by Alyssa Day
Once she’d lucked into a coin that had been rare enough that the historian had raved about it in his online forums. Collectors had burned up our phone lines, and the profit from that one coin had bought Shelley’s mom a five-year-old Ford Taurus to drive to work and Shelley the latest American Girl doll, complete with full wardrobe and a tiny, carved bed. She’d shown me pictures of the whole collection, each item carefully circled in the shiny doll catalog, the next time Melody brought her in to sell a coin.
“How is Elizabeth?” I asked her, remembering the doll’s name.
A frown creased her face. “She misses my mom,” she said, barely whispering.
I wanted to hug her again, but the stiffness in her posture warned me not to do it. I’d been where she was now, and sometimes unasked-for hugs had made me want to scream or cry, because sympathy was the worst.
It was hard to be strong when adults were raining “poor baby” all over you.
“Well, let’s take a look at these coins,” I said briskly, while the last of the GYST folks chattered and waved their way out the door.
I examined them carefully, to be sure they were gold, and then nodded. “Looks good. Our usual deal?”
Every time I asked, and every time she agreed, but it was part of our ritual. I counted out two tens, two fives, and ten ones and handed it over, and wrote her a receipt. She signed it with careful block letters MICHELLE ANNE ADLER—always her full name—and I handed over her copy.
“Okay, I’ll send these off to Dr. Parrish, and we’ll settle up next time you—”
Walt Kowalski slammed one meaty fist down on the counter, making me flinch, and pointed a finger at my face with his other hand. “What the hell is that? You cheat little girls now, Callahan? You know those coins are worth more than that.”
Shelley cowered away from him, and I wanted to punch him right in his stupid, belligerent face. Walt had thick lips, an over-sized balding head, and no neck. His brother Hank was a marginally better-looking version of Walt, and it was rare to see one without the other, so I expected Hank to come charging in the shop any minute.
“I’m going to get my gun,” Eleanor announced, and disappeared into the back.
“No guns,” I shouted, feeling like I was rapidly losing control of my shop, my life, and everything else.
“And you! You get your finger out of my face, Walt Kowalski,” I said fiercely. “Or do you have a burning need to find out just exactly how you’re going to die?”
I’d never threatened anyone with my gift before, but if ever there’d been a reason to do it, now seemed like the time. I acted like I was reaching to touch his hand, which I knew neither one of us wanted.
His face turned bright red with rage, but he lowered his hand and backed off a step. “Freak.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” I shot back. “Not that it’s any of your damned business, but yes, those coins are almost certainly worth more than twenty dollars each. We send them off to get valued, and then we give Shelley the balance of the sale amount.”
Shelley, her shoulders hunched up almost to her ears, swallowed audibly but then spoke up. “It’s true, Mr. Walt. Remember when Mommy bought that car?”
“It’s Uncle Walt,” he snapped at her, before returning his attention to me. “You’d better be ready to turn over that money soon, or you’ll be sorry.”
I’d had enough. More than enough. I came out from behind the counter and got right up in his face. “Don’t you ever threaten me again, you…” I glanced at Shelley and rethought the very satisfying name I’d been about to call him. “You…not-very-nice person.”
He laughed. There was spittle. I wanted to barf.
He loomed over me. “Or what, Red?”
I hated to be called Red, and he knew it. He and Hank had enjoyed tormenting me in school, and calling me Red was just the tip of the iceberg, because they were exactly the type to pick on kids a lot littler than they were. Creeps. Someday, I still intended to wreak my vengeance for the many, many times they’d filled my desk full of toads. (Apparently, living in a house that was practically in the swamp, plus being part of a family of witches, equaled access to a lot of toads.) That, no matter how miserable it had made me at the time, had been kids’ stuff. This was far more ominous.
Walt and Hank had been horrible little boys, and they’d grown up into horrible men. I wanted to take Shelley away from them right this minute, but the sheriff had given Olga his blessing and there wasn’t anything I could do about it until I had some kind of proof that they weren’t acting in Shelley’s best interests.
Yes, I’d looked it up.
“Or what?” Walt repeated, leering at me and being very obvious about trying to look down my shirt.
Suddenly, the air in the room changed, and the tiny hairs on my arms stood straight up.
Jack.
“Or I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them around your head, and make you walk down the street like that,” Jack said, in a deep, rough voice that carried so much menace that Walt’s face drained of all color.
I glanced at Shelley, afraid that she’d be terrified by such a graphic description, but she was—shockingly—smiling just a little bit, and the look on her face was as fierce as the word on her shirt. Seemed like Shelley hadn’t turned into quite the timid mouse she was pretending to be, in spite of everything.
Walt slowly turned around, and I backed away, took Shelley’s hand, and pulled her behind the safety of the counter. The last thing I wanted was for her to get in the middle of whatever this was going to be.
Come to think of it, I didn’t want the delicate glass counters or fragile treasures in my shop to be in the middle of it, either. I grabbed the baseball bat that leaned against the corner and walked right in between the two men before anything physical could start happening.
“A couple of things. First, I don’t appreciate being threatened in my own shop.”
“Our own shop,” Jack inserted, and Walt looked confused.
I sent Jack a warning look. “Second, I don’t want any kind of fighting in here.”
Walt clenched his hands into fists and sneered at me. “I don’t really care what you want, Red.”
Jack took a single step forward and roared.
When I say roared, I don’t mean any growl or snarl or little housecat kind of thing. This was a deep, primal, “watch out, puny humans, I will take your head off with one bite” kind of roar. I dropped the bat, because my fingers quit knowing how to work. Behind me, Shelley squeaked. Walt made an odd noise that sounded like he was swallowing his tongue.
Jack pushed his sleeves back, and I noticed that his tanned arms were now very faintly banded with orange and black stripes. He looked at Walt, pinning him in place with his suddenly amber gaze. “Do you know who I am?”
Walt nodded frantically.
“Do you know what I am?”
“Yes. I know,” Walt said, his voice hoarse with fear.
“I will hunt you down and hurt you very badly if you ever even think about setting foot in this shop again,” Jack told him, enunciating each word very clearly. “Nod if you understand me.”
Walt opened his mouth as if to argue, but then he must have reconsidered, because he just nodded.
“Out. Now,” Jack said.
Walt was all but running by the time he hit the door.
“That was awesome,” Shelley said, grinning from ear to ear. “You are the best. Are you a lion?”
Jack crouched down so he was eye level with the girl, and he grinned. “Lion,” he scoffed. “Did you know that we tigers have the largest brains in the cat kingdom?”
“You’re a tiger?” Her eyes got so big and round that she looked like a Japanese manga character. “A real tiger? A shifter, right?”
He nodded. “I am. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
She tossed her head. “Ha. I’m not scared. But you scared stupid Mr. Walt.”
“He deserved it,” Jack said solemnly. “He was threatening Tess.�
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“You’re right,” she agreed. “Will you show me the tiger?”
I shook my head. “Honey, we don’t just ask shapeshifters to change their form. It can take them a long time and be painful to do that, and it’s kind of personal, and—”
“Stand back, Shelley,” Jack said. He stood up, grinned at me, and transformed in seconds into an enormous tiger, right there in the middle of Dead End Pawn.
And then Eleanor came running back into the room and shot him.
Chapter Nine
Luckily for Jack, Eleanor had terrible aim.
She missed him completely. But she blew a gaping hole in Fluffy’s tail that I didn’t think would be easily mended.
“Put the gun down,” I shouted.
She had the nerve to look flustered. “But—”
“No. You just shot at my business partner.”
Jack made a deep coughing sound, his tail lashing back and forth, and Eleanor hastily put the gun on the counter.
I snatched it up and locked it in the drawer under the cash register. “I’m keeping this until I get over the sight of you going all Dirty Harriet on me, which might be never.”
She didn’t even glance over at me. “Is that a tiger? In our shop?”
This time, it was little Shelley who rolled her eyes, even though she looked down at her flashing shoes to try to hide it. Manners started early in the south.
“Eleanor, you knew that Jack was a tiger shifter,” I said, using my best reasonable voice to try to reassure her.
Then I gave up trying to be reasonable and just stared in utter and complete wonder at the tiger in our shop.
He was absolutely beautiful. He was a Bengal tiger, Jeremiah had told me once. He was vividly orange with black stripes that looked like they’d been painted on by a master artist. His chest was white, as was the ruff around his face, and the tips of his rounded ears. He stood very still, head held regally high. Letting us get used to him, I guess, or showing off, which I would totally do if I were the gorgeous tiger in the middle of the room.
Shelley, who had to be the bravest kid on the planet, raised her hand. “Mr. Tiger? Can I pet you?”
I froze. Was that a good idea? When Jack went furry, did some instinctive tiger sense make him look at children and small animals as prey?
As if he could hear my thoughts, Jack turned his massive head toward me and slowly, carefully, closed one eye.
“Did you just wink at me?” I didn’t know whether to be outraged or impressed.
He ignored the questions—well, it wasn’t like he was going to start talking in that shape—and padded over to Shelley. In motion, he was liquid grace personified. The muscles under his shoulders shifted as he walked, conveying the immense power of the animal.
Person.
Shapeshifter.
Argh. This was going to be complicated.
When he reached the girl, he lowered his head and ever-so-gently butted against her tiny hand. She gasped, but then she delicately petted the top of his head. I held my breath, not having any idea what to do next, but Jack took the decision out of my hands.
He started to purr.
My mouth fell open, and Shelley let loose a bright, high peal of laughter, looking happier than I’d seen her since her mother died. For that gift, I wanted to give Jack a round of applause, furry or no. I settled for a smile.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Eleanor said, then she clapped both hands to her mouth.
“Eleanor! I’ve never heard you swear in my life,” I said, half-laughing and half-dismayed.
“We’ve never had a full-grown tiger in the shop, either,” she said tartly, and I couldn’t disagree.
“We had a full-grown alligator, but you shot the hell out of it.” I pointed to what was left of Fluffy, and suddenly we were both cracking up like loons.
“It’s a good thing the GYSTers are gone. Can you imagine? They thought seeing an alligator was exciting,” Eleanor said, nearly breathless with laughter.
“Would you like to pet him, Miss Tess?” Shelley looked up at me, her eyes shining. “He likes it.”
Suddenly, I felt shy. On the one hand, I wanted nothing more than to run my hands down the tiger’s fur. This magnificent creature was like a breath out of time, a symbol of the jungle that should never have been found in such a mundane setting as our small-town pawnshop.
On the other hand, this wasn’t some random tiger. This was Jack. Jeremiah’s nephew. My new business partner. The man who’d stirred more than a few far-from-platonic thoughts in my mind since he’d shown up yesterday. It didn’t seem right to pet him like I would Lou.
“Maybe another time,” I said, finally.
“Forget that. I’m going to pet him now,” Eleanor said. She marched right up to him and scratched behind his ears, like he was a dog, and I closed my eyes and hoped he didn’t bite her hand off. After all, she had just tried to shoot him.
He put up with it for a few seconds, and then started lashing that long tail around.
“I think that means we should move back again,” Shelley said, and Eleanor quickly moved to give him room.
Shelley, however, after hesitating a moment, flung herself at Jack and hugged his neck, which was so big that her little arms didn’t go all the way around it, and burst into tears.
I didn’t understand what she was saying at first, because her face was pressed against the tiger’s fur, but then I realized she was saying “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over. Jack turned his amber eyes up to me with what I guessed was desperation. He hadn’t been good with tears when he was in human form, either. I touched Shelley’s shoulder and then gently pulled her away from Jack.
“Come on, honey. Let’s give Jack some room.”
She turned to me and hugged my waist with the same fervent emotion, her thin body trembling. I wrapped her in my arms and held on, knowing that the only thing to do was wait for the storm to pass.
“I miss her so much.” Her voice was hoarse with grief, and I could feel my eyes burning.
“I know you do, sweetheart. I lost my mom when I was little too, and I know it hurts so much. There’s nothing I can say or do to make it stop hurting. It will never stop hurting, and that’s okay, because that means you love her.”
Her sobs slowed down, but it took a little while for them to finally subside.
“Will it ever hurt less?” Her voice was barely audible over the sound of my heart breaking for her.
I hugged her even more tightly and started to rock her back and forth with small, gentle movements. “Oh, honey. Yes, it will. I promise. But it takes time.”
“Tess is right,” Jack said.
I hadn’t even realized he’d changed to human, since I’d had my back to him while I comforted Shelley. The realization startled me. I’d had my back to a tiger. Some part of me must actually trust Jack already, without me even knowing it, or I wouldn’t have turned my back on a quarter-ton of wild cat who had teeth as long as my fingers.
“Does it take a very long time to stop hurting, Mr. Jack?”
“It does take a while. You know what helps, though? Ice cream. Ice cream helps a lot,” he said.
I glanced over to find him smiling at me. “Maybe Tess would like to help me take you out for lunch, and we will have giant ice cream sundaes and nothing at all healthy.”
She peeked up at him. “Mommy always said food first, dessert later.”
“Then we will have hamburgers and fries and giant ice cream sundaes.”
He was so pleased with himself that I couldn’t help returning his smile, but I also couldn’t help teasing him. “Are you sure you don’t want tuna fish with your ice cream? Tuna is my cat Lou’s favorite.”
Shelley wrinkled her nose. “Ew. That’s disgusting.”
“Agreed.” Jack held out a hand, and Shelley took it without hesitation. “Burgers, fries, ice cream, hold the tuna.”
“Maybe a bowl of milk and a Meow Mix sundae?” I said, grabbing my purse.
He wrinkled his nose in an exaggerated show of disgust for Shelley’s benefit, and she laughed. Score one for the tiger.
“I’ll be back later,” I told Eleanor.
“Take your time,” she said, making a shooing motion at me with one hand. “I’ve got things here.”
“A bowl of milk? You’re pushing it, Callahan,” Jack called back to me, holding open the door. “Hurry up. We have ice cream to eat.”
Shelley giggled again, and I headed out the door.
After lunch, we’d have to figure out what to do about Shelley. She couldn’t go back to the Kowalskis after this. Surely the sheriff wouldn’t make her go back to them, would he? No. Not if I had anything to do with it.
*
Turns out, I didn’t.
Susan Gonzalez met us on our way into Beau’s Diner.
“Deputy,” Jack said, nodding.
Susan’s sharp gaze didn’t miss Shelley clutching Jack’s hand for dear life, and her lips tightened. “Mr. Shepherd. Tess. I’m here to take Shelley home.”
“No,” I blurted out. “Susan, you can’t—”
“We were just going to get some lunch and some ice cream,” Jack said. “Right, Shelley?”
Shelley nodded, looking back and forth between Jack and me.
“Sure,” Susan said, smiling at the girl. “But how about we get that lunch to go, and I’ll take you back to Mrs. Kowalski? She’s worried about you.”
Shelley bit her lip, looking torn, and then nodded again.
Jack shot me a grim look over Shelley’s head, so she couldn’t see it, and then smiled down at her and opened the door to let out a wave of conversation and laughter, and the scent of grilled burgers and onions. Beau’s was a popular place at lunchtime on Fridays.
“Susan, you can’t do this. Walt—”
“Is an asshole,” she said, pulling me away from the doorway so people could come and go. “But Walt doesn’t live with them. He was doing Olga a favor by taking Shelley to see you with her coins, and Jack attacked him, according to him.”