Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(2)

Chris couldn't hide his amusement. Jonah and Liam were like kids hoping Mom would marry their soccer coach. Little did they guess how inappropriate the match would be. "Evina and I have never been more than friends."

"But you're great together. All the stations say they wish their first and second functioned as smoothly as you do."

Again, Jonah watched him closely. Shrugging off the effect, Chris clapped him on his thick shoulder. The heat Jonah radiated was typical for shifters. "We'll work it out. Even if Nate weren't alpha, we'd have to adjust to him being in Evina's life. We're used to having her to ourselves. In the meantime, if you have a problem with him, bring it to me. Evina has enough to deal with settling into being a family with him and the cubs."

Jonah held his gaze and then nodded, for which Chris was grateful. If his subordinates had questioned his ability to handle the newcomer, he'd really have been bugged. Authority was a mental game, based as much in belief as muscle to back it up. Chris would go claw-to-claw with anyone he had to, but physical clashes hurt morale, and morale was important in firefighting.

The metropolis where they plied their trade was a "Pocket" city. Located in--but generally invisible to--the human state of New York, Resurrection mixed the mysticism of the land of Faerie with the humans' more stable reality. In a place like this, where a blaze might as easily be magical or mundane, citizens depended on them performing cohesively. Clear heads, clear hearts, clear spirits was the RFD motto.

Cool cats knocked down infernos. Hotheads got their fur singed off.

Liam, the young Irish lunk, was as hotheaded a tiger as Chris had on the crew. Luckily, he respected Chris as much as he did their alpha.

"You got it, boss," he said. "If you can stand Rivera, so can we. And as long as he keeps that gay cocksucker away from us, he won't hear any guff from me."

Chris wasn't prepared for this comment. Realizing his jaw had dropped, he shut it. Resurrection's shifters were notoriously macho. For a wolf to come out as Nate's packmate had was rare. Homosexuals existed of course, probably in the same percentage as among mundanes. Don't ask, don't tell was a survival tactic Chris was familiar with.

"His pack has accepted him," he advised Liam carefully. "Be smart enough--and polite enough--not to insult him where he or they can hear."

"I mean it," he added when Liam pulled a face. "Forget talk like that not being diplomatic. If you act homophobic, people will think you're gay as well."

Chris saw he'd gotten through. Considering his own situation, the irony of his words didn't escape him. He bumped Liam's shoulder with his fist. "He's just a guy. You can like him or not for who he is."

"He's a guy who sucks dick," Liam said, apparently fixated on this horror.

"You like girls who suck dick," Jonah pointed out, too impish to let it lie.

"That's different," Liam retorted stubbornly.

"Sheesh." Chris didn't attempt to stop his eyes from rolling. "Both of you get out of here. I'd have a more intelligent conversation with a gargoyle."

"Can gargoyles be gay?" Jonah wondered as the pair trailed away toward the door to the roof access.

Chris couldn't decide if Jonah entertaining this possibility was a sign of enlightenment. Then again, how enlightened could Chris claim to be? Like a lot of the city's gays, he was firmly closeted. Jonah and Liam had no idea the number of people they looked up to who were attracted to their own genders. Until they did, they had no reason to change their attitudes. Of course, that their attitudes would change wasn't guaranteed. Chris himself wasn't always comfortable with his preference.

Sighing at the dilemma, he returned to stacking leftover bar supplies on the steel handcart. Wolves and tigers had a longstanding and, for the most part, amicable rivalry. Cats comprised the bulk of the RFD, while wolves dominated the police force. Traditionally, firemen were more popular with the public--a fact the RFD didn't let their cop counterparts forget. Grudgingly, Chris gave this particular pack credit for generosity. They'd paid for everything tonight, treating Evina and her tigers like honored guests. Chris had tended bar, and two of their men had pitched in to cook, but other than that all that had been asked of them was that they enjoy themselves.


Freed from Jonah and Liam's distraction, Chris finished packing up quickly. One good shove got the cart's wheels rolling. He was glad Rivera's building had an elevator. Getting this stuff back to his apartment would have been a bear otherwise.

~

Tony Lupone liked to tease his friend and fellow pack member Nate that he should have been the gay one. Nate's slick warehouse conversion loft resembled a spread in a magazine: huge, airy, and almost laughably stylish. It was also laughably neat--at least to someone with Tony's casual outlook on housekeeping.

They were shifters, for goodness sake. A germ or two wouldn't lay them out.

Despite not understanding why it mattered if your guests could eat off the floor, Tony was Nate's friend. Before the newly engaged couple took off with the cubs to conk out at Evina's house, Nate had entrusted Tony with ensuring the party wrapped up safely. Tony had organized rides for over-imbibers, supplied the volunteer cleaners with trash bags, and thanked everyone he got a chance to for coming.

This last was more of an ordeal than Nate or probably anyone realized. Tony was the lowest ranking member of his pack. He didn't mind the position and liked to think he had social skills, but the energy of his wolf--a vibe all shifters were sensitive to--didn't automatically command respect. Though charm and humor were good defenses, they couldn't smooth every bump.