Keepers of the Cave by Gerri Hill

the darkness, really. The damp earth smell was comforting to her, familiar. Most of the tunnels had been built many, many years ago, linking the main Hogan house and the underground cave—the chambers—with the main buildings, like the grocery store and the café. Since she’d had the reign, she’d orchestrated the construction of the newest ones, linking the homes. They could move about freely now without having to step outside. There was no chance of prying eyes then. They were free to do as they chose. She smiled in anticipation of the upcoming week, knowing the sacrifice they’d chosen was more for the celebration week her great-grandmother had started than for him. Regardless, he seemed to enjoy it as much as the flock now did.
    She followed the tunnels directly to her home, missing Belden being there to greet her. Belden had been her protector since he was twenty, long before her mother handed over the flock to her. Belden’s family had always been the shepherds, his father looking after her beloved grandmother for years. They were the shepherds, yes. They were also the hunters, having learned their skills from birth, the bloodline long and thick.
    She didn’t concern herself that Belden was the last of his family. Only his younger sister remained and she was of no use to Ester. It was her mother’s fault. She didn’t have the steel hand that her beloved grandmother did. Her mother didn’t control the coupling. There was no selection. Those born to the flock weren’t of good linage, her mother knew that, but she couldn’t cull them, not like her grandmother had. Fortunately, her mother grew ill. Ester allowed a small smile at that thought, shaking it away quickly. Her mother had been forced to hand the purple robe to her. Ester was prepared. She culled the flock quickly, ruling with an iron fist, taking instruction from him . Unfortunately, there was now a gap. And for the first time in over a hundred years, there was no true Hogan to carry on.
    Fiona was as close as she had, and Fiona had proven to be faithful. If she bore a female child, then he would be happy. He would be able to mate again. The true Hogan line would end, but her reign would continue. The thought thrilled her, almost as much as the upcoming ceremony.
    She paused at the door to her rooms, looking back down the dark tunnels. She had heard a noise, a scraping sound. She tilted her head, listening, but all was silent.
    A rat perhaps.
     
    ***
     
    “Why a cop?”
    Paige halted in mid-pour, the wine bottle the only thing separating her eyes from CJ’s. She hated this question. She wished she’d made up a lie years ago.
    “I mean, considering your family and all,” CJ continued, “that hardly seems what they had in mind for you.”
    “No. Hardly,” she said. Actually, she was surprised by CJ’s attempt at conversation. She’d been distant, withdrawn most of the day. Brooding. Paige had finally given up trying to talk to her. So now, at dinner—which she’d assumed would be another quiet affair—CJ asks that question.
    “So?”
    Paige shrugged. “I wanted to help people,” she said. “I went to law school—”
    “To help people?”
    “I know. After the first year, I realized it wasn’t for me. It was all about money and politics.” Paige met her eyes. “I applied for the FBI without my parents’ knowledge. I really didn’t think it would get as far as it did,” she said.
    “So they freaked?”
    “That’s an understatement,” she said. “I was raised—trained—to be some rich man’s wife. They tolerated law school because that was considered a noble profession. And if I insisted, they would allow me to join the firm that served as my father’s counsel.” She sipped from her wine, remembering the conversation well. “Until I was married, of course. Then I would resort to being a proper wife.”
    “And the FBI?”
    She smiled. “What can I say? They demanded I quit, but really, they had no hold over me.