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

Authors: Renee George

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Thank You For Not Shifting (Peculiar Mysteries Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: Thank You For Not Shifting (Peculiar Mysteries Book 2)
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Yep, the Jubilee was good for business. The whole town felt a real sense of pride that Tri-State Council had decided to hold their annual mucky-muck celebration in Peculiar.

I glanced at Sunny, who’d just delivered an order to a table of four. There were times over the past couple of years when I had debated on whether I should bring her to Peculiar from California. I’ll admit, seeing her and my younger brother Babe so happy made me simultaneously thrilled and nauseous at times, but I know I made the right call.

I really hoped she could get through the week without making waves with the visiting therians. The town might have accepted her as an official member of the community, but it didn't mean the outsiders would. For now, I hoped we could keep Sunny’s “humanness” a secret. The only way to truly tell a shifter was the see him or her shift. Sunny would need to stay hidden somewhere on the last day of the Jubilee when the full moon occurred—and every therian shifted whether they wanted to or not.

“Chavvie?” Jo Jo interrupted my train of thought. “Can I get off a little early tonight?”

“Got a hot date?”

“No.” He blushed an amazing shade of pink. “It's just…well, I'd like to get a few groceries before I go home. Maybe show off my new mad cooking skills tonight.”

His dad had been sober going on nine or ten months, but the kid was in a constant state of worry whether Brady would relapse. They lived on a property close to Judah’s cabin where Sunny and Babe now lived. I’d taken over the tiny apartment above the restaurant. Sunny had made a good start of making it livable before she moved out. I’d gotten rid of all the old furniture and replaced it with a more coastal design or what Ruth liked to call modern beach rustic.

Jo Jo had stayed with me for a month while Brady had gotten sober. Now that he wasn't under my feet in the tiny apartment I called home, well, I missed the boy. I understood his fears about his dad, so I let him off the hook.

“Yeah, I can close by myself tonight.” Sunny only worked token hours in the afternoon, now that she had a baby to take care of at home. But with Jo Jo gone, it was going to be a much longer night than I planned.

Jo Jo stood up, the top of his head nearly four inches above mine. He kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Chavvie. You're the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I told him. “Go peddle your charm where it might do you some good.”

Ed Thompson finished the last sip of his coffee, put a dollar on the table, and limped to the cash register.

“Did you hurt yourself, Ed?” I asked as he counted exact change for his lunch.

“Just a catch in my step is all. Weather's gonna turn bad, I think.”

It was the beginning of July, and the weather in Missouri fluctuated day to day, so I didn't have to be a psychic to predict it, I just knew change was inevitable. They had a saying in the state that went something like, “If you don't like the weather, stick around five minutes, it'll change.”

“Do you think you could look at my car, Ed? It keeps making a clicking noise.”

“Sure, Chav. Bring it on over anytime.”

“If I get it to you tomorrow morning, when could you have it done?”

“Could be a timing problem. Unless it’s something that I have to order parts for, no later than Friday.”

“Sounds good.”

Ed nodded, and with a wink and a smile, headed out. The doorbell jangled again, three men walked in. The first man had short brown hair, about two weeks overdue for a haircut, so it curled over his ears. He was tall, well built, and his green eyes shined like peridots framed by thick dark lashes. The second of the men was thin and wiry, nice-looking in his own way, with blue eyes, red hair, and freckles. The third, a dark blond with brown eyes was built like an Olympic swimmer with a broad chest, narrow hips, and long, muscular arms. All three came to the register.

“Can I get you gentlemen a table?” I asked.

“No,” said the man with pale green eyes. “We need some sandwiches and coffee to go.”

“Cream and sugar?”

The redhead piped up. “Yes, for me.”

“Only sugar,” the dark blond said.

“I’ll take mine black,” the green-eyed man said.

“And what sandwiches?” I pulled out my order pad and held up a pen, ready to write.

“Jackfruit burger with jalapeños.”

“Your California roll with extra avocado.”

“I’ll take the roasted red pepper panini with cream cheese.”

“Chips and a dill pickle spear all around?”

Each man nodded. They stood off to the side. I asked Jo Jo get the coffees, and I went back to the kitchen to make the sandwiches. Ten minutes later, I carried the order, wrapped and ready to go to the register.

The dark blond with the brown eyes leaned close. “Mmm. Those smell good.”

I put the sandwiches into a bag, added three servings of homemade potato chips and three baggies with a dill pickle spear each, napkins, and plastic silverware. Jo Jo arrived with three coffee to-go cups.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Your name,” the blond said.

I looked up, startled by the question. He had the hint of a smile on his wide mouth, and I noticed tiny gold flecks in his brown eyes that almost glittered like…well, glitter.

“Chavvah,” I said. “Are you all with the council or just in early for the Jubilee?”

Brown eyes made some very direct eye contact, and his smile grew wider. “I’m Randy Lowry. My father is the head of the council. I’m just a humble handyman.” He pointed to the redhead. “That’s Hans Fisk. Council member representing the big cats of Arkansas.” He jerked his thumb at the good-looking guy with pale green eyes. “And that guy is Dominic Tartan. He’s a friend of Thomas Decker, one of the Missouri Reps.”

Dominic stepped up and held out his hand. “Enough about us,” he said when I gave his hand a shake. “I’d like to know more about you. Like when do you get off work?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. One, he was very cute. And two, I’d spent the last eight months with people seeing me as damaged goods. It was really nice to have a man look at me like a woman and not a victim. “Considering I own the place, not until it closes.”

“I’d love to have a drink or something if you’re interested.”

“Tartan!” Randy Lowry said grinning. “Dude. You stole my thunder.”

Dominic laughed, and I liked the ease of him. “Snooze, you lose, Lowry.” He winked at me.

I shook my head and smiled. “Not tonight. I’m beat.” I took pleasure in his disappointment. God, how I wished Billy Bob were in the restaurant now! Oh, my God. I did
not
just think that. Ack! “But I’ll be available Sunday afternoon if you’d like to get a bite to eat down at Blonde Bear Café?”

Dominic grinned. “It’s a date, Chavvah.”

I cast a coy glance his way as he turned to leave. “Looking forward to it,” I said softly. He stopped, turned back, and smiled.

“I have a date,” I said out loud after they left. Suddenly, my stomach felt squidgy, and I resisted the urge to run after Dominic and cancel.

After seven, the place was nearly empty. I walked to Sunny, who’d put her feet up in one of the booths. I put my hands on her shoulders and rubbed. “Why don’t you go home, hon? It’s been a long day, and I don’t expect them to get any shorter this week. I’ll finish cleaning up.”

She reached across her large, ballooning breasts and patted my hand. “I suppose you’re right. Besides, I need to get home and empty these suckers before they explode.” She gave me a wry look. “Again.” She sighed. “I should have pumped before the dinner crowd, but we’ve just been too busy.” She handed me a wad of bills from her half-apron. “Some really great tips today.” She put her finger to her temple as if she were getting a vision. “I see new drains in our future.”

“Woo hoo.” I knew her visions had been scarce since giving birth to Jude. I think it bothered her more than she let on. “If you say it, it must be true.”

“You don’t have to say that.” She grabbed her boobs with both hands. “Noooo,” she whined.

I looked at her chest, it was hard not to, and damn, and the front of her pink top was soaked. “You’re leaking all over the place. You need to start wearing nursing pads or something.” She complained they gave her saucer-nipples.

She crossed her arms over her breast, making the milk flow harder. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

I smiled. “Do you want me to call Babe to come get you?” The door jangled again, and my brother sauntered in as if on cue. “Speak of the devil.”

“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


A
nd 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.

BOOK: Thank You For Not Shifting (Peculiar Mysteries Book 2)
3.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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