AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s been a fuck of a day, bud. I don’t feel like playing twenty-fucking questions, okay?” I knew it wasn’t the damn dog’s fault, particularly because as far as I and anyone else could tell, Schmidt’s killing was spontaneous hate and not connected in any way to the open shifter killings. Yeah, I know there was the whole we-hate-magic-people thing connecting them, but there were far too many people who fell into that camp for me to make any assumptions about the two cases being linked.
There was just too much hate to go around.
Taavi lay down in the passenger seat, putting his head on his paws, his mismatched eyes facing forward. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to respect my request for silence or if he was pouting, and I really didn’t have the energy to spend any time thinking about it. But the guilt chewed away at my stomach anyway.
I pretended to ignore it. I’m good at ignoring things, especially when they have to do with my feelings. I’m extra good at ignoring those.
I was less good at ignoring the fact that every five or so minutes, Taavi would look over at me, but when I’d look at him, he’d go back to facing forward, his stupid doggy eyebrows up in a look of consternation.
But I’ve had a lot of practice at quashing down feelings of guilt and inadequacy.
I parked on the street, as usual, then waited for Taavi to pee on a signpost before carrying him up the stairs to the apartment and stripping off his booties and sweater. I threw those—along with some of my clothes—into the laundry, then went to determine whether or not I actually had the makings of dinner.
I didn’t.
I looked down at Taavi, who was sitting in the entry to the kitchen. “Chinese? Indian? Thai food?”
He chuffed on the last one. I rifled through my basket of take-out menus, found My Noodle, and proceeded to call in twice as much food as we needed.
Then, having put it off for as long as I reasonably could, I went out to the living room and flopped on the couch to call Dr. Keller. Taavi whined, standing next to the couch, so I scooped him up and put him next to me before I hit the call button, leaving the phone on speaker.
Taavi settled with his head on my thigh.
I let him. Mostly so I didn’t have to think too hard about the fact that it made something tighten in the back of my throat.
“Detective Hart!” Dr. Keller greeted me cheerfully the moment she answered her phone.
“Doctor,” I replied. “Do you have good news for me?”
I really, really hoped this was good news. I needed it to be good news.
“Yes and no. Good news first?”
“Yeah.” I ignored the pit in my stomach.
“Well, I’ve isolated the chemical compound. It’s a beta blocker, and I would put money on the fact that it’s specifically been designed to do what it’s doing—to stop a shifter from shifting.”
“And that’s good news?” This didn’t sound good to me.
“Insofar as I can tell you exactly what it is, yes. Because if I can tell you what it is—specifically a combination of synthetic lithium salts and propranolol—” Like I knew what either of those things was “—I can, in theory, counteract the effects.”
“Okay, thatisgood news,” I admitted. Taavi’s tail thumped against the couch cushions. “So then what’s the bad?”
“Well, the bad news is that the concentration of it in his system isreallyhigh. As in, there is no possible way he isn’t still being dosed with it.”
I frowned. “Dr. Keller—”
“I know you said he can’t be taking it,” she interrupted. “And if you’ve got eyes on him all day, then we need to figure out how it’s getting into his system. Dog treats? Kibble?”
“I give him the same food I eat,” I told her. “And I don’t feel particularly different, which I’m assuming I would on this stuff.”
“Oh, definitely. Okay. Does anyone else give him food or water besides you?”
“No.”
I heard her sucking on her teeth, thinking. “Any chance he’s got a subcutaneous implant?”
“A what now?”
