The Pegasus Marshal's Mate (U.S. Marshal Shifters 2)

And no matter how calm Theo kept his expression, he couldn’t hide how pale his face had gone. His dragonmarks usually weren’t visible through his shirt, but now they were lit up with stress. Parts of him were glowing like a night-light.

He needs something to do, his pegasus said.

Wise words for once.

Martin said, “Theo, can you start going group-to-group and calming people down as much as you can? They’ll be a little shaken up, so go easy.”

Not that he’d ever had to warn Theo about being polite.

Theo nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The assignment must have been a relief to him, because his dragonmarks started fading right away. It was only his fleeting smile which told Martin that he suspected any ulterior movies.

But it was true that the crowd needed to be handled carefully. And it was even more undeniably true that Theo was the most courteous of them. Fugitives would sometimes sheepishly apologize to Theo for having ever run away in the first place. Theo would get results at the same time as he got some air and a task to focus him. Win-win.

His pegasus tossed its tail approvingly. Our herd. Then there was a twitch of its mane. They’re all here. They’re all... here?

So the horse’s bout of good sense had been short-lived after all.

I know they’re all here, Martin said. I can see them.

But there was something in the pegasus’s pose that made him pay attention. He could feel it inside him, much more vivid than usual. The horse’s neck was outstretched, its delicate ears were pricked up, and its wing feathers were ruffled. It was longing to go over to the crowd of courtroom evacuees when usually being penned in by people made it—and him—feel a little on edge.

Strange.

Shifters knew better than to ignore their instincts. Maybe this was nothing, but he didn’t want to take that chance.

“Come on,” he said. “We could all stand to mingle a little. Spread out and convince people that we’re going to keep them safe.”

“I’ll tell them I like not getting blown up,” Gretchen said. “I have plans for this weekend.”

“Do you really?” Colby said, impressed. None of them ever seemed to manage social lives.

“Niece’s birthday party. I know you think you’re wild, Colby, but you haven’t been to a real rager until you see a bunch of sugar-crazed four year-olds fighting over a unicorn cake.” She touched Martin’s elbow. “In other words, please make me work this weekend.”

The crowd might have seemed tame and manageable from the courthouse steps, but up close, it was a bustling hive of paranoia, camera flashes, and gossip.

“Gretchen,” Martin said, “I think I can promise you won’t make that birthday party.”

Gretchen grinned at him and peeled off to start giving out official reassurances.

“I don’t suppose it would help if I told them that I’d be able to smell if there were a bomb in the building?” Colby said hopefully.

Martin knew that even in human form, werewolves often retained their heightened senses of smell. He still doubted even that would automatically give Colby the ability to sniff out explosives that could have been hidden in rooms—or even on whole floors—of the courthouse that he hadn’t visited that morning. He said so.

“I could schedule you for some professional development, though,” he added. “Put you in classes with the German shepherds.”

“I’m not nominating you for supervisor of the year this year,” Colby said. “Just for that. Enjoy being beaten by what’s-her-name out of the Springfield office.” He exhaled through his teeth. “I don’t like this happening on my turf. If this is about that ‘trial of the century’ bullshit, that means it was about my courtroom. No one edges in on my territory.”

When wolves decided to act like shepherds, anyone attacking the flock was in trouble. Martin would have no problem unleashing Colby’s fury on whatever prank caller had probably phoned in the bomb threat... but until they had an actual suspect on hand, he was going to have to pull Colby off courtroom security. Colby wouldn’t like it, but he would have to deal with it. Security detail required calm and common sense, not things angry wolves with their territorial instincts on high were famous for.

He tried to think of something that might unwind Colby a little in the meantime.

“Jillian’s stepmother. You’d recognize her, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you go talk to her, since Theo’s probably busy? She’s essentially one of the family, and I know Theo would like it if someone looked after her a little.”

Colby bit his lip. “I want to, yeah, but I don’t want to miss the bomb squad.” He looked hopefully at Martin. “Hey, you could keep her company.”

“I’ve never even met her.”