Mitch

Chapter 1 Holy s**t. I really stepped into it this time. What the hell is that? Mitch clutched his fists, opened up all his senses, and tried to steady his racing heart. A deep breath didn’t do much as he stared into the eyes of a mythical creature, at least he thought it was. Apparently, stories had it wrong. Winged lions did exist. This one could only be described as huge. The tawny hide covered him from head to the tip of his tail. Reddish-brown wings tipped in black sprang out from both sides. Even folded they were impressive. Spread out, Mitch knew they’d rival a city bus in length. Amazing and awe-inspiring. He would have been more so if the beast didn’t stare at him like he’d been living on seaweed for a month and Mitch was a rare steak. Those piercing dark eyes cut Mitch down to the core and sized him up as a brunch snack. The massive head promised sharp teeth which could fillet him at will. His inner beast, the caracal side, hinted that this might be a good time to either flee or fight. Neither had much chance of success—not against such a monstrous animal like this one. Of course, he’d been closing in on his destination—a wildlife preserve in the middle of nowhere. A recommendation and an invite brought him to this point where his old, beat-up white truck sputtered and died. With no bars on his phone, Mitch had climbed out of the driver’s seat, shut the door, and prepared to stare under the hood, though he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. That’s when he looked up and saw the creature. “Hi.” He stood straighter and aimed for civilly pleasant. “I’m trying to locate the Bluebird Valley Preserve check-in station.” The beast eyed him for a long moment before speaking. “And you are?” The words came out a bit growly, but Mitch understood completely, though stunned that the big guy could form human speech in his presently shifted form. “Mitch. Mitch Capers. I spoke with someone last week about dropping by for a visit.” He wracked his brain. “Nate, I think.” The lion snorted. Mitch picked up the scent of minty breath. Not what he expected. Fresh kill would have been more along the lines of what Mitch was thinking. Certainly not toothpaste. Goes to show that some critters are meticulous in caring for their teeth, I guess. The lion sat down, his tail swishing lightly against the dirt road cut out of the thick woods surrounding them. Mitch swallowed and maintained eye contact. The only way to deal with predators was to stand up to them. Earn their respect. Although, staring at this big guy gave him the urge to lay down and roll over. Odd, since he was a cat shifter, not a silly canine always in search of a ball or a good bone. Roped muscles rippled under the lion’s skin. A thick mane in deep brown circled the animal’s neck, adding to the enormous presence while matching the hue of the tuft of fur at the end of his tail. Idly, Mitch wondered if the tail served as a rudder when flying. What the hell am I thinking? Here he stood in front of a beast straight from the pages of ancient mythology, one who appeared hungry and quite capable of gulping him down in three bites or less. Large even for a lion, the creature impressed in all kinds of ways. “Keep going straight. About a quarter mile up, you’ll see a log cabin on your right. Next to it, there’s construction going on. Ask for Nate. He’ll be there.” The lion stood and spread his wings. “f*****g amazing.” Mitch thought he saw the winged lion grin ever so slightly. The beast turned away. “Wait. Who are you?” The lion glanced back. “Thor. That’s all you need to know.” “But my truck. It died and won’t start.” “It will now.” With that, he took to the air. Fascinated, Mitch watched him fly off, Thor’s mighty wings beating a slow, powerful rhythm to launch him into the air and send him darting through the partially cloudy sky. His flight was smooth, steady, and graceful. Not a single waver or bobble. Just a beast meant to soar to the heavens. “Holy crap.” He rubbed his face, pinched himself, then started walking. A dream couldn’t carry responsibility for such an experience. This was reality. Albeit an odd one. His gut told him there were many more surprises to come. No sense standing around. With that thought, he returned to the driver’s seat, cranked the engine, and shook his head when not only did it start, but purred like a happy kitten, too. He nudged the vehicle in gear and started on his trek, noting the abundance of forest on either side. Every now and again, he’d glimpse what appeared to be a log cabin tucked in the trees. Rustic came to mind. Yet, something about the place called to him and his inner cat. The isolation, the natural setting. Even the mingling scents of other shifters added an element of curiosity rather than an off-putting warning. Finding an empty gravel driveway, he parked his truck, pocketed the keys, and grabbed his sole suitcase from the passenger’s side. From there, he let his senses direct him. He heard the telltale sounds of the construction Thor spoke of long before he viewed the place. Hammers and machinery led him to the spot. Sure enough, a well-marked trail veered off from the road. Mitch followed it, emerging between a large log cabin and a work zone. Four men worked the site. All were erecting walls on what appeared to be a new building in progress. Mitch sniffed the air. Definitely shifters, but he didn’t have a clue what kind they were. Weird, since he’d been around those of his kind all along. Obviously, there were a few different varieties he’d never encountered before. Like that flying lion. “Hello.” Mitch focused his attention on a tall man with light-colored hair. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt. Dark colored boots completed the outfit. Typical attire for working in the fall weather. The guy drew closer. “You must be Mitch.” Mitch blinked. He’d only spoken to one man on the phone. No pictures had been sent nor had he indicated who he was in his simple greeting. Yet, the man knew his name. A little hesitant, Mitch gave a single nod. “Yep. And you are?” “Nate. We spoke last week.” Mitch saw the amusement in the other man’s face. His brown eyes reflected kindness mixed with mischief. Seemingly Nate found Mitch’s surprise at being called by name somewhat humorous. “Yeah. How did you know it was me?” Nate shrugged. “We don’t get many visitors up here.” “I guess not.” “Let’s go inside. We’ll go over some things, first. I’ll show you around, then we’ll see about getting you settled in.” What have I gotten myself into? Mitch wondered, not for the first time, if he’d just entered the Twilight Zone. A little scary, but his inner beast wasn’t agitated like he became when danger threatened. In truth, he believed the big guy napped contentedly. Very unusual considering he’d just entered a new territory. One filled with strangers. Shifters, no less. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite.” Nate chuckled. “Uh-huh.” Mitch blew out a breath and kept pace with the guy. He sized him up, coming up empty on what type of shifter he was. “What are you?” “I’m Nate. I thought we established that.” Nate offered up a lopsided grin. Mitch rolled his eyes. “I mean what sort of shifter. I can’t place the scent.” Nate smiled wider. “You’ll figure it out. We do have quite the assortment here. Makes for never a dull moment.” Oh, great. He’s a smart ass and I’ve entered the Emerald City minus the horse of a different color. Only shifters. Some of them bound to be high-level predators. Just my damn luck. “Orientation 101.” Nate led Mitch to a wooden building with a sign reading Office hung on the outside wall. He opened the door and gestured Mitch inside. “We’ll go over some of the basics. You decide that you want to stick around after that, I’ll show you to a cabin.” “Stick around after that? What does this orientation entail exactly? A quick reproduction of the Roman Gladiator games?” Nate laughed, the sound pleasing to the ears and contagious. His eyes lit up with amusement. “I guess you’ll see.” A wolfish grin followed. Mitch groaned to himself. With nowhere else to go, he followed Nate into a side room. “Have a seat.” Nate gestured to a table with a handful of old metal chairs. Mitch set his suitcase down, pulled out the first chair, and sat down. “Why do I feel like I’m back in school?” Nate powered up a computer on a table in the front of the room. A white picture appeared on a large screen. “This will be a short course. You seem to be pretty smart, so I doubt you’ll have to take notes.” Mitch leaned back in the hard seat, crossed his arms, and waited. In a few seconds, the first slide of a PowerPoint presentation popped up. “Here we go.” Nate grabbed a remote, stepped to the side, and propped his hip on the other end of the table, turning so he could easily see both the screen and Mitch without moving. “As you probably already know Bluebird Valley Animal Preserve is a place for all to live. Shifters and wild animals alike. We don’t advertise ourselves, but don’t turn away anyone in need, either.” Nate focused on Mitch. “However, there are a few rules to staying here that everyone must follow. There is no leeway.” He made the last statement clear. “Sounds like summer camp. Don’t go swimming without a buddy. Stay out of the poison ivy. Clean up after yourself.” Nate’s lips twitched. “You have a sarcastic streak.” Mitch shrugged. Sure, he had a chip on his shoulder. All part of the persona he put on for the world to see. It kept people at arm’s length, which is where he preferred they stay. “Okay, moving on.” Nate clicked the button. A picture of a front gate came into view. “Bluebird Valley Preserve is just that—a preserve. No eating the inhabitants, either shifter or wild.” He showed a few more slides, mostly of the various types of animals that presumably inhabited the refuge. “We oversee three thousand acres in this range. Wildlife conservation is our primary focus. With habitat decreasing, we’re maintaining a strong foothold for wild animals. Deer. Moose. Buffalo. All the usual ones you’d suspect live here. Even a small, but healthy wolf pack.” “Shifter or otherwise?” “Otherwise. Though there are several wolf shifters around.” Mitch peered up at the screen as a picture of a lion pair appeared. No wings on those specimens. “We also serve as a rescue for exotic animals. We’ve taken in several, nursed them back to health, and let them run free in the preserve.” Mitch lifted his eyebrows. “Interesting. How do you keep the lions from eating the deer?” “Natural selection isn’t a bad thing. We normally let nature take its course. With predators out there, the herds are healthier. We just have to watch the numbers and manage them.” “Cool.” Mitch appreciated the scope of the organization’s reach. Not only did they serve shifters, they also took up the call to save animals. That goal rang true with Mitch. “Which is another reason shifters aren’t allowed to hunt the local wildlife. With about twenty or thirty shifters at any point in time, that could make a large dent in the herds. So, hard rule. No eating the wildlife.” Nate’s voice grew stern. Mitch nodded slowly. “What about vermin?” Nate blinked at him and then slowly grinned. “If that’s your thing, go for it. I don’t think we’ll worry too much about the mice and rat population falling below acceptable limits. Hell, if you want to take out a few mosquitoes, too, we’ll all be happy.” Mitch personally couldn’t quite bring himself to hunt vermin in his animal form, though that would have been the caracal’s natural prey. He’d much rather be in the kitchen preparing any number of delicious meals, instead. “Okay, now on to the rules.” Rules? Another reminder of summer camp. Mitch grimaced. He hadn’t really fit in well with human kids. Hell, still didn’t mix with the adults much either. Even his own kind tended to avoid him. Sure, part of it was the natural aloofness that caracal cats preferred. Another reason, the biggest in his opinion, was his s****l orientation. He was gay. In some groups that fact would have gotten the tar beat out of him. At least his family hadn’t lowered themselves to that level. Instead, they simply distanced themselves from him. Sending him off to school hundreds of miles from home. Encouraging him to travel and see the world well away from their home. Other caracals moved to the other side of the street to avoid coming too close to him, as if he carried a lethal, contagious disease. Of course, that could have been for a third reason. One that Mitch didn’t care to think about. Either way, he’d gotten the picture way back when, seen the sights of many places, and finally landed in Bluebird Valley. He’d heard of the preserve from a couple of other shifters who’d spent time there. They’d met there, bonded, and opted to make their own way in the world. The couple, both females, spoke of happy times at the place, how they were accepted, encouraged, and respected—something they hadn’t really enjoyed ever before. He found the idea refreshing and opted to give the place a try. They hooked him up with the information, gave him a number to call, and a name as a resource person. Mitch had done that last week. Now, he sat in the administration building learning the dos and don’ts of living in the park. “Rule number one. No eating the herbivores. Shifter or otherwise. I believe we’ve covered that already.” Nate clicked his button, changing the picture to one of cabins lined up along a walkway. “Rule number two. Everyone works here. Either you take up a job on the grounds, work with the conservation agents, the construction crew, or take a position in town. No freeloading.” Nate appraised him for a long moment. “Do you happen to have any big cat whisperer skills?” Mitch shook his head. “Nope. But, I’m a trained chef.” Surprise flashed across Nate’s face. “Chef, not cook?” “Chef. I’ve worked in a few five-star restaurants in my time.” “Glory hallelujah. You fix some of those foods and you’ll be the most popular guy around.” Mitch grinned. “I take it you need some help in the kitchen.” “Yep. And you’re it.” Nate smiled. “Where were we? Oh, yeah. Rule three.” He changed the picture to show a large grizzly standing in a meadow. “Don’t mess with the bear during hibernation. She will kick your ass when she wakes up. And she’ll have weeks to plan ways to tear you apart, piece by piece.” “Good to know.” Mitch made a mental note to avoid her. The next slide showed a solid pristine white horse with a horn on its head. Mitch gaped. “Rule four. Yes, the unicorn has a big horn. He was born that way. Yes, he’s heard all the jokes already. They get old. He has a temper. Don’t mess with him. Shifter ER isn’t a fun place to visit.” “Holy, s**t. You really have a unicorn here?” Nate smirked. “Unicorn shifter. Thaddeus. I’m sure you’ll meet him at some point. He’s a little arrogant and full of himself. That’s just him. Comes with the having the big horn. Play nice.” Mitch chuckled. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Not for the first time he wondered where he’d ended up. The lion with the wings was shocking enough. But, to learn there’s a unicorn, too. Absolutely amazing. “Rule number five. Moose have hard heads and even harder hooves. Antlers inflict hurt. That’s all I have to say about them.” He punched the button again showing a big bull moose standing in the reeds. “Rule number six. If you’re busy getting your itch scratched, that’s great. Just do it in private. The community park isn’t the local peep show. Trust me, we’ve seen it already. Don’t need to again.” Nate shot him a look. Mitch blankly stared back. He’d had his fair share of interludes and one-night-stands but getting it on in public never was one of his fantasies. “Don’t think you have to worry about that one.” “Good.” Nate turned back to the front. “Rule number seven.” He put up a picture of an adorable baby elephant standing next to her mother. “This is Angel. She was born here a couple of weeks ago.” “Cute.” “Very much so. Her mother is a little protective as is Kier, the elephant shifter male. Watch from afar, but don’t get too close. Trampling is a distinct possibility. If that happens, we just dig a hole right there and drop you in.” Mitch rubbed his forehead. “You’re telling me…” Disgust covered Nate’s face. “No. He’s not the father. We’re not into experimentation. Not that kind.” He narrowed his eyes at Mitch. “Fool around with other shifters if you want but leave the poor wildlife alone.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As if.” He might be horny at times, but never once did he look at a goat and get turned on. Good gods. “You really have to tell new people not to screw the animals?” Nate sighed. “You’d be surprised.” “Some wacky people out there.” “Don’t remind me.” Nate sat up straighter. “Okay. Last rule. Casual Friday is just that. Casual. Casual is not naked. Enough said.” What the hell? I really have entered the Twilight Zone or a nudist colony filled with horny shifters, one of the two. The locals are all hot to trot, put their f**k sessions on display, all when they aren’t trying to eat the other inhabitants. Mitch shook his head, reeling from his experiences thus far. “Let me get this straight. Consider this a summer camp where the shifters work and relax during their time off. Playtime consists of hide the sausage with a buddy, spying on the elephant shifter and his herd, and chasing the unicorn shifter.” “Make it fall camp and sort of.” Nate’s lips twitched. “We’re an odd bunch, but it works. As long as people are accepting, follow the rules, and stick to the mission.” “What mission?” Mitch sat forward, anticipating the answer. “Saving all kinds of beasts.” “Okay.” He could understand wildlife conservation—a cause he completely agreed with. It was the rest of the orientation that perplexed him. “Why do I get the impression that when someone goes into heat, the rest do as well?” Nate chuckled. “Full moons are interesting.” He stood back up. “Do you have any questions?” Yeah, what rabbit hole did I fall into? “So, what happens to the people that don’t want to stay or the ones that screw up?” Mitch thought about the two female shifters that pointed him to this place. They seemed well and sane. Nate returned to the remote to where he found it. “For those who are deemed worthy, they are allowed to come and go at will. We’re not a prison and no one is keeping you here if you don’t want to be.” Mitch filed that information. “What about those that eat the local wildlife?” “They are exiled.” Mitch narrowed his eyes. “That’s it? Just kicked out?” Nate tilted his head. “Are you thinking about breaking rule number one already?” “Nope. Just thought I should hear the fine print before making a decision.” Nate studied him for a long moment. “While we cater to unusual beings, don’t believe that it’s more than that. No cults. No crap. We offer a home in exchange for hard work, turning away no one. But, if someone has, shall we say, tendencies that puts others in danger, they are escorted away.” Mitch tried to wrap his mind around what that meant. “Escorted? As in straight to a volcano and dropped in?” Nate grinned wide. “That would be telling.” “Uh-huh.” The only thing that kept Mitch from walking away was the certain knowledge that he had nothing to fear. His gut and his inner cat both were calm and content. The place felt right. Hell, the two men he’d met thus far, however mind-boggling, hadn’t set his survival instincts into overdrive or set off alarms in his head. Considering how uncomfortable he typically felt about others, that said something. Another query popped into his head. “Tell me one thing. How do you know I’m not some psychotic serial killer or something like that?” “Simple. Thor let you pass.” “The winged lion. He’s your guardian?” Nate stared walking toward the exit. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Mitch knew the man wasn’t going to answer any questions about Thor. He shelved them. For now. After grabbing his suitcase, he followed Nate back outside. A tall, lanky man with light-colored hair froze when he caught sight of Nate and Mitch. He twerked his butt, as if forgetting he didn’t have a tail in this form, then bent over, dug a hole with his hands, and dropped a nut inside. Task done, he covered up the hole, stood up straight, and twerked his rear again. Mitch frowned. “He’s…different.” “Theory is he fell out of a tree and landed on his head.” “Is that what you think?” Mitch kept moving, resisting the urge to glance behind him at the odd fellow. Nate shrugged. “He’s a squirrel shifter. Who knows what passes for normal for them?” “Wonderful.” I’ve landed in the shifter psych ward. “Come on. I’ll take you on a tour of the grounds before dropping you at your cabin.” Nate gestured toward a Jeep a short distance away. “Got to have you back in plenty of time to cook dinner.” Mitch groaned. “Entering the slave pit on day one, huh?” “Oh, yeah.” Nate grinned. A small detail came to Mitch’s attention. “If you don’t allow hunting, then where do you get the meat for meals?” “Farms. We have contracts with some local farms to supply things like eggs, chickens, turkeys, and beef. Venison we get now and again when road kill happens. Since our people are the conservation agents, they are Johnny on the spot of those kinds of things.” “That must cost a pretty penny. Feeding twenty plus people.” Mitch couldn’t wrap his mind around how the preserve could pay for such things. “We’re pretty much self-sufficient otherwise. Wind and solar power. Our own wells. Even have a huge garden to raise our own vegetables and spices. The other things, we buy, of course.” “No offense, but I can’t see a wildlife rescue bringing in tons of cash. Especially since I didn’t see anything about tourists.” Mitch rubbed his chin as they neared the vehicle. Nate eyed him for a second. “We have some gracious donors. Others chip in. We’re not immensely wealthy, but we do okay.” Mitch read the tension in Nate’s body well enough to pick up the hint. Nate wasn’t comfortable discussing the budget or sources of income. He couldn’t blame him. After all, they’d known one another for not even an hour including the short phone conversation last week. He decided to table his nosiness and bring out the largest worry he carried about his impending stay. Mentally, he braced himself for the fleeting expression of repugnance, the blatant rejection. After all, he’d seen it enough. “I think there’s something you should know about me.” “Hmm?” Nate jumped into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. Mitch gathered his courage. “I’m gay.” He paused on the passenger’s side of the vehicle, placed his suitcase in the back, then waited. Nate spared him a glance. “And?” “And that’s it. I’m gay.” “Most of the shifters here are. We’ve got a handful of straights and a few more than that who are bi. Not a big deal with us.” The news buoyed Mitch’s confidence in a major way. “Good to know.” He slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled his seat belt. “Where I came from that’s a rarity.” “Yeah. Been there, done that.” Nate pulled keys out of his pocket and cranked the engine. “That’s one thing you don’t have to concern yourself with around here. We have all types. Introverts. Extroverts. Assholes and sweethearts. But, the one thing they have in common is they don’t give a damn if you’re gay, straight, bi, have a fetish for purple-haired gorilla suits, or have some perverted obsession with down pillows and plastic blow-up dolls. They look at the real person, not which side of the fence you stand on.” Mitch pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Purple-hair gorilla suits and plastic blow-up dolls?” “Don’t judge.” “Not about to.” Mitch held up his hands. “Considering we’re going to see the unicorn and elephant shifter, who am I to say anything?” Nate flashed him a grin. “That’s the spirit.” He hit the gas, sending them on their way. Oh, yeah. I’ve landed in Bedlam. No doubt about it.