Page 17 of Reconditioning the Wolf

Ishmael kept that thought to himself. While he figured it was possible that he would like one, he didn’t want to risk it. Plus, if he didn’t have to drink it to fit in, then he wanted to know that right up front.

Wait. Am I really thinking about staying?

If I’m with Madagascar and he’s not lying about shifters, then yeah, I think I’d like that.

“I, uh—” Ishmael rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced from the guy manning the coffee fire to Madagascar again. He leaned close to his lover and whispered, “I’m not a real big fan of coffee. Can I just have water, please?”

“Of course, buddy,” the stranger replied, rising from where he’d been sitting. He held out his hand. “I’m Hunter, a human,” he added with a smirk after Ishmael had taken his hand. After releasing him, Hunter told him, “And if you want something other than water, we have a couple of types of tea as well as several kinds of juice.” Waving toward one of the carafes, he told him, “That’s hot water. The tea bags are in the bag near it.”

Ishmael hesitated before admitting, “I-I don’t know if I like tea.”

Hunter didn’t bat an eyelash. He just nodded. “All right. Do you have a favorite kind of juice?” Using a thumb to point over his shoulder at the house, Hunter told him, “The ones I’m sure we have are orange juice, apple juice, and cranberry juice, but there could be others.” He barked a laugh as he grinned broadly. “Hell, if you’re a soda, lemonade, or energy drink in the morning guy, you’ll probably find a few of those options in there, too.”

“Uh, orange juice,” Ishmael decided quickly, knowing he liked that. “Orange juice would be great.”

“I’ll get it for you.” A small man sporting short, spikey black hair with white at the tips appeared next to Hunter. He grinned widely at him. “I’m Yuma.” Holding out his hand, he added, “Penguin shifter, and this one’s mate.”

After Ishmael shook his hand, he murmured, “Penguin shifter.” He looked at Madagascar. “Is he one of the ones you said wouldn’t mind shifting for me?”

As Madagascar nodded, Yuma chuckled. “I’d be happy to shift for you.” He grinned broadly as he stated, “Most humans think my penguin’s cute, so it’s easier for them the first time around.” Yuma waved his hand absently. “A lot of these guys change into some pretty scary-looking animals. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!” He ended with a snicker-snort.

“Really?” Ishmael peered at Madagascar. “Lions and tigers?”

Considering his lover claimed to be a brown bear and Zhaul had told him he was a giant panda, the bear part didn’t surprise him.

“Yep.” It was Hunter who responded. “That’s Adam, and he’s a white tiger.” He pointed at a man with white-blond hair sitting at a nearby fire.

Obviously hearing his name, Adam looked in their direction and lifted a hand in a wave. “Hey, man.”

Ishmael waved back tentatively.

“And that’s Grimes, a lion shifter,” Hunter continued, pointing at a large black-haired man. Ishmael knew who he meant because he followed up by saying, “The smaller guy on his lap is Chip. He’s a bobcat shifter.”

His mind reeling, Ishmael could only mutter, “Oh.”

“Sorry to overwhelm ya, man,” Hunter stated with an understanding smile. “Too many names and faces.”

“I’ll get your juice,” Yuma once again proclaimed before trotting off toward the house.

“Time for breakfast,” Madagascar stated after getting his own cup of coffee.

Feeling his stomach gurgle, Ishmael silently agreed.

*

“It’s not real. It’s not real.” Ishmael stared at the penguin before him. Sitting on the ground from where he’d tripped and fallen, he wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked on his ass. “It’s not real.”

“Ishmael, it is real,” Madagascar claimed, kneeling beside him. He had his arms wrapped around him, and even though the dark man continued talking, Ishmael couldn’t resist pressing into him. “I told you what was going to happen, Ishmael. Why do you think you’re suddenly having a delusion now?”

Even though Madagascar sounded so calm and sure, Ishmael had to admit, “I haven’t taken my medication in over thirty-six hours. I’m supposed to take it twice a day, and I missed last night and this morning.”

A second later, icy cold water poured over Ishmael and Madagascar’s heads. While Ishmael gasped and jolted, Madagascar snarled and jumped to his feet.

“What the hell, Payson?” Madagascar roared, clenching his hands into fists.

Payson shrugged, not looking at all perturbed by Madagascar’s show of ire. “Ishmael doesn’t believe that the penguin in front of him is real.” He dropped the plastic cup onto the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. Smirking at Ishmael, Payson asked, “Do you believe I just poured cold water on your head?”

Ishmael winced as he felt his wet jeans mold uncomfortably to his legs. “Yeah,” he muttered, brushing water from his eyes.

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