Evan Lawson was busy putting his newborn son back into his crib; electing to spend the entire day with his wife Maggie Lawson taking care of the baby instead of heading to the Labor Day picnic. Unaware of the events that transpired at the picnic nor what happened at the police station. Gently stroking the infant with his furry paw, the werewolf quietly leaves the nursery, heading back to the master bedroom where Maggie is resting. Looking at the sleeping were-panther/feline hybrid softly snore, Evan heads back downstairs to get a quick meal prepared. Looking at the time he sighs as it is getting rather late.
“Where are you Spencer,” Evan quietly grumbles as he makes a couple of sandwiches. As he turns around to head back upstairs with a plateful of sandwiches, the front door opens and enters his daughter.
“I’m home,” Spencer seeing her father in his fursona.
“I didn’t hear your truck,” Evan looking at Spencer; “something happen?”
“You could say that,” Spencer sighing; “is one of those sandwiches for me? I havent eaten since lunch and talking to the police about what happened has made me hungry.”
“You better come into the kitchen then,” Evan leading his daughter; “tell me what took place and what happened to your truck.”
*******
A few hours earlier.
“Well it looks like your parents are home Frieda,” Spencer looking at the Knight Estate as she pulls up in her brown Ford Bronco pickup truck.
“Nothing to be worried over,” Frieda commenting; “at least they won’t flip I came back from the picnic late.”
“But don’t they want to sit you down with the whole getting a dog comment on social media,” Eric chiming in.
“Not worried,” Frieda smiling as she gets out of the truck; “mom surprisingly wants one as well.
Spencer and Eric watch as Frieda enters her home before Spencer puts her truck in gear and drives off. The trip to the Anderson household was silent; the two electing to save their chat for later when they skype each other and Frieda before going to bed. Arriving on Eric’s street, the two see a Shelby Cobra parked at the side of the street. Both knew that was Jean Talbot’s car; a gift from her father. However what surprised them was the scuffle that was transpiring just outside of the Anderson front lawn. Two men attempting to assault Eric’s older brother and Jean looking furious in her were-lioness fursona, letting the two know they made a very bad mistake.
“Get that seat belt on,” Spencer speaking to Eric; “those two are trying to make a break for it.
“What are you doing Spencer,” Eric looking at the girl putting the pedal to the metal.
“Butting in,” was all Spencer said as she rammed the car the two men got into. Smashing the vehicle head on just as the engine was turned over and stunning the men in the process. The force of the impact made Eric lurch forward; if it wasn’t for the seat belt he had on, Eric would of flew through the windshield, possibly killing him in the process.
It was a slow motion montage for the two, as Jean runs up to the vehicle, snarling and growling as yanks the terrified men out of the vehicle; all the while Martha and William Anderson ran out the front door to see their son on the ground looking dazed and groggy. The flashing red and blue light coming up the street as the two men still try to fight in a vain and futile effort to get away from trouble they are clearly now in.
*******
“So you your truck is totaled,” Evan looking at his daughter eating one of the sandwiches he prepared; Maggie sitting next to him as she came downstairs a few minutes prior looking for Evan and her sandwich.
“All is not lost,” Spencer calmly answering; “the men that tried to attack Nate, were were-panthers. They are currently being charged for assault and resisting arrest. They tried to fight the deputies as they were being dragged into the cruise. I think they were trying to get away from Jean Talbot,” Spencer smirking; “something about her most of spooked them good.”
“I better call Sheriff Cooper,” Evan getting up; “stay here Spencer, we are not done here.”
*******
Again, earlier.
“You should lay off on tormenting your brother,” Nate looking at Jean; “after all he did nearly die from being shot this past Friday.”
“You are starting to sound like my dad,” Jena looking at her fiancée/husband; “My brother is a big boy, he can handle what I dish out on him.”
Nate shakes his head; unable to come up with a retort or a rebuttal, he gives Jean a kiss before hoping out of the vintage sports car.
“We’ll talk tomorrow when you get out of school,” Jean smiling; “see you then.”
Nate watches Jean drive off slowly; unaware of the men that watched and observed him approach from behind. Just as he turns to head inside, one of the men lays into him with a vicious punch kick combo knocking him to the ground. Facing a flurry of kicks and punches, all Nate could do was try and protect his face as he was the victim of a savage beating. While a werewolf and quite strong; Nate could smell his assailants were also weres and just as strong as he was.
Looking through on of the side mirrors on her car, Jean growls as she witnesses two men attack her mate. Whipping the car around and pulling back up to the Anderson household; Jean jumps out of her car.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing,” Jean growls.
“Back of bitch,” one man snarls; “this doesn’t concern you.”
“Bitch,” Jean roars; “you dare to call me that! You better back off from my mate or by all that is holy, ”Jean roaring at the men and shifting into her were-lioness fursona; “you will be answering to the Talbots for attacking my mate!”
“Talbots,” one man turning around and seeing the snarling were-lioness quickly approach; “the boss never said anything about angering them.”
The second man also looking at the were-lioness rapidly approaching abandons his attack on Nate and tries to make a hasty retreat back to the sedan. Getting inside as the enraged were continues to give chase, he tries to drive the vehicle but is shocked to see a brown truck come up on them fast and ram the vehicle.
“Get out of there,” Jean reaching in and grabbing one of the men and yanking him through the passenger side window. Not caring that she shifted into her fursona while it was still light outside, or that the were-alert was still in effect. The were-lioness had her claws out and was making good use of them as the man she grabbed was looking genuinely terrified and trying desperately to get away.
“Let me go woman,” the man clearly frightened; “I’m protected by powerful people.”
“No more powerful than my father,” Jean growls; “the were-lion king. So stop trying to bluff your way out,” Jean glares; “you smell of fear, despite being a were-panther you are afraid.”
“Fuck you,” the man spitting in Jean’s leonine face; “you know nothing.”
“I know you are up shit creek,” Jean seeing the approaching police car; “without a shit paddle. And you have a shit leak in your shit boat;” Jean throws the man onto the ground and glares at him.
“Run,” Jean growls; “either the police catch you or I do. Either way, you better run.”