The Lion’s Mate

“Well, Dean, I’m here to discuss the denied admission of Annie Daniels.” Mark noted the look on the dean’s face; his amiable smile drooped into a frown of displeasure. Hammering the nail in now would be to his advantage. “I understand you denied her admission on the grounds that she is a shifter.”

Dean Wormer cleared his throat, never breaking eye contact with Mark. “Is that what you understand?” Mark nodded but did not speak. “Your understanding is false.”

“Would you mind explaining to me what the truth is?”

The dean leaned forward on his desk. “Who are you again? Are you with the press?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Mark assured him, even though he knew damn well the man knew who he was. Maybe not his profession, but the dean was aware of who his family was at the least. “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Dean Wormer sat back and chuckled. “I assume Ms. Daniels feels she’s been discriminated against?” Mark affirmed his assumption. “I can assure you that is not the case.”

“On what basis did you deny her admission?”

“Our admissions policy is in the school handbook. You may read it at your leisure.”

“I have,” Mark said. He reached into the briefcase he’d carried in with him and pulled out a copy of the handbook. He turned to the page and began reading aloud the highlighted section concerning admission requirements.

After only three sentences, the dean interrupted him. “Mr. Anderson, I am well aware of our policy.”
“Then you should also be aware that Ms. Daniels fulfilled and even surpassed most of these requirements.”

Dean Wormer pursed his lips, steepled his fingers, and stared at Mark silently. Mark waited patiently. After almost a full minute of silence, Dean Wormer spoke. “Mr. Anderson, I’m going to have to ask you to leave my office. I’ll contact the school’s lawyer and have him get in touch with you.”

Mark sighed as if he was disappointed. “I see. All right, Dean Wormer, if that’s the way this is going to have to play out, then I’ll bring the ball.” He handed his card to him. “All my contact information is on there. Please make sure he contacts me no later than tomorrow at noon.”

Mark rose to leave; the dean did not, his manners forgotten now that he knew what he was dealing with. After Mark left, the dean was on the phone immediately, conferring with the school’s lawyer.

Mark left the dean’s office and meandered around campus for a bit. The campus was beautiful and busy; he wondered if the football team was any good. The buildings were made of the same brick, and each had trees in front and around, shading the campus from the sun. The quad, a large field that looked more like a park, had students lazing about on blankets, some studying, others visiting. A handful were playing soccer. And as far as Mark could tell, not one was a shifter.

He sat down on a bench again and watched. A young woman sat next to him and smiled. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“My friend and I were wondering if you’re the new lit prof?”

Mark laughed. “No ma’am. I’m a lawyer visiting the campus.”

“Oh. You don’t look old enough to have a kid going here,” she commented flirtatiously.

“Thank God,” he replied with a smile. He turned toward her a little. “Can I ask you a couple questions about the school?”

The girl shrugged happily. “Sure.”

“I’ve noticed most of the students are human. Are there any shifters who go here?”

The girl looked around, her blond ponytail following the movement of her head. “Hmmm. I never really thought about it. I don’t know any shifters. That’s kind of weird.”

“Why is that weird?”

“Well, I went to high school here, and there were shifters in all my classes. But not one of them goes to school here.”

“Is it typical for kids who grow up here to attend this school?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged again. “A lot of people do, anyway.”

Mark opened his mouth to ask another question, but a burly boy in surfer shorts interrupted. “Kacy, who’s this guy?”

Kacy looked up. “Hi, Greg. This is . . .” She looked at Mark. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

Again Greg interrupted before Mark could answer. “His name doesn’t matter, Kacy. He’s a shifter, can’t you tell?”

Kacy looked confused. “I didn’t notice. Why does it matter?”

“Shifters don’t belong here.”

Mark chuckled as he stood. “Why’s that, Greg?”

“Because shifters are lower than humans.”

“Greg!” Kacy admonished. She looked at Mark apologetically.

“Be quiet, Kacy,” Greg told her without looking at her.

“Screw you!” Kacy said as she walked away.

Mark watched her walk away and returned his attention to Greg. “Looks like you lost your date for the weekend.”

“If she prefers shifters, I don’t want her.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot. I’ll be leaving now.” He turned to leave, but Greg grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Mark glared at him. “Listen, kid, let’s not have a problem.”

Greg shoved him. Mark shifted and roared. Everyone on the quad turned. The lion roared again, causing Greg to fall over backward in his attempt to move away from the lion. Mark stood over him, growling, then licked his face. He gagged a little at the taste and pretended he might throw up on Greg’s face. Greg squealed loudly and back pedaled on his hands and feet, crab-like.

Mark chortled, a sort of snuffling sound, as he turned and headed for his car. He picked through his torn clothes, mourning the loss of his favorite suit, and found the keys. He carried them in his mouth as he ambled across campus in his lion form, scaring a few of the students. Most just watched him walk by, some called out, and a couple even touched his mane as if they were old friends. Mark enjoyed putting on the little show, especially when he saw the dean walking briskly toward him with two large security guards behind. They reached him just as he reached his car.