Page 55 of Shifting Tides

Gram stood up. “Right. Dinner. Wrap this up, and come on,” she said, waving at my homework.

I slumped. “Right.”

Gram stopped at the door. “You'd tell me if any shifters or vampires were harassing you, right? After what happened to your friend Arya and her poor mother…”

I pasted on a smile. “Yeah, Gram. Sure.”

She hovered there, searching my face. The oven timer wailed again.

My phone started ringing, vibrating toward the edge of my nightstand. Relieved for the distraction, I grabbed it, my eyes lighting up as I scanned the screen. Arya.

“Gotta take this.”

Gram pursed her lips but nodded and closed the door.

“Ahhh, I've missed you!” I squealed into the phone when I swiped the answer button.

Arya laughed. “Missed you more. That's actually why I'm calling. There's going to be a shifter party tomorrow night.”

“At The Dome?” I wasn't sure I should try my luck again so soon.

“No, a were’s house. We're all headed topside for it. You should come. We need to catch up.”

My grin started to fade as I remembered Gram, Caesar, and Celeste.

“Do you think...? I mean, would it be okay, me not being a student and everything?”And I'm a witch, which no one seems to like,I wanted to add.

Arya hesitated a moment. “I don't see why it wouldn't be okay. And it's not like we're all going to be walking around in shifter form. I think. Anyway, if anyone asks, just tell them you’re new and haven't gotten the hang of shifting yet. I’ve got a new friend, Ashlyn. She’s a phoenix who can't shift, and she's been here a few months.”

My smile came back in full force. “Ooh, fire.” An idea was forming. I jotted down the details as Arya rattled them off. We said our goodbyes and hung up.

I checked my closet for something to wear. Jeans and t-shirts—quirky as they were—didn’t feel quite right. But I didn’t want to wear a dress. And not one thing felt fresh or exciting. What exactlywouldshifters wear to a party? I laughed at myself.Yeah, like there’s some dress code for people who look like animals part-time.

I fingered through my all-too-familiar outfits, then gave up with a sigh. Maybe I’d have time to get a new outfit before the weekend hit. Then again, I didn’t want to look like some thirsty chick vying for attention.

“Shea, come on! Dinner!” came Gram’s voice from down the hall.

I sighed. There was one other thing I needed to do before I could officially pose as a phoenix. Fire. The spell was simple enough—and one of the few I knew—but I couldn’t remember the word. Something like...

“Turn on,” I mumbled, though I knew it wasn’t right. Fire wasn’t one of my usual tricks, not after that incident in first grade. I stuck to unlocking and moving stuff. Moving was especially useful for pranking people, so long as they couldn’t see my eyes when I did it.

Despite Gram’s insistence that I not play with magic, my mother had demanded that I at least know a few spells to defend myself. Before she… Anyway, I wasn’t much of a candle girl, so I rarely had much reason or opportunity to burn anything.

I snapped my fingers repeatedly, trying to jar my memory. “Kat? No. Kit? Unh, uh. Ummmm.”

“Shea?” Gram called again.

“Just a minute!” I called back. I could always ask her, though I didn’t want to raise any suspicions. “Oooh! Khet— Ow!” I shook my hands as the burning sensation dissipated from my fingertips. I was on the right track.

“Food’s getting cold!”

I groaned, my shoulders slumping. “Coming,” I grumbled to myself. Maybe it was time for a refresher course.

I went down the hallway to the dining area, our small table and four chairs nearly filling the space. It was just off a cramped galley kitchen, and opened right into the living room, all decorated in a kitschy-country manner. Gram was sitting at the dining table, scarfing down the delicious meal she’d prepared without waiting.

I plopped into the seat opposite her, inhaling the warm, comforting aroma of spaghetti. “Ah, Gram, you outdid yourself.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I make potpie, and you don’t bat an eye. But throw some noodles in some water?”

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