Both Pearl and Sapphire glowered at her. Several of the other relatives whispered behind their hands to one another, which reminded Jade her lack of a man in her life had been a topic of conversation for quite some time.
She used to find the pointed comments hurtful. These days, she simply ignored them.
Jade managed to shrug. “I don’t know about that, but we’re not here to discuss my love life.” Or lack of, she amended silently. “I need direction as to what to do about Libby. If he finds out about her and does a story, we can say goodbye to our privacy and hello to a wave of tourists.”
Another standing argument in both town and her family. People were equally divided. Some wanted to capitalize on the monster in their midst, while others insisted on leaving things the way they’d been for centuries.
“That old debate again?” Jade’s uncle Jack, Auntie Em’s husband, huffed. “Why do you want to go and ruin a perfectly good family get-together with that nonsense?”
“Yeah,” her cousin Coral, who hated her name, seconded. “Can you just finish up whatever you have to say so we can go?”
“This is important, everyone. A photojournalist is asking about Libby. I need to know what, if anything, to tell him.”
This time, her grandmother spoke. When Opal addressed the family in her matriarchal voice, everyone paid attention. “In all my years of taking care of Libby, not once did word about her existence leak beyond this town.”
The accusation seemed clear, at least to Jade. In fact, everyone in the room swung their heads around to stare right back at her, accusation in their expressions.
As if she’d already failed.
And it didn’t matter that she’d never asked for this job. It had been expected of her from the moment she’d been born.
The last thing Jade had ever wanted was to be put in charge of taking care of Forestwood’s resident lake beast. Libby had resided in the cool, deep depths for as long as anyone could remember, and the Burnett family had always been her caretakers. Libby personally chose whom she wanted and when. Since Jade’s mother, Amber, was still young and vibrant, Jade had figured she’d had at least ten more years before being asked to take on the task.
Thus when Libby gave her approval for Amber to retire from her duty and pass the chore down, Jade had been completely unprepared. Worse, Amber had said nothing other than a terse “Good luck.” Evidently, training wasn’t one of the perks of the job.
Jade had been caretaker since she’d turned twenty, nine years now. In the beginning, she’d often resented that fact. These days, she felt more comfortable, more at ease with her role, which mostly consisted of being Libby’s friend. Maybe in the beginning, when Libby had first come to Forestwood, the role had been one of a protector, Jade wasn’t sure. Every decision, even those made by the Burnett family in a family meeting, had to be run by Libby before being implemented. In truth, Jade privately thought the family meetings were all for show. And an excuse to get together and eat.
“I’m doing the best I can,” she muttered to herself through clenched teeth, while she tried to figure out what to say. “I think I’ve done well considering my age when I assumed the role of Guardian.”
Unfortunately, Opal’s hearing was the one thing that hadn’t declined with age. “Life is not fair, honey,” Opal drawled. “And since Libby specifically requested you, there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”
Ever since the first time Jade had heard Opal make that statement, she’d grit her teeth and wondered how anyone had actually known what Libby wanted. In the prior years when Jade had accompanied Amber to take care of Libby, not once had Libby—whether in human form or not—ever said two words to her. Not once. Jade had begun to sincerely doubt she could talk. Of course the minute Jade had stepped into her mother’s role, all that had changed. She and Libby had sat down several times and shared a meal and chatted. These days, Jade felt as if she and Libby could easily become close friends.
Once, the knowledge that Libby had requested her had filled her with resentment. Now, she felt a little glow of pleasure.
Belatedly, she realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for a response.
Jade dipped her chin at Opal to show she understood. “That may be,” she continued, addressing the entire family. “But the fact is, someone did talk to an outsider. Word traveled, far enough to attract that photojournalist’s attention.”
“Then deal with it,” her mother said tiredly. “Distract him. You’re pretty enough. Pretend to be helpful. You know as well as I do that Libby stays deep when a stranger comes around. That journalist will learn nothing, unless you tell him. And I know you won’t do something that foolish.”
And there she had her answer. She wondered why part of her had hoped...what? That they’d let their secret finally out in the open, for the rest of the world to marvel at and share? Or at least the shape-shifter world. Humans could never know.
“Are we finished?” cousin Coral demanded, sidestepping closer to the food table. “Because if we are, I’d sure like to eat my dessert.”
Jade glanced at her grandmother, who dipped her head yes. Then at her mother, who did the same, except with a smile. “Then I guess we’re done.”
The instant the words left her mouth, chairs scraped on the wooden floor as they all rushed, en masse, toward the bathrooms. All except Coral and a few others who clearly hadn’t yet tried the peach cobbler. Watching as they approached the dessert tables, Jade considered warning them, then decided not to. She snagged another slice of the chocolate cake and carried it out of the room, across the yard and into the main house. There, she took a seat at the kitchen bar and ate it slowly, needing to wash the taste of the cobbler out of her mouth. She had to plan a strategy. From what she could tell of the handsome photographer, he wouldn’t be easily distracted or put off.
“Are you about ready?” Amber asked as she entered the kitchen. “We’ve got a full moon. It should be a perfect night for hunting.”
The shape-shifting wolves were called Pack for a reason. There was nothing they loved more than changing into their lupine selves and hunting together. When a younger Jade had shown signs of reticence, preferring privacy over too much family togetherness, her mother had told her, “A solitary wolf is a lonely wolf.” As far as Jade had been concerned, a little loneliness could be a good thing.
These days, Jade relished her family hunting times. Sometimes, family meetings were called just so everyone could change and hunt together after.
“Of course.” Blotting her mouth with a paper napkin, Jade carried her paper plate over to the trash bin. “It’s been a while since I’ve changed.”
“Then this hunt will do you good.” Patting her arm, Amber wandered out toward the dining room to gather up any stragglers. Though technically, Grandpa Sam had been designated Pack leader years ago, his worsening dementia had made him unable to even attend the family hunts. Now, Jade’s grandmother, Opal, led.
The woods in back of Burnett House stretched back several acres and the boundaries had been clearly marked on certain trees. Behind that, lay forest preserve, protected from hunters. A bounty of wildlife thrived there, and the Burnett Pack did their part to keep rabbits, squirrels, foxes and other smaller mammals from overpopulating.
Already the family had begun gathering on the back lawn, talking excitedly. With their full bellies, not too much hunting would likely take place tonight, but there were always a few who so loved the thrill of the hunt they attempted to do a sort of catch and release. Of course, once most shifters gave over to their animal side, the term catch and release lost all meaning.
Jade joined her aunt Agate and Coral. A second later, Sapphire and Pearl joined them. The twins seemed especially keyed up tonight, judging from their flushed faces.
“How