“Glad you finally made it. Amanda and her group just got here, too, and they brought counterprotesters. Unfortunately, things have just blown up out there and I’m afraid that we’re not going to see the night through without a problem. I’ve called in leaders from all the various religious organizations and fraternal lodges around here to try to create a common front that can push the fanatics back into the woodwork.”
Chase nodded. He waved his left hand, the stump of his little finger suddenly reminding me of how much this man had been through for our family. But the biggest change he had suffered couldn’t be seen on the surface. The biggest change was that Chase was no longer human. We had fed him the Nectar of Life to save his life and, barring accidents, he would live a long, long time. In the process, he had discovered that he had a distant ancestor who was an elf. Chase had met him, though we still didn’t know much about that story. Perhaps, one day, he would tell us.
“Here’s the problem. We have the hate groups picketing—which they are allowed to do. We have the United Worlds Church countering them, which again—allowed. We have nearly two hundred Supes getting pretty damned agitated. Totally understandable. But somebody has to back down before this powder keg explodes.” He motioned for Frank to join us.
Frank Willows was a farmer, and he was also head of the Supe Militia. A werewolf, he was a bit more alpha male than I cared for, but it was the tradition of his pack. He sauntered over, joined by Jonas Rigbee, the current alpha of the Blue Road Tribe werebears, and Marion Vespa, owner of the Supe-Urban Café and one of the coyote shifters.
Frank was a sturdy man, not tall but definitely built. “We better take this down a notch. The meeting hasn’t even started, and we need something to defuse the mess, by the looks of how things are going.”
“I have a suggestion.” Neely’s voice was neutral and calm, the perfect way to address an alpha Were. “You start your meeting. Our people will do our best to get between the building and the protestors. We won’t cause trouble, that’s not what we are about—we are a peaceful group who espouse nonviolent protest as the positive way to effect change.”
Jonas nodded. “And we value your offer.” His voice was gruff, like you’d expect a bear to be, and he looked like a football quarterback. But he was wearing a three-piece suit and carrying a briefcase. “But what happens if they attack your people?”
“We will defend ourselves but we will not lead an attack.” She turned to Amanda and Carlos. “Go talk to the group leaders. Ask them to spread out around the building and go into protection mode.” As the pair nodded and moved off, Neely frowned. “We organize in group units, and each unit has a leader. Much more functional than just a mass of scattered people.”
Chase turned as the door opened and a handful of men and women entered. “Good—they’re here . . .” but as he spoke, a groundswell of noise came from outside. We all hurried to the front windows and cautiously opened a couple of them. The crowd had swelled to over a thousand, it looked like, and now we could hear a steady chant rising out of the masses.
“Love not hate! Love not hate!”
The chant gained strength as voice after voice joined in. Apparently, the other churches and organizations had taken to their phone trees, because the swell in crowd size was increasing, and now I was reading signs that directly countered the Earthborn Brethren and their thugs. For every sign reading GOD HATES FAES and DIE WERE DIE, there were at least ten countering it with HATE BREEDS HATE and SEATTLE STANDS FOR LOVE. As we watched in silence, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, someone started singing “Get Together,” and the old Youngbloods’ anthem of the peace-and-love generation swelled into a massive sing-along.
The Earthborn Brethren were being corralled into the center of the incoming protesters, and they were beginning to look nervous. The Freedom’s Angels bikers shuffled, glancing at our building, and then at the crowd around them.
“I think now might be the time to show that we stand with the Seattleites who are standing with us.” Delilah glanced at Frank, who nodded to Jonas.
The werebear cautiously opened the front doors wide and stepped outside, followed by a handful of the Supes. Neely joined him, slipping her arm through his. After a hastily whispered conference, one by one, the leaders of Seattle’s religious orders and lodges followed suit—each one joining together with a Supe and stepping out in front of the building. They joined the singing. My sisters and I followed, spreading out in a line.
I asked Smoky to bring out a lectern and to aim the speakers toward the front of the building. Then I motioned to Camille. “We should say something. You’re good at public speaking—you do it. We need to thank everybody for their support.”