Page 47 of The Dog in the Alley

Rayn turned to look at him. “Detective Hart has been better,” he said. “I would like to help him be better again.”

By my feet, Taavi made a snorting noise.

Rayn looked down. “Is that your dog?” he asked me. “He’s… not right.”

Taavi stared up at him, and his head twisted to the side to study Rayn with his brown eye.

“He’s a shifter, Rayn,” Ward said, rolling up to us, probably because Rayn hadn’t been responsive to simply being called.

“Oh. That explains it,” was the response, as though having a shifter walking around in dog form were perfectly normal. Then he crouched down and held out his hand. “Hello shifter-person. My name is Rayn, and it is nice to meet you.”

Taavi looked up at me.

I shrugged.

Taavi put his paw in Rayn’s outstretched hand, and Rayn gently shook it.

“His name is Taavi,” I supplied.

Taavi let out a chuff.

“That’s Xolo shifter for ‘it’s nice to meet you,’” I told Rayn.

“It’s good to officially meet you, Taavi,” Ward said, smiling down at him.

Taavi chuffed again.

“So our mystery friend has a name now,” came a deep, rolling voice from behind me.

I didn’t bother turning. “Hey, Doc.”

“Hart.” Doc crouched down to put himself closer to Taavi’s level. It wasn’t really possible for him to get all the way down there without lying down, but it was a nice gesture, I guess. “Welcome to Beyond the Veil, Taavi.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Not to break up the party, but are Raj and his medium here?”

“Not yet,” Ward replied. “I got an email from Agent Parikh that they were running a bit behind, but that we should feel free to set up without them.”

I nodded. “Well, at least I’m not the last one here, then.” I held out the box of donuts. “And I brought breakfast.”

“I already had breakfast,” Rayn put in.

I stared at him. “Um. You could have a second breakfast? If you would like a donut, anyway.”

“No, thank you,” Rayn replied very politely. “I only eat food that I make,” he told me, which I guess made sense. I almost asked him if raw ingredients had the same problem as other inanimate things, but decided not to because I wasn’t sure I could handle that much conversation. Which, of course, made me feel like a dick.

“Rayn, can you go manage the front desk again, please?” Ward asked the psychic witch, probably taking pity on me.

“But I would like to help Detective Hart to feel better,” he objected.

Ward shot me a look that held an undercurrent of annoyance.

“Um. I—ah. I appreciate that,” I settled on, finally. “But what’s bothering me isn’t something you can help with. But, um. Thanks for wanting to help.” I am so fucking awkward.

“Oh,” was Rayn’s response. “I hope you can figure out how to get better again, detective. I’m going to go back to the desk now.”

“Um. Thanks,” was all I could think to say.

Ward grimaced. “We’re still working a bit on not taking things too literally,” he explained.

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