Page 30 of Tentacles for Christmas

“Dicks,” Channing grumbled.

“Hey now, I like dicks,” Riley joked back. “They’re more like shit stains.”

“I was thinking of them as douche canoes,” I added and Rowen pulled me into his side.

The entire group started laughing at the banter between me, Riley, and Channing as if we hadn’t just had a tense confrontation.

At that moment, I had the realization that Channing and Riley were probably also wolf shifters. My mind whirled as the twins hopped on their bikes without helmets and revved their engines. Dark smoke billowed out of the exhaust, and I had to assume they weren’t welcome to get tune ups at Motorvated.

The entire group of them had jumped in to defend Rowen and I. No one had even raised their voices or thrown a punch. I was glad for it, since we were at a very public family event. I’d never had the type of community that rallied around people just because someone was cruel to a queer person.

In San Francisco, I had plenty of gay and trans friends, but I also worked six days a week. I never let myself build those connections. Somehow, I found it in Blue Lake with a bunch of shifters.

Tires squealing had us all turning our heads as the twins peeled out and headed north. The sound interrupted the holiday music and cheery conversation of the tree lighting.

As if time stood still, everything went silent besides the sound of their retreating bikes, and then a child’s cry cut through the air.

The eight of us rushed towards the street where traffic was still moving. Rowen grabbed for my hand and pulled me back when I almost stepped in front of a van.

We didn’t need to keep looking, though, because there was a little boy sitting in the middle of the road, sobbing and crying.

I might not be a shifter like Rowen and his friends, but if those assholes hurt a child, I was going to find out where they were and hurt them right back.

Chapter twenty

Rowen

Assoonaswegot rid of one problem, another cropped up. Instead of drunk, posturing bear shifters, it was a small child in trouble. While my pack ran to get the boy off the street, I held Cam back from running out to help.

King, who cradled the boy in his arms while Ricky and Rel ran interference with oncoming traffic, was more than capable of carrying the weight without our assistance.

Riley and Channing were there when King got back to us to wrap the boy in one of their jackets. Gramps and Val were making their way over as well. I knew what it was like to be a little kid surrounded by strangers when I was scared, and he hadn’t stopped crying.

Once I no longer had to worry about my m–Cam–going off and getting run over, I kneeled down and took in the boy’s state. His clothes were clean, so he was well-cared for, but his sweater wasn’t thick enough for the temperatures, barely above freezing. His dirty-blond hair was half-hidden under a winter hat, and his brown eyes were half-closed from crying so hard.

“Hi there, buddy. What’s your name?”

Theboy hiccupped and stuttered, still scared. “C-C-Connor.”

“Do you know where your parents are, Connor?”

Connor immediately started wailing again, which was harsh on my ears. The others stepped back except for Cam, who didn’t have super hearing. Cam crouched beside me and put a hand on my back as if in support.

People were standing around filming, as if a scared child was some kind of spectacle to be gawked at. I gave King a look and gestured towards the crowd with my head. He got my meaning and started backing everyone up. The others helped and Val announced it was time for presents.

“If everyone will make their way to the tree, it’s time to hand out gifts!”

The onlookers followed, the sounds of excited children picking back up again. Gramps and Dad started to move away as well, both giving us looks of concern.

“Hey, Superman,” I got my dad’s attention. “Maybe ask around for anyone missing a kid?”

Dad nodded and helped Gramps navigate the uneven ground. Cam and I didn’t try to touch the boy, with Channing and Riley staying nearby to create a bubble around him. They were the least threatening looking members of the pack, even though both could shift into wolves. The others likely wanted to help, but we wanted the kid to be calm.

“Are you cold, Connor?” Cam asked, unwrapping the knit scarf from around their neck. Connor didn’t respond, but he shivered under Channing’s leather jacket. “Can I put this on you?”

Connor nodded and Cam wrapped the scarf loosely around his neck and lower face. His ears and neck were covered but his face was not. The boy shivered again.

“Sitting on the ground looks cold, too. Do you want to stand up and look for your parents?”