Thank You For Not Shifting (Peculiar Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  “Hey, baby,” Sunny said, more tired and worn out than a few seconds ago.

  I realized she’d been trying to be chipper for our customers, for me even, but with Babe here she could let her guard completely down. She didn’t have to pretend. I glanced at my scars. One of these days, maybe I could stop pretending.

  My brother was tall and built like a boxer. He’d slicked back his normally shaggy, brown hair and wore a blue, button-down dress shirt under his leather jacket, and a new pair of black slacks. As mayor, he’d been in charge of getting the Tri-Council meeting organized, and he looked nearly as worn out as Sunny.

  “Damn, you look rode hard and put away wet, Babe.”

  “Not yet,” Sunny quipped, followed by a giggle. Babel’s haggard expression changed instantly to a leering grin.

  Ew. I chose to ignore them.

  “Hey, Chav.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek, but his eyes never left Sunny. “Aww, darling. You’re having a rough go.” He held his hand out to her. “You ready to go home?”

  Sunny scooted to the edge of the booth and turned her swollen feet out.

  “Damn.” Babel winced. “It’s time I got you off those turnips.” He scooped her into his arms. Sunny laughed as he spun her once. He didn’t seem to mind that his shirt got wet from her boob leakage.

  “Get on out of here, you two.” I shooed them toward the door. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  When eight o’clock rolled around, I was happy to see the last of our customers leave. I took my apron off, hung it on a hook just inside the kitchen door, and sat down to put my feet up. I’d already cleaned the grill. All I had left to do was give everything a good wipe down, sweep and mop the floors, and clean the toilets in our universal bathroom. I checked it every hour during the day, so I knew it wouldn’t be too bad.

  I wished I wasn’t so tired. Since my injuries had been so substantial (Billy Bob’s words), I didn’t have the same energy I’d had pre-kidnapping. The only time I felt any kind of normalcy was after a full moon shift, but my upbringing as an integrator made it difficult for me to give over to my animal side. The advantage to living in a therian community is that I didn’t have to hide my second nature, but I couldn’t bring myself to let my coyote flag fly.

  I put in my ear buds and plugged in an audiobook. Listening to stories let me travel to other places while I did my chores. Really, it had become my favorite part of the day. Forty minutes later, or thereabout, I put away the mop, cleaned out the bucket, and turned off the book. I turned the lights off from inside the kitchen where a master switch controlled everything but the refrigerated units. My bed was calling me hard, and I considered waiting until morning to shower.

  Since my apartment was over the restaurant, it would take me ten seconds to get home and on my way to bed. But first, I had to take out the garbage to the bin outside. We kept a Dumpster at the back of the restaurant as far from the backdoor as possible. I didn’t bother turning on the lights again since I knew the path by heart. As I carried two large bags of stinky trash to the large bin, I fantasized about my fluffy mattress and my bamboo pillow.

  The next thing I knew I was airborne, the garbage bags flying in different directions. I managed to twist, landing on my shoulder and hip.

  What the hell?

  I rolled to a sitting position and leaned forward, trying to see what I had tripped over. My palms slid around in a wet, sticky puddle. I noticed my shirt was soaked, and now that the shock wore off, I could smell the metallic tinge of blood and something else. Sweet like root beer, only spicier. I scrabbled backward, heart racing. I popped to my feet, returned to the kitchen, and turned on the outside lights.

  Less than a foot from the back door laid a human-like body. It had no hair. No skin. No face. Its hollowed sockets stared blindly upward, and its mouth gaped wide, revealing straight, even teeth. My stomach roiled with nausea as I viewed the meaty red corpse.

  Blood soaked the ground, offering a terrifying backdrop for a horrific display of what had once been a person.

  They found me. The hunters. A warning about—no. No. They were dead. Each and every one of them. Dead, dead.

  Your enemies are no more, little sister.

  I took immediate comfort from the imaginary voice, and my panic subsided.

  I scrambled into the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind me. I tried to slow down my heaving breaths and calm my pounding pulse.

  You are safe.

  What a messed up lie, I thought. I wasn’t safe. I’m not sure I’d ever been. But the voice once again helped me to clear my jumbled thoughts. I dug my cell phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, tapped it open, and dialed the Sheriff’s office.

  “Deputy Farraday,” a man said. “How can I help you?”

  “Eldin,” I said, my voice shaking. “This is Chavvah. You need to wake up the sheriff.”

  Chapter 2

  “And you turned off the light and walked out here and tripped over the body?” Sheriff Taylor asked for the millionth time. The dark circles under his eyes made him look as tired as I felt. His appearance had more to do with the fact that his second nature was a raccoon. Mine was actual exhaustion. The sheriff stood over the body, and I leaned against the doorjamb. Deputy Farraday had been taking pictures and making notes. The town coroner and local funeral director, Mark Smart, prepared a body bag.

  Why would someone leave a freshly skinned corpse outside a vegetarian restaurant? Was it a statement from some crazy meat eaters?

  I didn’t want to think about the question hovering just outside my potential hysteria. Was this poor soul someone I knew?

  “Chavvah?”

  “Yes,” I finally responded. “That’s what happened.” I felt sick to my stomach, and now that the adrenaline had completely worn off, I could smell every sickly, rancid bit of the man’s exposed muscle and fat. I averted my gaze from the ghastly sight, but my other shifter senses were on high alert. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get that particular stench out of my nose.

  “You didn’t hear anything?”

  “Like I said, I had my ear buds in, listening to a book.” I put my hand on my belly to stop a wave of queasiness. “I can’t believe…” My breath quickened, and I swallowed the rising bile. “…this happened.”

  Sheriff Taylor joined me near the back door and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m real sorry, Chav.”

  I saw movement around the corner, and my heart jumped into my throat. I grabbed the sheriff’s shoulder, but then I recognized the silver glint of Billy Bob’s hair. Shit. The doc was the last person I wanted seeing me covered in blood and looking, once again, like a victim.

  The werewolf strode directly to us, barely glancing at the body. His stare was intense as his gaze pinned mine. “Are you okay?” The low, throaty growl that followed the question sent shivers down my skin.

  I nodded, worried that if I opened my mouth, I’d start crying.

  Billy Bob turned to the sheriff. “Do you know who it is?”

  “No. Mark’s pretty certain it’s a man, even with his skin and genitals removed.” He winced as he spoke. “We can’t figure out if it’s one of ours or one of the people who came in for the Jubilee.” I could hear a sad weariness in his tone. Our town had already been through so much, and this murder compounded the misery with interest. “Doc, you’ll have to help us ID the victim.”

  As the only medical doctor for miles around, and really, the only one qualified to examine a therian body, Billy Bob would do the autopsy. Call me a chicken, but I couldn’t stay there within three feet of a skinned corpse and talk about it—him. “I … I think I’ll go shower now.”

  “I know you want to clean up, Chav,” the sheriff said. “But you did the right thing in waiting until we arrived.” He snapped his fingers at Farraday, who trotted over with a paper bag. “I need you to put all your clothes in this bag after you change. Also, I don’t think you should stay here tonight. Why don’t you stay with Sunny and Babe for a few days?”<
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  Sunny and Babel were having enough issues with Baby Jude not sleeping through the night. They were both exhausted, and I didn’t want to upset Sunny. Not tonight. Besides, I couldn’t deal with my friend’s reaction to blood. Sunny was notoriously squeamish and tended to faint.

  “Chavvah can stay with me,” said Billy Bob.

  “Uh, no.” I racked my brain for alternatives. I didn’t want to go to Billy Bob’s place. One, it was attached to his clinic, and I still had a lot of painful memories of my recovery, and two, I couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping just feet away from Billy Bob, knowing he’d never see me as anything more than a patient. “I’ll go to Ruth’s.”

  “It’s after ten, Chavvah.” He used his doctor tone—the one that suffered no arguments. “There’s no sense in waking her and Ed this late at night.”

  “Besides, they took in two of the Jubilee attendees,” added the sheriff. “They’ve already got tight quarters.”

  Desperate, I seized on a ridiculous thought. “I’ll sleep at the motel.”

  The Halliver’s Hilltop Motel was a thirty-bed unit just outside of town on the same rural road that led to Sunny and Babel’s cabin. Homer and Audrey Halliver, a nice young were-raccoon couple, managed the motel.

  Billy Bob lifted an eyebrow. “The rooms are booked. But maybe Bethany could let you share her room at the Halliver’s.”

  The knowing look in his eyes made me want to punch him in his perfectly flawless kissable kisser. Billy Bob or Bitch?

  I took the lesser of two evils.

  “Fine,” I said, making sure he heard the irritation in my acquiescence. I snatched up the paper bag for my bloody clothes. “I’ll be right back.”

  * * * *

  Blood colored the shower stall.

  As the hot water poured over me, the memory of getting clean after sitting in my own filth and blood for three weeks rolled back on me like a dust devil on a hot highway. My imaginary friend began to chant. I couldn’t understand the words bouncing in my mind, but I understood the soothing tone. Calmness stole my panic, and I released a pent-up breath.

  It took all of about fifteen minutes to shower, change my clothes and pack an overnight case. I didn’t want to stay longer than a day or two. When I got back downstairs, I found Billy Bob and the sheriff in the kitchen. The back door was still open. One glance out the back door confirmed that the body had been removed. But the blood-soaked dirt remained. A terrible reminder of the carnage.

  Crap. Jo Jo was supposed to open in the morning to prep the food. Over the past year, he’d become a very competent sous-chef. I made a mental note to set my phone alarm so I could call him in the a.m. before he came to work.

  Silently, I handed the paper bag to the sheriff. Billy Bob stared at my overnight case and frowned.

  “You got enough for a few days?” Billy Bob’s low baritone voice sent a shiver through my belly to my girly parts.

  Oh, Lord, going to spend the night at his place was such a bad idea. “I have everything I need for a short stay.” A very, very short stay. “Sheriff, do you want me for anything else?”

  “Come down to the station in the morning and fill out a witness statement. You two can go.” The sheriff cast a furtive glance at Billy Bob then me.

  “Am I missing something?” I asked, suspicious. What was this all about?

  “No, ma’am,” Sheriff Taylor said. “You all have a safe drive,” he added.

  My left shoulder ached, the one that had been ripped from its socket and left to mend out of place. My body held too many reminders of being tortured by my kidnappers. I switched the small suitcase to the right hand. Billy Bob reached out for it, but I stopped him. “I’m not an invalid.”

  His brow wrinkled with irritation, but suddenly, his gaze landed on mine, and his face softened. He nodded. “Let’s get going then.”

  * * * *

  The ride in his half-ton truck was like sitting in a Jon boat as it crossed a choppy wake. “Jesus, Doc. You ever heard of shocks?”

  “This beauty is reliable.” He patted his dashboard, his gray eyes shining as moonlight streamed into the cab. “I can count on it to get me where I’m going.”

  “Yes, but can you count on it to get you there free of hemorrhoids?”

  He smiled, and my pulse quickened. It made me stupidly happy to see the corners of his lips tug up. “I heal fast.”

  I laughed, the repulsive image of the skinned corpse fading with each minute in Billy Bob’s presence. “You’d have to.”

  He chuckled. My lady bits clenched. Ugh.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  His concern flattened my woo-woo feelings, and my lady bits unclenched. “Fine.” My throat was tight. “Are you going to do the autopsy on the body?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Mark Smart will transport the victim to the clinic.”

  “Tonight?” I hadn’t thought about where or when Billy Bob would examine the body, but when he’d asked me to stay at his house, I’d just assumed it would happen tomorrow.

  “I need to identify him.” He shook his head, his eyes tight at the corners. “For his family. It’s not fair to let him go unclaimed by his people.”

  My stomach hurt. For too long, my younger brother Judah and the other victims of those insidious hunters had gone unclaimed. I remember what it had been like for the two years before we discovered why my brother had disappeared. I’d never stopped wondering or worrying. My emotions had run the rainbow of anger to grief to hope to denial and back to anger. I didn’t want another family to suffer the same experience. Not even for a day.

  I nodded sharply. “Good.” I swallowed. The heat of anxious energy burned in my gut.

  Billy Bob put on his blinker before turning up his long driveway. We passed his sweat lodge. I couldn’t buy into all his shaman bullshit. Yes, we had the ability to transform into animals, but that didn’t mean every type of magical crap out there was real. When we crested the hilltop, his house appeared. It was a large, one-level ranch home with the clinic attached on the nearest side.

  The outside lights were on, illuminating the large front porch that stretched the length of the house, maybe sixty feet long and eight feet wide. The place had two front doors about twenty feet apart. One was Billy Bob’s private entrance to his home, and the other was the public door to the clinic. A van was parked near the clinic door, the lights off.

  Billy Bob turned the truck off. “Smart is here with the…” He looked at me.

  I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Do you need help?”

  His expression flashed with surprise. “Are you sure you want to help?”

  What he was really asking was, Can you handle it? I nodded, telling myself to woman up. “I’m tough, Doc.”

  “That you are.” He put his hand on my forearm and gave it a squeeze.

  His touch electrified my skin with an energy that pulsed through my body. I pulled away from him as if I’d touched a hot coal. He thinned his lips, his gaze now on the steering wheel.

  “We better get to it,” I said to cover my embarrassment. Shit. What was wrong with me?

  I should have apologized. He was being kind. It wasn’t his fault my stupid hormones did a jig every time he walked into a room, or that my whole being wanted him whenever he touched me. It was as if he was the socket and I was the bulb. Every time he touched me my body would light up. I’d never had that reaction to another man. Ever. I’d like to say it was some transference because he was my doctor, my caregiver, during some of my darkest hours, but truthfully, he’d made me feel that way before I’d been kidnapped.

  He opened his door, got out, and shut it hard behind him. I winced. After a few calming breaths, I got out too. By the time I reached the clinic, Billy Bob and Mark had already pulled the victim out of the back of the funeral home van on a gurney. Billy Bob handed the key to Mark’s oldest son, Jackson, who had gone into business with his father right out of high school.

  I caught up with Jackson at the door. His fa
ce looked as pale as his pale blond, almost white hair, typical of opossum shifters. “You okay?” I asked.

  “I never saw anything like that, Chav.” He shook his head, his eyes haunted.

  I could smell vomit on his breath. Poor guy must have gotten sick. I’d lived in a cage for almost three weeks with only a bucket for my bodily functions, and sometimes, they’d messed me up so badly I couldn’t use it. Even so, seeing that skinned corpse, having its blood cover me, had almost made me empty my stomach too.

  I patted his shoulder and took the keys from his shaking hands. “Why don’t you go sit on one of those benches? Get some fresh air.”

  He didn’t argue with me. Shoulders slumped, he walked the ten feet to the nearest bench and sat down. Billy Bob and Mark had pulled the gurney up the ramp by the time I got there to help. I put the door wedge in to hold it open so I could get out of their way and then followed them inside.

  “You have anyone in the clinic tonight, Dr. Smith?” Mark asked.

  “No,” he said. “Nothing too major this week to warrant an overnight stay. I guess I can be grateful for that.”

  I was grateful I wasn’t the body being moved to the metal table in his surgical suite. After all, the body had been left near my restaurant…while I was in the kitchen. Suddenly the air left my lungs as if I’d been socked in the stomach. “I was there,” I said.

  “What, Chavvah?” Billy Bob asked.

  I looked at him, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. “I was cleaning the kitchen.” My hand went to my trembling lips. “The killer was right outside the door. He could have waited until I … Damn it, Doc. He could have killed me too.”

  Strong arms wrapped around me before I realized that Billy Bob had me in his embrace. I could hear his heart thumping as I pressed my face against his chest. I’m tall, only an inch shy of six foot, but next to Billy Bob most people were short. His hands threaded my hair, still damp from the shower, and my skin pulsed, threatening to strip my self-control. I wanted to shift. To run. To forget about my human side. My broken, damaged, emotionally stunted human side, and just let instinct and nature take over.