Page 43 of Shifter's Dream

Khain smiled. Laughed. Popped out of existence, then popped right back in, a triumphant smile on his face.

There had been no earthquake.

Grey struggled to his feet. The demon was looking at him, pointing at him.

“Rex, Soren, take him and whoever else you need and bring me the wolf in the coma.”

26 – It’s Actually Fuchsia

Troy sat in the hard chair in Remington’s cold kitchen and bent over his work. He practiced his writing, the same six words over and over again, a pile of crumpled paper building on the floor next to him.

His hand cramped. He’d been writing all night and all day, and he didn’t think he could write one more letter. Troy stopped writing, dropped the pen, and flexed his hand, rubbing his forearm. He grabbed up the spoon and shoveled caviar into his mouth with it, thrilled when he didn’t spill out even one tiny egg. He was way better.

He hadn’t slept at all, well, maybe an hour at dawn, before the house woke up. Remington hadn’t been around and Troy wondered where he ate his meals.

Speak of the cat, the front door opened and his scent pushed in front of him. Remington came in the kitchen. He crossed the room, passing Troy, grabbing up some of the silverware Troy had never quite figured out how to use.

“This is for campfires, hot dogs, marshmallows, that kind of thing, and you don’t stick it in your mouth,” he said, pitching the long fork looking thing into the sink, then grabbing up the claw and the pliers. “And these are for seafood, something you should stay away from for now.”

“Seafood, got it,” Troy said. “How doyouhold a pen, Remington?”

Remington gave him a funny look, then he came in close and demonstrated. For afelen, he was an awfully nice guy, and of course, Troy would do anything he ever asked. Like Conri, he got a lifetime pass for everything he’d done for Track, Treena, and Ella.

“Interesting,” Troy said, trying to emulate what Remington had done. Everyone did it a little bit differently, and so far, none of it was working very well for Troy because he had ham hands. Big old useless hocks at the end of his arms that could punch and grab perfectly, but they didn’t want to do this fine shit.

Remington had gone to the sink and was washing something, staring out the window, his body tense. Troy stared at his back. He’d never asked afelenhow they shifted. Maybe he should.

“Do you see that crack in the face of the bluff?” Remington said, turning to Troy and pointing out the kitchen window to his backyard where it touched the forest that led to the stark bluff face.

Troy nodded.

“The earthquakes must have opened it up. It was only a foot wide yesterday, now it’s at least six feet wide.”

Troy got up to look, but his brother called him.

Troy, where are you?Trevor asked clearly in his head, probably from home.

Rowr, Track added in Troy’s mind.

Troy smiled.Hey little buddy, that was really good. Yourruhiis strong.

Rowr,Track agreed.

Remington’s,Troy told his brother.

We need to go to Mugshots today, get your mate’s name. Me and you together, Troy, we need to at least know where she lives.

Troy had known it was coming.Totally, but can you just give me a few more hours? There’s two things I need to get good at first.

Ok, this afternoon then.

Can you ask Ella if she can help me make a bacon bouquet?

A bacon…

Yeah, you know, bacon, curled up like a rose and fried crisp, and then you put it on a paper stalk and give it to your female.

Does she… like bacon?

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