Varick’s Blog (1)
“Paranormals are just like us. They deserve equal rights, equal status under the law, and no less than our full understanding and cooperation!” I watch from the outskirts, close enough to hear, but not a part of the crowd. A smattering of applause greets the pretty redhead as she finishes her speech on the stairs in front of the white columned government building.
A heated, spicy tingle warms my body as she steps down, her nipples tight and visible in the oh-so-proper sweater she wears over a blouse against the chill wind. Staid, gray slacks demurely outline her curvy figure. Mmm. Definitely my kind of woman … proper on the outside, but all fiery and full of fight on the inside.
Only a few dozen people brave enough to show up for the rally now stand in the square. It’s mostly your typical malcontents and troublemakers, but there are a few who look like they might actually give a damn.
I can’t decide whether the woman has balls of steel or is dangerously naïve. More than likely, a little of both. A tall, unkempt man makes his way to the front of the group, standing on the concrete base of a light pole like a monkey, spouting obscenities and tossing crap about how humans are better than paras. The crowd grows, becoming restless as the man yells, gaining the attention of the cops outside City Hall.
I stay in the shadows of the storefront across the street, where I can watch without being seen. Easier said than done most times, but I’ve gotten good at it. Most of us have. Coming out as a paranormal isn’t a fashionable, celebrity thing to do anymore. It’s a life sentence. The government took care of that. So much for equality.
I’m Varick Gerard. Used to be a paramedic, but now I’m labeled a criminal. Just because I’m a shifter, I was legally forced out of my profession, my home, and the comfortable life I once lived. Phoenix shifters aren’t inherently evil. Given the choice, I’d rather save lives than take them. I don’t like to fight. While some of the other paras here live for nothing else, it just isn’t my thing. I don’t steal, I don’t destroy things, and I don’t kill people unnecessarily. I may have lost everything else, but I still have my principles.
Me, I’m a loner. It’s a phoenix thing. Most of us are. I don’t mind being around people, I’m just not into long-term commitments. Sex? Yeah, I’m definitely into that. I can burn up a bed like nobody’s business. And that woman up there -- she’d be right at the center of my pyre of passion on most days.
But not today. Something’s in the air, I can feel it. I’ve been chased out of more cities than I can remember, just because I choose to survive. What’s left of the local police force musters in front of the building. Riot shields and batons at the ready, the leader shouts into a megaphone for the crowd to disperse. Chaos has a strong following in this town.
The cops advance in a restless, unsteady line -- a phalanx of toy human soldiers pitting themselves against the evil paranormals. Same shit, different location. That isn’t what’s bothering me, though. There’s something else, just on the edge… It’s like I can almost feel it, taste it, but it keeps slipping past me.
“Hey, phoenix-dude, come on! The goon-squad is coming out to play.” A short, pimply vampire pauses, motioning for me to join the unruly mob gathering in the shadows, waiting for their chance to pick someone off.
He’s annoying -- hangs around all the time, always trying to get me to kill something with him. I think he just wants to see what a phoenix can do. Lucky for him, I’m not really a joiner. “No thanks, I’m heading out. Good luck with that.”
He shrugs and sprints off, his fangs standing at attention and ready to rumble. Idiot. Time to leave this burg. I don’t need the cops on my ass or any more problems than I already have. It’s not worth the trouble.
A woman’s annoyed yell yanks me to
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