“What?” McCluskey asked, frowning. “No, of course not. They are both gainful members of society, what with being a first responder and the owner of a vibrant small business.”

“Oh good. I thought for moment we were going to make this a national or even a global fight. Supreme Court, constitutional rights, public opinion, financial pressure, the whole nine yards. I can’t foresee any prayer of any of you retaining your jobs in that situation,” Chris said.

“You should be careful about that… Declan’s aunt is here in the US under cloudy circumstances,” McCluskey said.

“Omega?” Declan asked, voice tight with fury.

“Ashling O’Carroll is a full citizen of the United States with full documentation. Additionally, banishment is specifically prohibited under the Vermont State Constitution.”

“Oh, heavens no. That’s not what we’re talking about. We just think it’s very dangerous for this city to have such an important member of your team here. So visible and all that,” Jordan said in a placating tone, playing the peacemaker.

“There have been five other instances involving this young man,” Chief Park said. “With multiple lives lost.”

“Five?” Stacia asked.

Declan was looking up at the ceiling, concentrating. “Yeah, that’s actually right.”

Just then, the nurse on duty, a rather no-nonsense black woman named Gwen, stepped into the room with a tray of food.

“There’s a whole lot of visiting going on in here,” she commented, eyeing the politicians with a narrowed gaze. “We aren’t tiring out my patient, now are we? This young man needs his rest and nutrition. Declan, why is your blood pressure wigging out?” she asked, looking at his bedside monitor. She tsk-tsk-tsked, glancing at the local power squad and then shared a knowing glance with Stacia. Chris got the impression that the blonde werewolf had made an ally or two during the last twenty-four hours.

Stacia hopped athletically off the bed and swung the roller table over with practiced grace. Gwen set the tray in place then picked the covers off the plates, revealing ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, low-fat milk, sliced pears, and a little plastic container of vanilla ice cream.

Covers in hand, Gwen turned toward the door. “Now then, general visiting hours are over in fifteen minutes. Only family allowed after that. I expect to just see this young lady here when I come back,” she admonished and walked out.

The politicians exchanged bemused glances.

“I don’t really want anyone messing with my aunt,” Declan said, bringing the topic back to point.

“Is that a threat, young man?” McCluskey interrupted.

One of the slices of pear rose off the plate by itself and zipped through the air to arrive in Declan’s waiting mouth. He chomped down, chewing as he looked the senator in the eye.