Page 4 of Wynter

“Liam had to bring Wes in for questioning,” Amber, who’s still shifted into the Liam in question, explains.

I don’t even crack a smile.

“He’s going to want to talk to you next, but he said it’s just a formality.”

I nod. “Don’t worry. The police will catch the real thief.”

“I hope so,” Yeti Amber says. “But I’m more afraid word will get out. If people find out someone’s robbing the Cleanly Den’s clients…”

“…no one will hire us anymore,” I finish for her.

“Which would be bad for business.”

“It would.” And I could end up losing my job, though Amber doesn’t say so. She doesn’t have to.

“But that won’t happen.” She shifts back to herself, the worry reflected on her face belying her words. “Liam promised us he’ll find the real thief. And Julian went out to hire a detective just in case. All you need to do is tell the man everything you know about the Cleanly Den, and I’m sure he’ll figure this out before anyone in town finds out.”

Chapter Two

Xavi

I grimace as I rush across Main Street. Last thing I need is to shift in the middle of traffic. Again. Or in the middle of the sidewalk. For the eighth time. Yes, I’m keeping count.

I wouldn’t get hurt—that would require a speeding semi—but I’d take up half the road. And impede traffic. And cause everyone to stop and stare at me. Man, I’d do anything to avoid those stares.

I really wish I wasn’t the only shifter of my kind in Silver Springs. I’m as much of an oddity here as a werewolf would be among humans. And right now, I really wish I were human. Or a werewolf. Or literally any other supe.

Sure, the first time I shifted, I was over the fucking moon. Same with the third time. And the fifth. But the time I totally demolished my desk in the middle of class? Not so much. Ditto the time I hitchhiked and nearly took out an actual semi. And those were just the tip of the iceberg.

At least in Shifter Bay, there were protective measures in place. My desk got replaced with a beanbag chair. My bed with a nice, safe mattress. And I may have been one of the bigger shifters back home, but at least I didn’t feel like a freak. Okay, fine, not a complete freak.

Maybe my brother’s right. I should just pack my bags and head home. Probably would have by now, if it weren’t for a certain Cleanly Den witch named Zoe Wynter. A witch who has never looked at me the way I look at her.

I let out a sigh as I step onto the curb. At least there are wards in place in Silver Springs to make humans forget incidents involving magic. So I don’t have to worry about ending up in a research lab, or on the front page of the local paper. Unfortunately, the mere thought of the Silver Springs Herald makes my fingers tingle and my toes twitch. Both signs that I’m about to shift.

I break into a run. Race past a Yeti wearing a t-shirt in the dead of winter. Duck under a pink pixie in a parka with holes for wings. Jump over a grumpy orange cat dressed in a cloak and winter boots. I’m dodging supes left and right, but I have to get out of sight before it’s too late.

I don’t stop until I reach Dr. Bernard’s. The clinic is a small, one-story building, located in a secluded part of town. And the waiting room is empty. Doc likes to leave a good half hour between patients. Which I appreciate at moments like this.

I take deep breaths, inhaling the familiar lemony-fresh scent, and the urge to shift dissipates.

It’s not like I’ve never shifted in front of Doc. I just don’t want to do it before my session begins. And lose half of it trying to shift back. So I take one final deep breath, make my way down the hall, and knock on the office door.

“Come on in,” a cheerful, feminine voice calls out.

I start.

Not because Doc sounds uncharacteristically perky, but because he sounds like a she. A very young she. And nothing like the no-nonsense seventy-year-old man who reminds me of Granddad.

If I lived in a human town—or if I were back home in Shifter Bay—I would assume it was someone other than Doc. But here in Silver Springs, there are far more likely explanations.

A gag potion, for one, like the type they sell at Highway to Spells. I tried this hilarious brew once that made me sound like I’d been inhaling helium. And I’m sure there are other voice-changing potions, too. Not that Doc would take them before an appointment.

He might be a chameleon shifter, though, like the owner of Jewels Cafe. It’s not like we’ve ever discussed his species. Or maybe he just saw the cafe’s hilarious new Shiftocinno ad. The one with the animated bear, bunny, and wizard who sing to their princess until she shifts into a troll.

It’s been trending on Screech, and I snort as the catchy song plays in my head. Is it time to freshen up? Be someone else with every cup!

Not that Doc would choose to be someone else during work hours.