It was and he knew it. The Others were done waiting around to be protected by their government and law enforcement. They were done being patient, and people like Marlon Hayes were too caught up in the power politics of appealing to the hateful fringe that they lost sight of what was really going on.
Toshio feared for everyone. For humans most of all, because they were afraid and he understood that fear. Understood, too, that witches like Molly Ryan were attempting to keep communication open between humans and Others to alleviate the fear.
Sadly, he also understood that it was humans like Hayes who were too eager to label that attempt at openness as some sort of manipulation. In the end, if humans didn’t reject the hateful assurances of Marlon Hayes and PURITY that they only had to corral the Others and detain them, treat them like animals and the problem would disappear—if they didn’t see it for the lie it was, it would be to their detriment.
There was no way. The humans could pass all the laws they wanted, but if they tried to enact them . . . well, there’d be open civil war with an enemy they could have easily kept as an ally. An enemy far more powerful than even hysteria pushers like Hayes could understand.
He blew out a breath and paid attention as the hearing was called to order.
HELENA kept an eye on the room as she listened to the hearing start up.
“This bill isn’t about harming the nonhumans, as they’ve preached to you. This bill is about protecting natural-born Americans. Real Americans who are human. You saw what they did with their little speech threatening us all. This bill doesn’t call to kill anyone. It will assure us all that these abominations are no longer allowed to live among us and hide their real agenda.”
Real agenda? Goddess, Helena rarely lost her shit, but she found herself having to hold it together instead of walking over and popping this fool in the face. She’d been trying for months now to get the Others to remember not all humans were this way. But people like Hayes and PURITY’s Carlo Powers were gaining traction, and that made it a lot harder to remember that.
It went on this way for some time longer until he finally shut up and it was Tosh’s turn.
“Two generations ago, my grandfather served this country in World War Two. He did so while his family was being held in a camp. He did so despite the fact that his pregnant wife had been removed from their home and his business had been taken from him. My father was born in a relocation camp and my grandmother nearly died because of the lack of real medical facilities and care. All because his last name was Sato. Even after the war was over and my grandfather, who’d been decorated twice, returned home, he had to spend the next several years getting his family’s life back on track because the government refused to return his business and he’d lost his home.”
Hayes interrupted. “You see? His family listened and did what the government told them to. Even served in the military like his kind should have to prove their loyalty. What makes any of you think you’re better than that?”
Sato interrupted, his face hard. “Senator Hayes misses the point, so let me be clearer. My kind, my family’s kind, is American. What happened to my family was wrong. It was a miscarriage of justice. It was not what this country should be. My grandfather was better than the people who harmed his family, yes, but the harm was done. People died. People lost everything and it did not make us safer. It did not make us better people. The Domestic Safety Act does not make us better Americans. It does not make us safer. It takes Americans and strips them of their rights. It depersonalizes them and puts them in camps. Some of the provisions in this bill bear a horrifying similarity to things done to the Jews during World War Two in Germany. Tracking chips. Camps. Restricted movements. Removal of property and redistribution to the government. How long before we put them on trains and steal their gold watches? This bill is wrong.”
Helena wanted to stand up and cheer.
But he wasn’t done. “Two weeks ago a so-called expert panel was here at the capitol to testify about this bill. Not a single Other was on that panel. Worse, when an Other—Molly Ryan—was given time by members of this body, the room was hit with three bombs and Ms. Ryan was severely injured. Today we have an expert panel with actual experts on it and I’d like them to each introduce themselves. Once we’ve got that out of the way we can get to questions and answers.”
The introductions went fine and then the questions from the senators started.
Lynn Reed, Carlo Powers’ second-in-command nationwide, was on the panel, just a few seats down from Molly. Helena caught the shift in her energy, the darkness inside her gut as she spoke. There was a great deal of hate, but more than that, a sheer greed for power. If it wasn’t Others, this woman would be screeching about something else. She liked scaring people, liked using fear as her cudgel to whip folks into a frenzy.
“The proof is that these monsters lived next door to us for generations and never once revealed themselves until they brought down some sort of retribution on their heads. This thing that killed so many of them was divine punishment for their evil. Whatever pact they made to keep the remaining ones safe is what we need to know. Why haven’t they told us about this pact?”
Molly sighed heavily. “We haven’t told you because there is no pact. No divine retribution for existing. What happened to us—to us and not you—was an ancient power. It was not about punishment. It fed on our magickal energy and we were able to defeat it, but not without a heavy cost. It has nothing to do with humans at all. And nothing to do with this bill, so if we could get back to the subject at hand, that would be a better use of our time.”
“You don’t get to decide what we talk about.” Marlon Hayes sneered at Molly.
Sato interrupted. “The hearing is regarding the Domestic Safety Act. As a matter of fact, it’s the topic and it’s quite helpful if we stick to that. We were all sent here to do a job. The people’s business. To get sidetracked by all this other stuff is not helpful. Nor is it the people’s business. So if we can get back to the topic at hand, please.”
Hayes turned, red faced. “You’re insulting Ms. Reed when she’s answering a question.”
“That’s enough, Marlon. The question was asked, we got a bunch of nonsense. Her time is up and so is yours. Moving on.” Delilah Sperry narrowed her gaze, daring Hayes to continue.
Lynn Reed spoke from the table. “You’re going to spend eternity in hell, Delilah Sperry. I don’t have to listen to you.”
Delilah waved a hand, appearing bored. “That’s Senator Sperry to you.” But Helena saw her energy, knew she choked back rage. Her wolf pressed against the woman’s skin, but she held it together.
“My constituents voted for me knowing I was a werewolf. As for eternity, mind your own and get your nose out of mine. Now, back to the question. Ms. Ryan, can you please address the issue of registration and how it would impact the witches in your Clan?”
Molly nodded once and smoothly dove in. Any time Reed tried to interrupt her she simply continued to speak and Helena thought a few times she might have even used her magick to hold the floor. But if she had, Molly was too damned good to get caught, so good Reed had no idea. Which was a positive thing because heaven knew if she thought she was being hexed to shut the hell up, she’d flip out.
“The issue is,” Reed spoke again at the end of the hearing, “we don’t know that they haven’t been manipulating us all along. What if they decide to use their magic to harm us? Make us do something wrong? Maybe they’ve done that since the beginning. We have no proof they haven’t.”