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“That must have been a pleasant conversation,” Claire said.
“It wasn’t bad, considering.”
“What did she have to say after the two of you got done with your pissing contest?”
Claire knew me so well.
“She was going to check into eagle shifters.”
“Huh?” Claire’s face went blank.
I guess I hadn’t told her everything.
“Grace has seen an eagle a few times,” Mal explained. “According to her, they’re rare around here in the summer.”
“They are.” Claire studied me. “I hear the new doctor wears an eagle feather in his hair.”
“He does. Though if he were the shifter, do you think he’d be that dumb?”
“Maybe not so much dumb as arrogant, which a lot of supernatural creatures are. With good reason.”
“I doubt an eagle’s our problem.”
“Because?”
“The heart wasn’t ripped out of the victim’s chest by a bird beak; it was just gone. Or maybe never there in the first place.”
“You’re thinking the victim is a supernatural being?”
I nodded.
“But if that’s the case, then what killed him?”
“And why?” Mal added.
“So many questions, so little time.”
“Let’s get cracking.” Claire pushed her intercom. “Joyce, cancel all my appointments.”
“Already done.”
My eyes met Claire’s and we shared a smile. Joyce could be downright supernatural herself sometimes.
“We need to call Elise.”
“Your turn,” I said quickly.
“Fine. Mal, any ideas about what we could be dealing with?”
“I only know Gypsy legends. The chovhani, the witch.”
We’d already dealt with the effects of one of those.
“Any bird legends?”
“Crows are good luck. Ravens, too. The hoot of an owl is a harbinger of death, as is the howl of a dog.”
“No shape-shifting birds?”
