Free Roaring Up the Wrong Tree by Celia Kyle Page A

around.
    But why did she have to hurry? They were gonna be late no matter what.
    Flopping into the passenger seat, she tugged on her seatbelt and then looked at her watch. Out of everything they owned, their watches were the most expensive.
    “Atomic” watches. Ones that always kept perfect time. It was super important which was why they splurged on them. Her mom never wanted to give the local shifter “people” a reason to hurt them for hanging around too long. Twelve hours and one minute was one minute too long for them.
    Well, for Trista really. Being part hyena meant she couldn’t hang around. That didn’t apply to her mom since she was human.
    What. Ever.
    Stupid furball rules. Those rules, those “people,” were another reason they were still hanging around.
    It didn’t take long for them to reach the border between Grayslake and Boyne Falls, but her mom didn’t cross the line. Her mom had to juggle several shifts and really work out the timeline in order for them to go to Mr. Scott’s funeral, but she’d said it was important.
    Trista didn’t see how.
    Because he was your father.
    Blech. It wasn’t like she’d seen him for more than five minutes in her entire life. Even his checks came in the mail and were sprayed down with some disgusting cologne. He couldn’t be connected to Trista and her mom. His “mate” wouldn’t like that he still had contact with them.
    Throwing the car in park, her mom slumped in her seat, her attention focused on the road before them.
    Two hyenas paced the street while a human-shaped, gun-toting man leaned against a nearby SUV.
    “A welcoming party. Again,” Trista sneered.
    “Well, Mrs. Scott doesn’t like us. You know that.”
    “Yeah.” Trista wiggled and settled into a comfortable position. “I don’t know why she can’t just let us go already.” Not that they had the money to leave, but whatever. She sighed and glanced at her watch again. Only a minute had passed. Crap. “How long do we have to sit here?”
    “Another eleven minutes.”
    She sighed again and watched the animals down the street watching them. They drooled on the asphalt. Gross. Then she remembered why they were drooling—they were looking forward to making them dinner. Even grosser. And scary as hell.
    Finally the wait was over and her mom popped the car into gear. She pulled onto the street and they approached the city’s border. The hyenas quit their pacing, but kept on with their drooling. Ick.
    As they passed the three “people,” the human guy pointed his gun at them and the two hyenas jumped and scratched the side of their car.
    She wondered if she was gonna die now, if Mr. Scott’s order had died along with him. Instead of cowering and showing fear like she had when she was little, she stared the man in the eye, kept her attention right on him. They moved forward and she remained focused on him, not breaking his gaze as they passed.
    He flinched first and dropped his eyes.
    Score one for her.
    “You shouldn’t antagonize them like that.” Her mom’s voice was half censuring and half prideful.
    Trista focused on the pride and shrugged. “Not my fault he’s weak.”
    Her mom hummed, but didn’t say anything else. Not while they finished their drive, nor when she pulled into a parking spot at the cemetery.
    Trista stepped from the car, only her mom… did not. She bent down and caught her mother’s attention. “Ma, you coming?”
    She shook her head. “No, this is something for you alone.”
    “Mom,” she whined.
    “They’re your people, Trista. You need to go and pay your respects. I’m not allowed there.”
    “But what if…” What if Mr. Scott’s order really did die with him?
    Her mom shook her head. “No, Mrs. Scott may not like you—”
    Trista snorted, but her mom continued.
    “—but she will follow the law.”
    “What about Heath ?” She spat the guy’s name.
    She’d call him a man, but he was hardly eighteen and still pimply-faced. God, did the guy