me introduce you to Deputy Wilson. He’ll bring you up to speed.”

“I’m excited to get started,” she told him. It was the truth.

“One more thing.” Magnus rose from the desk.

“Yes?”

“Were you sleeping with Adam or the partner?”

Damn, how does he know? Melissa turned to face her boss. “The partner.”

“The shifter,” Magnus clarified.

She nodded.

“And what happened with him?”

“Nothing I’m proud of,” she said.

Magnus walked over then shocked her by patting her shoulder. “We all make mistakes. But at least I understand more now. I’m happy to have you as part of the team.”