Page 32 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
“They’d only tell me that it’s a sports figure. I’m guessing it’s Jorge Sanchez with the Orioles. Rumor is he’s got an offer in on a huge eighteenth-century farmhouse this side of the Liberty Reservoir.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.” I wasn’t as sports-focused as Stephanie and had no idea who Jorge Sanchez was, but a season featuring my gym buddy helping restore/modernize an old farmhouse was a must-watch.
We both fell silent and glanced down at the menu as our waitress approached.
I ordered the crabmeat hash and Fried Green Tomato Eggs Benedict with a cup of black coffee. Stephanieordered the fried chicken, biscuit, and gravy omelet with a side of chicken andouille sausage and a large latte.
“Man, I love this place,” I told her once the waitress had left. “If I ate here every day, I’d be huge, so it’s once-a-month only.”
“You need to have a werewolf metabolism. I’ll probably need second breakfast in a few hours even after all this food,” Stephanie said.
“How much of that is werewolf metabolism, and how much is you swinging a sledgehammer and framing out new walls?” I asked.
“A little of both, honestly.” She settled back in her chair, smiling at me. “So? Enough about my job. What did you need to talk to me about?”
“It’s about being a werewolf. I wanted to know what happens to any man-made material in your body when you shift forms?” I asked, diving right into the matter.
“Well, we have to take out piercings beforehand, or they just fall out.” She laughed. “Except there was one hunt where Jazmine’s gold hoop stayed in her left ear. We teased the heck out of her. Matt still calls her ‘Pirate Jaz.’ Tattoos vanish in our wolf form but reappear when we turn human again. I’ve got no idea how that works, but I’m glad because I don’t want to have to get new ink every time I go for a hunt.”
“How about things like fillings, or dental implants, or knee replacements?” I asked, wanting to confirm what I’d read in that medical paper.
Stephanie steepled her fingers and rested her chin on them. “That depends a lot on the individual shifter. Since we’re all descended from angels—Nephilim, actually—we each have varying degrees of what you’d call magic. Some of us can’t tolerate silver at all—we’re talking Epi-pen levelreactions—others just get itchy, others have no problem at all with the metal. Things like hip and knee replacements? It’s a toss-up whether the device will tear through us during a shift, or if it stays and remains there when we shift back.”
I sucked in a breath, horrified at the thought of a titanium knee replacement breaking through skin, muscle, and bone as a werewolf changed form.
“It’s bad,” she said in response to the expression on my face. “There’s a demon-owned company that’s been working with a sorcerer and an angel to produce medical equipment that adjusts to a shifter’s change in form. I’ve heard their products are in clinical trials and aren’t available outside of a few select practices. And they’d be expensive. Either way, not many doctors would probably be willing to perform the surgery since there are certain methods that need to be followed with shifters, and we’re not always good under anesthesia.”
“Is the equipment manufacturer DarRafi Inc.?” I’d done some internet research and hadn’t been sure if the company was a fake or not. A demon, an archangel, and a human sorcerer working together? It sounded like the prelude to a joke about them walking into a bar.
She nodded. “That’s them. They’re based out of Chicago. Are you thinking of offering services to supernaturals? Because sign me up as your first client.” Stephanie pulled the corner of her mouth aside and showed me a gap where her number fifteen tooth should be. “Cracked a molar on a deer bone five years ago and could never get the crown to stay on through a shift, so I just had the dentist pull it. I saved up for one of those fancy implants, but the closest reconstruction dentist that is approved for the clinical trials and works with shifters is in Boston.”
Excitement coursed through me. I’d emailed DarRafiInc. and requested to be added to their clinical trials, highlighting my extensive experience with human dentistry and mentioning that I also had an orc as a client. I might be jumping the gun here, but I was eager to expand my practice…and to help Stephanie replace that missing molar.
“After five years without that tooth you might need some realignment and possibly a bone graft. Call my office and I’ll have them squeeze you in for imaging and an evaluation,” I told her. “Even if I don’t get the approval to use these new implants, I can send the information and images to the dentist up in Boston and hopefully save you an evaluation appointment.”
“That would beawesome!” She grinned. “Werewolves have good regenerative abilities, but obviously it’s not all encompassing since some of us have bum knees and my broken tooth never magically fixed itself. I’d like to hope I wouldn’t need a bone graft, but reality is that I probably do.”
“I’m sure DarRafi has all the equipment I need, and I’d be grafting your own bone, so that would shift when you do.”
At least, I hoped so. I’d need to further dig into medical journals and articles to see. And I’d need to contact DarRafi again for their training videos and materials on the procedure.
“If you get approved for this, you’re going to be swamped with new clients,” Stephanie said. “There are more shifters in the city than you realize, and lots of them need fillings, crowns, partials, and implants. Get ready for a whole lot of clients.”
I wasn’t ready, but I’d get there. I’d hire another dentist willing to specialize in supernatural work if needed. Orcs, humans, and shifters. There were so many beings I could help, so much I could learn.
And all of this was because I’d met a sexy orc hockey player leaning against my car in a parking lot.
Our food and drinks arrived, and we settled into additional conversation about our jobs. Stephanie told me about a house in Hampden she was just beginning work on and the gorgeous chestnut floors that had been buried under layers of carpet for nearly eighty years.
“I’m doing this job solo,” she added. “Remember Dillon? We broke up and there’s no way I’m still employingorsleeping with his cheating ass. Gave him two weeks’ pay and handed him a garbage bag full of his clothes and his half-empty box of Fruit Loops. Good riddance.”
I made a sympathetic noise.
“How about you?” she asked. “Dating anyone?”
“I’ve got a first date tonight with a guy who plays for the Tusks,” I told her, feeling a flush of excitement at the thought of seeing Ozar again.
Stephanie nearly choked on her omelet. “An orc? The hockey team Tusks? Damn. You go, girl. Where’s he taking you?”
