"I told you once already Cletus, I ain't interested in sellin'," Kurt 'Lumber' Jackson said firmly. "The way you keep on about it makes a fella think you got somethin' more goin' on."
Not that Kurt particularly cared what Cletus might have in mind. The Jackson family had lived on the edges of the Moonwood since before the Revolution. If Kurt's generation of that family lived in a beat-up old cabin, well now there had been plenty of hard times to go with the good ones over all those years. Maybe the Jacksons weren't a grand family, in a grand house, but what they had was theirs and so was the land it sat on. That was enough for Kurt.
"Don't try to be clever, Kurt," Cletus Harris snapped.
"Never figured myself for clever, Cletus," Kurt scoffed. "But I got the brains God gave me and the good sense to use 'em. You might try it sometime."
"Well use your brains on this," Cletus snarled. "I'm makin' you a fair offer on this land... and you're gonna sell. You can do it today or you can do it tomorra' after maybe some'tin happens. Then maybe this land don't fetch quite as nice a price as I'm offerin' now."
"You threatenin' me, Cletus?" Kurt asked hotly. "You mean to say you're comin' all the way up from the Harbor, to try 'n bully me into sellin' our land?"
"There now, you're gettin' it," Cletus said evilly. "And you sayin' you ain't a clever man."
"Where 're you even gettin' that kind of money?" Kurt asked. "You ain't gonna tell me you got all that rich, not even with you sellin' meth."
"Oh, I got plenty o' money," Cletus sneered. "I'm offerin' you a good deal... and I'm givin' you one last chance, here 'n now, to say yes. If I gotta come back..."
"You ain't comin' back up here 'n makin' any trouble for anyone, Cletus," Kurt said confidently.
"Who's gonna stop me?" Cletus grinned back. "You?"
"Nope," Kurt smiled. "Hey, there Rory. Lou, Demarco, Etta."
"Hey, Kurt. Hey, Cletus." Rory Oaklow smiled at Cletus, and only a fool would mistake the powerfully built woman's smile for anything but the feral baring of teeth it was. "Is there a problem here?"
"Well, Rory, I'm thinkin' there might be," Kurt said. Rory hadn't always been the easiest neighbor to have, he reflected, but by God, she was a good one to have on your side.
"This ain't your business, Rory," Cletus said firmly.
"It's my people," Rory said passionately. "My town. My mountain. That makes it my business. Wildfang business. You don't mess with Wildfang business, Cletus."
"No, Rory, you don't mess with my business. Not anymore," Cletus snarled.
"Cletus, Cletus, Cletus. I'm sure we talked about this the last time your boys tried to build one of your meth labs in my territory," Rory said, her voice lowering into a growl. "You remember... the fire, the explosion. Those boys you sent up afterward ending up in the hospital. My brother Jake insisted on that, you know. Those boys owe him a 'thank you.' Me, I would have left them in the woods... for the wolves."
"You don't know who you're messing with, Rory," Cletus blustered.
"But you do," Rory snarled, something feral and dangerous showing itself in every line of her powerful body. "You know exactly who you're messing with. So... Get The Hell Off My Mountain!"
"Thanks Rory," Kurt said, breathing a sigh of relief as he watched Cletus and his boy Jed hightailing it away. No sir, he thought again, werewolves don't always make for easy neighbors, but by God he was good to have them on his side.
"It's what we're here for," Rory said proudly. "Lou, Demarco... make sure those boys make it back to their car and don't cause any more trouble."
"Yes, ma'am," Lou smiled. "I love it when she gets bossy."
"I know," tawny-haired Demarco grinned.
"The trailer has thin walls," fair-haired Etta added in dry tones.
"Go," Rory chuckled.
---------------------
Grimtooth's was the closest thing to a bar in the town of Moonwood Mill. Along with the library, it was the unofficial, official meeting place for the town. It was a sensible place to meet, especially because Rory had been hungry. To Demarco's thinking, a hungry Rory was to be avoided at the best of times. After their run-in with Cletus, Rory had been craving meat, the bloodier the better. She was plainly in a better mood after having scarfed down one of Celene's rare hamburgers.
"It's not just you, Kurt," Jake Volkov, young leader of the Moonwood Collective, said.
If anyone could seriously challenge Rory's claim that it was her town, her mountain, it was Jake. The two had been raised as brother and sister by the legendary Kristopher Volkov, who had been the leader of the little mountain community for longer than any living person could remember. As Kristopher's heirs, they were now, with his passing, considered the new leaders. Demarco was very aware that the balance between them was a delicate one.
"Someone's trying to buy up land on the mountain," Jake continued. "Mostly around the edges of the Moonwood."
"And whoever they are, they're using Cletus and his boys to put pressure on people who aren't likely to sell," Rory added.
"Why?" Demarco wondered out loud. "I mean, this is pretty country. I love living here... but it's not like prime development land. Isn't the Moonwood protected... like, National Trust land?"
"It is," Kurt nodded. "You wouldn't believe the paperwork you have to deal with to get a huntin' license."
Demarco chuckled. She was surprised Kurt ever bothered with getting a hunting license. She, Rory and Lou certainly didn't... though that was a little different.
"Why is a good question," Rory said seriously. "Who is a better one. We need to figure out who Cletus is working for."
"Sounds like a job for us," Etta said, glancing over at Demarco.
This, she thought, was part of the balance that had been agreed between Jake and Rory. Jake's Collective managed things within the town of Moonwood Mill and handled relations with the surrounding communities. Rory and the Wildfangs, who included Demarco, protected the borders of their shared territories and handled things further afield.
"We get all the fun jobs," Demarco smiled back.
"This isn't a hunting expedition," Jake admonished.
"Don't give orders to my pack, little brother," Rory put in hotly.
The two locked eyes across the table as the delicate balance between those two strong-willed individuals was tested once again. The table fell silent, waiting. Demarco watched them, knowing all too well the struggle between the Wolf's primal instinct to challenge a rival and the human's rational understanding that they needed to cooperate. Finally, with a smile and a simple tilt of his head, Jake conceded the point. Demarco was a Wildfang and Etta, though she was a friend to both packs and a member of neither, was Demarco's partner and lover. Rory's pack, Rory's lead.
"He's right though," Rory admitted, if a bit grudgingly. "We need information, not... quick resolutions."
Demarco could almost feel Etta relax. Rory's ideas of quick resolutions usually involved at least some level of violence, and she knew that Etta, while more than capable, preferred to avoid fighting when she could.
"Don't eat anyone. Got it," Demarco said, trying to lighten the mood.
"I guess we get to play spy," Etta smiled.
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