One final moment of pause, and then Zeke’s form flickered again, blurring into a rawboned young wolf. Ryder followed, and a second later, the two of them were bounding away into the woods.
Misty looked at the minor explosives in Ty’s hands, then at him. “That went better than I was expecting. How’d you do it?”
“Element of surprise,” Ty said. “I’m an unknown quantity. And a big scary one, at that. Plus, teenaged boys like that usually respond better to male authority figures than female. I’m willing to bet that they’ve got strict dads.”
“They did,” said Misty. “I arrested them both a month ago. Zeke and Ryder have been nothing but trouble ever since.”
Ty took that in. “Well,” he said. “That does make a certain amount of sense.”
“I know it makes sense. What I don’t know is what to do about it. I don’t want to stick the kids in jail six months after the fathers. They’re both still seventeen, but once they’re adults, if they’re still doing as much stupid, dangerous stuff as they are now...” Misty shook her head. “It seems inevitable. Nothing I say is making any difference, and their moms sure aren’t on my side, not after I arrested their husbands.”
Misty had been half-hoping that they might be grateful not to have to live with those violent assholes any longer, but of course they hadn’t been. The bonds of family were too strong.
Which she understood. But it would be so much better if more people prioritized justice.
“I can tell you from experience,” Ty said, “if all they’re running up against is discipline, or people trying to scare them into behaving, it’s not going to get any better. They need community, support. Something constructive to do with their time would help, too.”
Misty frowned. “They responded pretty well to you scaring them into behaving.”
Ty smiled a little. “Temporary measure. If I were working with them long-term, I’d be focusing on being a positive influence. Giving them something good to want, instead of something bad to not want.”
Misty tilted her head, thinking about that.
Her father’s school of law enforcement had been all about what people didn’t want. The sheriff didn’t want disorder, didn’t want pack-based loyalties, didn’t want feuds and violence. On the other hand, the locals didn’t want to get arrested, and sure didn’t want the law sticking its nose into their business. Overall, the previous Sheriff Dale had been able to balance both of those sides into a state of affairs that everyone could—grudgingly—live with.
Was there a better way, though?
***
Ty
Ty watched Misty considering his words. Here was another thing to admire about her—she was a tough, no-nonsense kind of sheriff, he could already tell. He could half-picture the father she talked so reverently about: a stern, humorless law enforcement officer, who wanted order and respect.
Misty had clearly learned those lessons well. But she wasn’t rigid about it. It was easy, sometimes, for police officers to think in black and white. In his years as a social worker, Ty had struggled with that—sometimes people he was trying to help would get in trouble with the law, and it could be hard to get a cop to see that there was more in play than criminal vs. law-abiding citizen.
Misty, though, wanted to make things better. Not just more disciplined, but better.
“Hm,” she said finally. “I don’t know what sort of good things I could come up for them to want to do. They definitely don’t like me very much after last month, so maybe I’m not even the right person to do it.”
“We can talk about it,” Ty suggested. “I’ve got a lot of experience helping kids who’d insist that they don’t need or want any help at all.”
She smiled at him. Her smile lit up the dim forest like it was noon; Ty felt almost dizzy whenever he saw it. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
“Meanwhile,” he said, “where were we?”
The smile took on a competitive edge. “I was about to pull ahead of you and win our race.”
“Oh, were you.” Ty tucked the kids’ firecrackers into his shirt, and concentrated as he shifted, hoping—yes, they came with him, disappearing with his clothes as he took on jaguar form.
Misty was shifting, too, and out of a sense of fair play, Ty waited until she was firmly on all fours before bolting into the woods again. She raced after him.
This was a much shorter run, because the edge of the forest was already almost in sight. It was just as much of a rush, though, running with Misty hot on his heels. He’d been almost flagging when they’d heard the firecrackers before, but now he’d had time to catch his breath, and his jaguar’s sprinting skill was in top form once again.
Still, Misty was hard on his heels, her hooves pounding on a tree stump as she bounded over it, landing just at his tail. Ty put on a hard burst of speed and leaped, landing on all fours smack in the middle of the tiny clearing where they’d started.
Misty skidded to a halt right next to him, and Ty wheeled to face her. Her deer form was delicate and gorgeous, with beautiful markings, fine and agile hooves, and lovely, enormous eyes. Ty drank in the sight of her as he caught his breath. He’d never known a deer shifter before—never even lived anywhere where he’d seen ordinary deer. Her grace was astonishing, even when she’d been galloping at top speed,
Slowly, she shivered, blurred, and became human again. Ty followed suit, never looking away.