Discovering his mate - A Silver Shifter Series 4

Chapter 1- Nina

I felt my first migraine of the year come on, great, what perfect timing. I was about to meet with the social worker and nurse that would oversee Dad's care. I was always on edge when I had a migraine. I found it different to focus, listen, and even speak. I dug around in my bag for painkillers only finding an empty bottle and the prescription that I had forgotten to fill. I was standing in Dad's new room. At the Silver Thread Valley Aged care center for aging shifters. Silver Thread Valley was called that for the rivers that threaded through the town. They would sparkle as the sunlight hit them. I didn't see anything like that as I drove in through the mountain rangers. All I saw were weird, fortified buildings because shifters like to break stuff. I didn't see any beauty in this town. Though Dad seemed to enjoy the view as we drove in. I had been living here for nearly ten days. I would have liked more time to set myself up before Dad arrived, but he had to move quickly, and my little apartment wasn't really appropriate for the both of us. He stayed at my duplex the first night he arrived in town, it was cramped.

"This is a nicer room than the other place," Dad said looking out the door which led to the garden. I wanted to tell him it was probably because it was triple the price of the other place. Anything would be nicer if it was triple the price. Then again, it didn't matter how much it cost. They knew how to look after Dad in his 'condition'. The staff here were attentive and kept up to date with new research into aging for shifters. Which was all I cared about.

"The tv is bigger" I noted, rubbing the back of my neck. I tried to discreetly massage my head. Hoping that it would curb the migraine that was getting stronger as the sun got brighter.

"Good, it's going to be a good footy season this year," Dad said. I looked at my watch, the nurse was ten minutes late.

"They are late," I said.

"It's alright, we aren't in a rush," Dad said. I had taken a long weekend so I could help him move him. So, I wasn't in a rush. Though now I would like to rush to the chemist to get some pain relief. I turned away from the bright door closing my eyes. I wasn't looking forward to this meeting. The last three age care center's I had put Dad in had no idea what they were talking about. They quote human medicine and human care. They knew nothing of shifter health or shifter physiology, also it was just a waste of money. I wanted to sue them for false advertising; since they had all advertised their extensive knowledge of shifter health, while at the same time knowing absolutely nothing about shifters. However, I didn't have the money for that.

I had known of the Silver Thread Valley aged care center for some time. However, I had been avoiding it as I didn't want to move here. I refused to leave my father in a home while I live somewhere else. I will always live near him in case he needed anything. For a time, we tried living together but I didn't have the knowledge or time to care for him or the equipment. I didn't want to move to Silver Thread because I didn't want to be surrounded by shifters. Yes, my father was a shifter, but it didn't mean I had to like them all. All my life my father had protected me against violent and nut case shifters. Those kinds of shifters had attacked and injured my father; they also killed my mother. I had no love for shifters, I saw them as every human did. They were animals and should be treated as such. The only exception was my father. He was the only shifter that wasn't a nutcase; he was kind, and caring, and only fought when attacked. He was more human than shifter, well that is what I told people. Because of those psycho shifters, my father was now sick and needed special care. Which is what led me here, no other place was giving us what he needed.

I stiffen as I felt my father's hand move over my neck as he massaged my head. Dad told me that I inherited migraines from my mother. That she got them all the time and now I was suffering from them. Though I knew that they were generally brought on by stress. I dropped my hand as I let my father massage the migraine away. Which he was always able to do. No one could ever do it, only my dad could. Not friends, strangers, or colleagues. It was strange that he could do it, but I let him. Especially, when I had no drugs to take.