Chapter Twenty-Two

In Which a Werewolf Gets Ripped a New One

T he arbitrator isn’t available on Tuesday or even the Tuesday after that. By the time it’s all said and done, we’ve spent three weeks caring for Jada before the arbitrator can hear the case.

She’s so very adorable and yet so very exhausting. How Jacqueline and Lugh have done this twice and are willing to do it again is beyond me.

I walk into court with the deepest, darkest circles under my eyes. Even Marcus, who never sleeps, looks exhausted.

Thankfully, the arbitrator is not a wolf like I imagined, but rather a tall Gobelin woman with a perfect bun. Her title may be arbitrator, but she wears the judge’s black gown. Everything else is different from a traditional courtroom. She sits at a desk instead of a bench at the same height as everyone else. Two tables have been placed lengthwise just in front of her desk with a large space in between, so that they face each other.

At the table on my right sits Randy and Zach Lamar and a woman close to Randy’s age. If I had to guess, this is the Luna of the pack–Zach’s mother, Zelda. She has the same dark, luxurious hair as the Lamar boys. At the opposite table sits a man in his late fifties–the CPS representative for the county, having made it back from the funeral. Marcus and I sit with Baby Jada in chairs that have been set up in a strange sort of audience section. One whole side is full of wolves. I’ve met most of these people working at the Wild Hare, but there are few I’m unfamiliar with.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, we are here to decide custody for the minor child, Jane Doe. From what I understand, Mr. Marcus Jones found the child abandoned in the baby safe box at a decommissioned firehouse that he now resides in. He brought the child to the Wild Hare, and a member of the Lamar pack claimed it as their own. A dispute ensued in which a member of the Lamar Pack, Zander Lamar, attempted to attack Marcus Jones and a witch ended up incinerating the bar in a messy attempt at defending Mr. Jones.” She looks up from her paperwork. “Have I left anything out?”

“Your honor,” Zach says. “Zander is expecting his own child very soon and the smell of the infant may have triggered his dormant protective instincts, especially when the child was being taken from him.”

She looks over the top of her glasses at him. “And you are?”

“Zach Lamar, future Alpha of the Lamar pack.”

“Future?” she eyes him for a moment. “Young man, how old are you?”

He clears his throat. “Uh, I’ll be twenty-eight next month.”

“Your frontal lobe is pretty well developed at this point. Why are you not Alpha yet?”

He looks taken aback by the question. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve been busy. My Luna and I are planning our wedding.”

“And before that?”

“I don’t know. I just always felt Randy did a better job. Why change things when what we had was working?”

She eyes them both. “Randy Lamar, you are the current Alpha of the Lamar pack? So I’m assuming this is your son.”

“I am the current Alpha, but this is not my son. He’s my nephew. Our true Alpha died when his children were small. I was his Beta and had to take over.”

She looks back over at Zach. “Werewolf practice is that in situations where a Beta has to step in for an Alpha, the true Alpha will take his place at twenty-one. Are you aware of this custom?”

Zach nods, “Yes, your honor.”

“So why have you not?”

There is silence for a long moment. A few people move about in their chair, but no one says a word.

“I’m not sure, your honor.”

She looks up and meets Randy’s gaze. “Randy Lamar, sir, what business are you in?”

He sits up straighter in his seat, “I own the Wild Hare Ranch.”

“My understanding is that the Alpha often financially supports a lot of the pack. Is that the case here?”

“Not financially supported directly anymore, but a lot of my pack works for me, yes,” Randy admits.

She looks around the room and motions with her head toward the side of the room packed with Lamars. “All these people are receiving a paycheck from your one business?”

“Mostly, your honor.”

She makes some notes on her paper, the sound of the pen against the paper echoes in the room as everyone waits for what she’ll say next.

“So as I understand it, Mr. Jones is the owner of the old fire station. He was under the impression the safe baby box was sealed. It however, was not, and he heard the alarm go off Friday afternoon? Is that correct, Mr. Jones?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“It says, andI’m reading directly from Deputy Moreau’s report, there was a note with the child that stated Steely at the Wild Hare would know what to do. So he brought the child to the Wild Hare to see if she knew the child’s identity, and she did not. While there, Zander Lamar, future Beta of the Lamar pack, asked to hold the baby. He then discovered that the child smelled like a member of the pack and became agitated. When Mr. Jones asked for the child back, Zander Lamar lunged at him. At which point, his girlfriend, Steely, turned the bar to ash. Deputy Moreau’s husband happened to be on the scene and restrained Zander Lamar until deputies arrived on the scene.”

“Mr. Lamar,” she clears her throat, “I’m addressing Zach Lamar, specifically. If I rule in your pack’s favor, who will be caring for the minor child?”

“I will, your honor,” Zelda Lamar says.

“And you are?”

“Zelda Lamar, Luna of the Lamar pack.”

“Are you ready to start over with a newborn?”

“She is ours,” is all Zelda says.

“Alright then. I will begin the scent match.” She stands from where she is and a bailiff takes her robe from her. Underneath, she wears a perfectly tailored gray pants suit. The bailiff proceeds her to the table with Zach, Randy, and Zelda.

“Present your left hand, wrist side up. Do not move it until I tell you to do so,” the human bailiff tells them. He takes Zach’s hand in his own and holds it tightly with both hands as the arbitrator leans to smell his wrist. Slowly she continues down the table, taking in Randy’s and Zelda’s scent as well. She looks up in our direction.

“May I have the child?” Marcus stands and moves toward the arbitrator, offering her Jada.

“I’m sorry. We, uh, washed her before we came with baby soap,” Marcus says to her, but she just nods her head.

“I’d expect nothing less. Cradle crown is ridiculous at this age. Don’t worry, I’ll still be able to find what I’m looking for.” Gingerly, she takes Jada, adjusting her blanket and holding her close. She leans in to sniff the baby’s head. “Ah, I miss this age,” she murmurs to the baby. “But not the lack of sleep.”

She turns to the CPS representative at the front of the room. “Please note in her file, a scent match is determined to exist between this child and the Lamar pack.” There is an audible sigh of relief from the Lamar side of the room. She looks back at her bailiff and nods toward the back. “The strongest match is between Zach Lamar and this child, but it is not exact. I would like all of your siblings and any mates they have in this room to stay, so I can sort this out further. Your mother should not be burdened with late nights because her sons are irresponsible.” She looks out at the small crowd. “I would like the rest of the Lamar Pack to wait outside, please.”

People on the Lamar side begin to shuffle reluctantly out. I’m not sure what Marcus and I have done that allows us to stay, but I’m grateful to have a front-row seat at the drama.

Two young men that have the Lamar look to them move up to the front to stand with the three Lamar brothers I know–Zach, Zander, and Alyssa’s boyfriend, Zane. Red, Zach’s fiance, reaches out for his hand as she moves through the crowd. Zander has a protective arm around a very pregnant Nolig, while the other Lamars stand close by.

“Bailiff, I’m ready.”

The bailiff locks the door and proceeds to the front of the room. “Please form a single file line. Once your wrist has been tested, you need to sit in the very front row of seats until you are called.”

Obediently, the Lamars men and their women form a line, stepping up in turn so that the arbitrator can register their scent. The arbitrator finishes her testing, a neutral expression on her face and turns to the bailiff, “Will you bring the current Alpha and Luna back in here, please?”

“Would you like me to take the baby back to Mr. Jones?” the bailiff asks the arbitrator.

She shakes her head. “I’m baby borrowing, Neil. Leave me to it.” The bailiff chuckles and calls Zelda and Randy back in. Everyone settles into their original spots, except this time, all the Lamars who can’t fit at the table nearest to the arbitrator fill the front row.

“Zach Lamar, obviously, I’m not a wolf, and I don’t pretend to understand pack dynamics, but I feel like a lot of this could have been avoided had you been more involved in your pack. I cannot make decisions for you, but your uncle and mother have carried this burden far too long. It is perhaps time to have a talk about a transfer of responsibility. You should be the leader and example for your pack. Pregnancies, even unplanned ones, should not be a surprise to you at all. I’m almost certain had one of the employees of your establishment–what is it–the Wild Hare?--fallen pregnant, you would have known right away. That this happened in your own pack is inexcusable.”

She takes a breath and looks down at the baby. “Should you decide to have children of your own one day, you’ll understand how guidance and education in matters like sex is vitally important. All the young people of your pack should understand how pregnancy happens and how to prevent it, long before they have found a girlfriend or boyfriend.”

Zach tilts his head as she speaks and my gut drops as it dawns on me what she’s talking about. I can’t believe I missed the signs–the non-stop peanut butter sandwiches and the crochet blanket–how did I not know Alyssa was pregnant?

I turn to look at Zane as everyone else’s eyes are focused on the Gobelin. He’s either got an amazing poker face or has absolutely no clue.

“Please let the record show that the scent match is that of Zane Lamar. Zane, do you have a mate?”

He stands up, looking stunned. “I, uh, have a girlfriend.”

“Where is she?”

He turns bright red and swallows hard.

“Where is she, Zane?” Zelda asks.

“I, uh, took her to the cabin. Her dad kicked her out on her birthday.”

The arbitrator raises an eyebrow. “How old is she?”

“Eighteen.”

“Were you aware that she was pregnant?” the arbitrator asks.

He shakes his head. “No, ma’am. She never told me anything.”

“Not to be crass, Zane, but I’m presuming you have a sexual relationship with her? You never noticed changes in her body?”

“No, ma’am. I mean she never looked pregnant.”

The arbitrator sighs and says nothing for a long moment, leaving us in suspense.

Finally, she turns to Zach. “As there is no indication that this was a medically assisted birth and the father of the child wasn’t even aware, I’m going to presume that a teenager gave birth on her own. Mr. Lamar, I have had three children myself as an adult woman in a hospital with a full support staff and my husband by my side. She delivered alone. I cannot imagine the absolute fear and pain she endured. Alone. It is a miracle they are both here, alive and safe. This is what I want you to think of as you take on your role as Alpha.”

She turns to the caseworker sitting at the desk. “I’m granting physical custody of baby Jane Doe for ninety days to Zelda Lamar with joint legal custody to her father, Zane Lamar. DNA testing will be set up to confirm maternity and paternity, so we can have it on file when they come before the judge after the holidays.”

“I expect that the Lamar pack will have proper accommodations arranged for the mother of this child by the end of the day. We will see mom, dad, grandma, and Zach Lamar in family court in ninety days. That should give you some time to get your pack sorted, Mr. Lamar.”

She takes a deep breath. “I have one more matter before me and that’s the hopefully less dramatic matter of the destruction of property charge against one of your employees.”

“We will not be pressing charges, your honor. Randy and I feel she was defending herself and her mate,” Zach says from his table.

“Be that as it may, uncontrolled displays of power from adult witches cannot be unaddressed Steely? Sarah? Which is it? Were you the person referred to in the note left with the baby? The one she knew would help her baby?”

I stand uncertainly. “My legal name is Sarah. Steely is my stage name, and, yes, ma’am, I’m the one she was referring to.”

“How did you come to know her?”

“We were in our witch apprenticeship together.”

The arbitrator raises an eyebrow. “That is a very late apprenticeship.”

“I was adopted and unaware that I was a witch until I was attacked at work a few weeks ago.”

“Interesting. And what do you do at the Wild Hare?”

“I’m a dancer, your honor.”

She nods. “As the owners of the property you destroyed do not see fit to press charges, I do not see the need to pass this matter onto the district attorney. Anything else?” She looks around. The room is silent, the Lamar side of the room still stunned. “Neil?”

“All rise,” the bailiff calls.

We all stand as the arbitrator carries the baby to Zelda Lamar. “Congratulations, grandma. Best of luck to you all.” She turns and floats out of the room, ridiculously graceful for someone taller than most of the men in the room.

Marcus turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “So.”

“So,” I repeat.

“That was…something.”

“Yep. It sure was.”

He stands and offers me a hand up. “So I’m guessing this is officially the end of your time at the Wild Hare?”

“I think the universe has been telling me that for the last few weeks, I just refused to listen. It’s probably for the best. I’m getting old. They would have definitely put me out to pasture with Ramona soon enough.”

Marcus rolls his eyes and chuckles. I turn to head to the door, only to be stopped by Zelda Lamar, of all people. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for this family. Both of you. The Lamar pack owes you more than we can ever repay…not just for taking care of the baby, but for being the person Alyssa felt like she could rely on in her time of need.”

I smile awkwardly and nod. “Hopefully, this will be a positive turning point for all of us,” I say diplomatically. I don’t hate the Lamars, but I would not be sad at all to never see them again, especially when Zander keeps his distance from us instead of offering an apology to Marcus. The rest of the Lamar pack walks by without a word. I’m sure they’re still stunned, but a small part of me cannot get over the sense of mild betrayal, of feeling like I was part of their pack until I became a witch and it became inconvenient.

“You’re quiet,” Marcus says, taking my hand as we get back into his truck.

I pause for too long a moment, trying to put words to it.

“The Lamar pack were the first friends I thought I had here in town. Zander and I used to be close. I was there the night he met his mate, Nolig. It just sucks. He didn’t even offer you an apology.”

He threads our fingers together and rubs his thumb over mine. “Some people’s worlds are very small. He’s the Beta, not the Alpha. His job is to be inner facing–watching the pack, protecting it. It’s the Alpha who is looking outward. In his mind, he did nothing wrong. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“He could have killed you.”

“Not with my badass witch girlfriend at my side.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I think you mispronounced dangerous.”

“Let’s go home. I want to carry you to bed and pass out for the next eight hours because that baby put my normal fucked up sleep patterns to the test.”

“Yesss…sleep.”