Page 3 of Shifters in the Night

Even with the tiny frown lines crinkling her brow. Probably because he’d said the words “fantasy delivery service” where other people could hear.

“Your house?” she asked.

Jon’s mouth quirked upwards. “You didn’t notice the house next to where you were swimming?”

Her mouth dropped open and she clapped her hand over it. “No.”

“Blue siding, recently power washed?” he suggested. “Big dock sticking out of the backyard?”

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, giggling and clapping a hand to her mouth again. It was like the mask she’d been wearing slipped and he got a glimpse at the woman he’d seen by the water, happy and carefree. “I was just so caught up in the water and the moonlight that I didn’t realize I was near any sort of human housing.”

“Well, I’m not exactly human,” he offered, letting the fridge door close next to him. For a disorienting moment, he felt completely alien in his own body, and not in a “supernatural being who lives in two forms” way. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or his arms, or even his face. He thought maybe he was grimacing. He couldn’t be sure. Would it be rude to check his reflection in the dairy case to make sure he didn’t have some awful horror villain grin on his face?

Jon heard a throat clear behind him. Riley Kauffman gave him an incredulous look, while gesturing to the coffee creamer. He’d been repairing the Kauffman family’s boats for decades. Riley’s Papa used to bring pint-sized Riley to his workshop so she could question him through every step of spark plug replacement. Stu Kauffman thought it was good for Jon to “get more socialization” – also Stu thought it was hilarious, watching Riley interrogate other adults besides himself. Being human, Riley was aging at a much faster rate than Jon. Standing there, watching her as a mother to toddlers currently gumming on cookies from the bakery, Jon felt every one of his eighty-plus years.

“Don’t get between me and my coffee condiments, Jon,” she told him, shaking her head. “I need my coffee.”

“Sorry, Riley,” he said, reaching into the cooler. “Pumpkin spice?”

“Well, now you’re just insulting me,” Riley grumbled, sliding past him to grab a bottle of hazelnut creamer.

The deer-lady was watching all of this with growing amusement, if the press of her full lips was any indication. Riley pushed her cart away, leaving a trail of cookie crumbs in her wake, muttering something about the availability of holiday coffee creamers.

“You’re a deer, huh? That’s interesting,” he offered awkwardly.

Her eyes went wide and she muttered, “So you were watching me for quite some time.”

He could feel a guilty flush creeping up his neck. Maybe he could just close himself in the cooler and tunnel his way out of the back? But he stayed, because being a peeping Tom and a refrigerator mole-man was probably worse.

“Do people speak so openly of their other forms here?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Well, it’s considered rude to ask ‘what someone is’ outright, but I’ve already seen your other form, so it’s sort of a gray area,” Jon said.

“You’ve seen all of my forms,” she retorted.

“Again, I would just like to point out that you were skinny-dippin’ in my backyard.”

Her shoulders sagged and she seemed to relax ever so slightly. “You make a reasonable point. And yes, I’m a deer shifter, technically, a hind. Although, even more technically, hinds are female deer, but there are so many stories centered around hinds, so we made it a catch-all term for all of us. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He cleared his throat, embarrassed to have been caught staring at her, but truly hoping that he would be there when she met Jillian. “Sorry, it’s just that you remind me of a friend of mine.”

She smiled warmly and his guts felt like they were turned inside out … but in a good way?

She asked, “So, you’re a local, then?”

“My family’s lived here for damn near forever. The only ones that have lived here longer are the Boones,” Jon said.

“Whose names appear to be on all of the business signs in town,” she noted.

“And the Berends, who everybody likes better than the Boones, which is why Berends keep getting elected as mayors. It’s a good place to grow up, especially if you’re one of us,” Jon said.

“I only saw your … tail? I don’t know what sort of shifter that makes you. And now I realize I shouldn’t ask, so I’m just going to leave that out there,” Lia said.

“I’m a selkie,” he said. “Half-man, half-seal. My brother lets his friends make Little Mermaid jokes, which I don’t find very funny. But that’s probably not relevant to you.”

She stared at him as if trying to figure out whether she was supposed to laugh. He gave her his best encouraging expression and cleared his throat. “I suppose I should have started off with my name. Jon Carmody.”

“Lia Doe.”

---