by Erin Johnson
I slumped my head against Peter’s shoulder. “Sounds like a plan. Does this mean we can go to sleep?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve got a few things to wrap up, but we can head out in a few minutes.”
I grinned up at him. “Me and my throbbing headache thank you.”
While Peter moved off to have a word with Inspector Bon, I glanced toward the gleaming white palace. I’d missed my chance to speak to Sam Snakeman and the princess about Ludolf. I bit my lip—sure hoped Madeline was right and that the rally this evening would give me a second chance.
8
Rally
After a few hours of sleep that afternoon, Peter, Daisy, and I dragged ourselves awake and headed up the mountain, back to the palace for the shifters’ rights rally. It’d taken me a while to find her in the massive crowd, but I now stood beside Madeline and her photographer outside the palace gates. The raucous crowd jostled us, and though we stood shoulder to shoulder, I had to lean close and shout at her to be heard. “How are we going to speak to Sam and the princess during this?!”
Without looking, she waved me off. “Shh! It’s starting.”
I rolled my eyes and shoved my hands in the pockets of my quilted bomber jacket. I glanced around for Peter. He’d gotten a call from the station about ten minutes ago and had moved off to try and find a quiet spot to talk. I rose on my toes and glanced over the thousands of heads gathered in front of the golden palace gates.
All around, the night was lit up by torches and glowing wands. People pumped dozens of picket signs over their heads, with slogans like The Tide is Shifting and Shifter Rights are Right! scrawled on them. Counter protestors gathered at the edges, held back by police officers and palace guards. My stomach turned, and I avoided reading their signs, scrawled with hateful sentiments. I hoped Peter could find his way back in all this madness. He had Daisy with him—maybe she could smell us out.
I sank back down on my heels, my heart pounding with excitement and anxiety as Sam Snakeman took the raised stage in front of the gates. He stood behind a podium, flanked by Princess Imogen and Prince Harry. Nothing like this had ever happened, at least in my lifetime. And while the cynic in me knew the tide was never going to change overnight, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of hope that the rally might actually make a difference in the way shifters were viewed and treated.
I strained to catch Sam’s words as he began his speech. Heidi, who was back at my apartment watching over all the trapped shifters, had begged me to give her all the deets later. And Will was working at the clinic, still trying to swim under the net with Ludolf so he wouldn’t suspect him of helping me. But even Will, in his gruff, aloof way, had seemed curious and excited about the rally. Of course, he’d expressed that by warning me not to get trampled.
Sam Snakeman fiddled with the red polka dot bowtie at his neck, and his chin receded. He rolled a shoulder as though his button-up shirt was too tight and tugged at his collar. Princess Imogen and a blond gal beside her gave Sam enthusiastic smiles as the crowd applauded. He waved his hands above his head—signaling for the crowd to quiet. I grinned—he was waving, but with his palms turned toward himself. Interesting.
Sam cleared his throat, then held his wand in front of his mouth. “Thhhank you all for coming here today.” His magically amplified voice rung out over the crowd.
“Asss many know, I wasss born a sssnake and later in life, learned to ssshift into thisss form. I wasss amazed by your beautiful language and art and my favorite passstime, baking.” He looked to the princess and the blond gal, and they beamed at him like proud mothers. I grinned—guess that explained why he waved a little differently—he was new to human gestures. I’d never make fun of him for it, of course—it was just kind of cute.
Some clapping and supportive cheers rang out, but I looked to my left and noticed, at the back of the crowd, that police were working hard to keep back the jostling protestors with their anti-shifter signs. My stomach clenched, and I looked around again for Peter. I hoped he and Daisy weren’t caught up in any incidents with that crowd.
“But I sssoon dissscovered ssssome thingsss about being a man that were lessssss than beautiful.” Sam pressed his lips together, and his throat bobbed. His milky blue eyes teared up behind his glasses.
Madeline leaned over to her photographer. “Are you getting those tears?”
The shutter sounded as the guy captured the moment.
“Sssome people ssseemed to hate me. Jussst becaussse of the way I danccced or ssspoke. They hated me becaussse I am a ssshifter. I didn’t underssstand then. And to be honessst, I don’t underssstand today.”
Applause sounded, and there were whoops of support.
“I fight now for monssster rightsss becaussse they’re jussst creaturesss that the old King Roch usssed as weaponsss againssst you.” His throat bobbed again. “But it’sss the sssame for ssshiftersss. We’ve been usssed by the king to divide usss and distract usss from hisss crimesss. But the truth isss, we’re much more alike than different.”
I clapped along with the crowd at this. My old headmistress at the orphanage, Mrs. Rankle, had recently told me about the old king’s propaganda campaign against shifters. Forty years ago, he’d made the public frightened of us, likening us to the monsters that had rampaged the kingdoms. No matter that it was the king himself who had unleashed the monsters on innocent people. And sea slugs like Ludolf Caterwaul, the mob boss of shifters, had profited off it and used it to their advantage while everyone else suffered.
Sam lifted his chin, a small smile on his face, his cheeks flushed pink. I guessed he was gaining confidence as the crowd chanted and cheered for him. While I normally considered my cynical self a little too cool for school, I couldn’t help but be swept up in the moment. I cupped my hands to the side of my mouth and shouted, “Go, Sam!” My voice was lost in the cheers of the crowd, but Madeline glanced at me and winked.
“I wasss given a chanccce to bake in the palaccce.” He glanced over at the blond gal, who pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks and shot him a smile, her eyes wet. I placed her now as the former head baker who’d made headlines when she hired Sam about a year ago. Half the former palace staff had walked out on their jobs because they refused to work alongside a shifter.
“And now I want to make sssure other ssshiftersss are given opportunitiesss. We need to change the lawsss ssso that they’re not denied jobsss or placesss to live or anything elssse. And we’re ssstarting with the baking competition ssso that other ssshifters who love to bake can find their own placcce and friendsss in the palaccce bakery.”
The crowd erupted, most of the tumult of voices sounding supportive, though I shot a stink eye at the boos coming from the back.
9
Boo! Hiss!
“Hey!”
I jumped at the hand on my shoulder, then turned and grinned as Peter slid up beside me. Daisy squeezed in between us and growled as someone nearly stepped on her paw. All I can see down here is thighs. Nothing but a sea of thighs. She huffed.
I bent forward and let out a woof, which no one could hear over all the voices and applause. You want me to hold you up, Days? You can sit on my shoulders. I winked.
Her ears flattened, and she bared her pointy white teeth, her dark lips twitching. Just try to pick me up and see what happens.
I shrugged and let out another woof before straightening. You’re probably right. Looks like you’ve been hitting the treats and have put on a few pounds. I’m not sure I could lift you. I kept my eyes up over the heads of the crowd and fought a grin as she snarled and growled at me.
How dare you! I’m in great shape. Want to race? I’ll run circles around you!
Peter, grinning, shook his head. “What am I going to do with you two?”
I rose on my toes and kissed his cheek. “We could always rehome her?”
He paled, and I nudged him. “Kidding. Geez.” I smirked. “Don’t tell her I said so, but I kinda love the furry mutt. I don’t know who els
e would keep me in line.”
Daisy, dark eyes narrowed up at us, whined. Well, looks like you’re telling the truth for once.
Peter beamed down at me and kissed the top of my head. I snuggled against his side for a moment, then rose on my toes. Sam was talking again and the crowd cheering, so I had to speak nearly right against Peter’s ear. “What’s the word around the precinct?”
I turned my head so he could speak into my ear. “Edna was calling to tell me the coroner’s report came in.”
I raised my brows. “And?”
“Poisoning—like we thought. It was fast-acting, which means she consumed it in the tent. Traces were found in her mouth and on her lips, but not in her stomach.”
I frowned. “You were right. It was absorbed through the skin then?”
He nodded.
“So we’re thinking it was probably a rival baker who did it? With the tea?”
Peter shrugged and leaned close again. “Coroner said tea was the only thing in her stomach. Her daughters told the truth—she hadn’t had anything else to eat or drink this morning before she died.”
I bit my lip, thinking it over. “So it had to be the tea.” I tipped my head to the side. “But if that’s the case, why wasn’t anyone else poisoned? The palace servant poured from the same pot to everyone, and if the killer poisoned the mug, how could they have known which mug would go to Polly?” I frowned. “Unless it was the servant who did it. But Daisy cleared him, and besides, what motive could he have?”
Peter nodded. “I agree it’s much more likely to have been one of the rival bakers. Russo did some digging. Apparently, Mimi Moulin actually took Polly to court years ago over the sourdough bread starter she claimed Polly had stolen. The court was going to test samples of Mimi’s and of Polly’s. Since Mimi had been in business for decades before Polly came along, if the starters were determined to be identical, Polly would likely have lost. But according to court records, Polly pushed Mimi’s buttons in court and triggered Mimi to shift into a squirrel. The judge threw out the case.”
“Wow. Just because Mimi had revealed herself to be a shifter?” I huffed. “Typical.”
Peter nodded. “I don’t agree with the judge’s call, but it certainly gives Mimi a strong motive. Plus, it was bread day in the competition. Maybe she couldn’t stand to see Polly competing with her recipe.”
I considered it. “She might have snapped because of the competition, sure, but it seems odd after so many years that she’d—” I stopped midsentence as my gaze landed on a familiar face.
Neo, a kid I’d grown up with in the orphanage, stood among the crowd. I rolled my eyes at how much hair potion he must have to use every night to get it as slicked back as it was. He shifted from foot to foot, glancing around, sharp jaw set. I narrowed my eyes—he seemed agitated. And what was he doing at a shifters’ rights rally?
Though he was a shifter, he basically worked for the king of keeping shifters oppressed. Whatever camaraderie we’d once had, had evaporated as far as I was concerned when Neo decided to work for Ludolf.
The two goons he managed stood behind him—Sacha, a huge bald brute who was always surprisingly gentlemanly to me, and Viktor, a wiry, tattooed dude who reminded me of a live wire, always moving and twitching and giggling. I curled my lip. Again—what was this gang doing at a rally for shifters’ rights? Had Ludolf sent them to report back to him, or had they actually come in support of Sam?
Doubtful.
And then I spotted another man beside them. One who made my stomach fill with icy-cold dread. It felt as though time slowed down. I didn’t know his name, but he’d been in Ludolf’s lair. He was a lion shifter, one of the mob boss’s personal guards. Ludolf had sicced him on me once, in lion form, and I’d felt like prey.
My breath stopped as the lion shifter drew his wand. I followed the direction he was pointing it—at Sam Snakeman. No. The rush of noise from the crowd dampened, my own heartbeat hammering in my ears. I had to do something.
Ludolf benefitted from shifters being oppressed. He only had power because we’d been driven underground, forced to go to him for jobs and loans and housing and any semblance of protection or justice, flawed as it was. Of course he wouldn’t want Sam and his message to succeed.
I knew Sam would never hear my voice out of the many in the crowd if I shouted a warning. I had no magic to amplify my voice. And so, in a split-second decision, I cupped my hands to the sides of my mouth and shouted at Sam as loudly as I could—in snake. “Ssss hiss!” Sam! Get down!
10
Chaos at the Castle
The sound of Sam Snakeman’s native tongue must have cut through the din of voices, because he turned my way, his pale eyes wide behind his glasses. It seemed to take forever for my words to sink in, but suddenly he dropped down, disappearing behind the podium.
A moment later, a flash of acidic yellow light whizzed over the heads of the crowd and crashed into the podium. The wood exploded into thousands of splinters. People screamed, the police shouted orders, and hundreds of spectators threw themselves to the ground as another flash of light exploded against the stage.
As everyone around me dropped flat on their bellies, I stood, shocked. It’d worked. Sam had heard me and ducked… but where was he? Palace guards with their golden lances ushered the royal group back inside the gates, to safety. Amelia, the woman in white from the competition, and a dark-haired guy with a goatee fought against them, shouting for Sam even as the guards pushed them inside the gates.
Across the field of prone bodies, the lion shifter, alongside Neo and the boys, turned to face me. The lion’s lips peeled back in a sneer, and though I wanted to disappear, I squared my shoulders, plastered on a huge grin, and waved.
The tall dude’s expression darkened, and he pointed his wand at me just as a warm hand clapped around my shoulder and dragged me to the ground. Peter hugged me close to his chest and rolled us to our sides, shielding me with his body.
I lifted my head and peeked over his broad shoulder. Shouts sounded as the police closed in around Ludolf’s goons, and a chase ensued when they took off, the lion shifter turning tail. I laid my head back down on his arm and grinned at Peter. “You saved me from Ludolf’s sea slugs—oof, but I think you might be crushing my ribs.”
He released his embrace slightly, his worried eyes softening a little. “Sorry.” He looked me over. “You okay?”
I nodded.
Daisy, head resting on her paws, wagged her bushy tail, dusting the face of the wincing man behind her. She growled, though she stayed low. Ooh. Let me at them. I’ll bite their knees right off.
I raised my brows. Quite the threat, though I appreciated having her at my back.
Madeline rolled onto her side, head propped up on her hand as though lounging at the beach. “Did you see who fired the spell?”
I nodded and pushed to my hands and knees. “Ludolf’s lackeys.” Most of the crowd made their way back to standing, now that the cretins who’d fired at Sam had taken off. Peter helped me up, and I spoke in a low voice to him and Madeline.
“I should’ve guessed. While Ludolf wants to find a cure for his own ‘shifterism’—his word”—I rolled my eyes—“he certainly doesn’t want discrimination against shifters to end. He benefits from being the only one shifters can turn to. He’s the police, the banks, and the government.”
I gestured toward the smoking debris that had until recently been the stage. “Of course Ludolf wants to stop Sam Snakeman and all the change he’s fighting for on the island. If Sam succeeded and shifters got more equal rights, Ludolf would be unnecessary and lose his power.”
Madeline raised her brows. “Pretty diabolical.” She nodded. “Sounds like Mr. Caterwaul.” She wiggled her brows. “Did I mention I’m close to publishing my exposé on him and the shifter underground?” She grinned. “It’s going to blow people’s minds.”
I didn’t doubt that. I looked past Madeline to the royal grounds behind the gate. Palace guards jogged b
eside a group that included the prince, his red-haired princess, and Maple, the former head baker who’d hired Sam.
I rose on my toes and squinted. It was tough to tell in the dark and with the distance, but I didn’t spot Sam Snakeman among them. I sank back down, and my stomach tightened. I hoped he’d ducked in time and was okay.
Madeline L’Orange stood beside me and followed my gaze. She threw an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry, Jo. There’s no way we’re getting into the palace. Security’s going to be at an all-time high.”
I huffed and nibbled at the inside of my cheek. This was the second time I’d missed out on an opportunity to go to the royals about Ludolf. And now Ludolf had tried to hurt Sam. I spun to face Madeline.
“I just foiled an assassination attempt by Ludolf.” I raised my brows. “I think that earns me brownie points. Plus, don’t you think the prince and princess will want to know who attacked their friend?”
Peter drew his wand and stood close to my side as the crowd broke into chaos. Protestors tried to flee and crashed into anti-protestors. Shouts sounded all around us, and Peter leaned close. “This is getting out of control. I’ll try to help you get into the palace grounds, but then Daisy and I need to help restore order.”
I frowned, my stomach tight with worry for him. “Okay, but I’ll never forgive you if anything happens to you.”
His lips twitched toward a grin. “Understandable.” He slid his hand around my cheek and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. When he leaned away, the world spun a little.
Daisy huffed. When I glanced down at her, she shot me a flat look and growled. You two and the PDA.
I returned the look and leaned down, growling back. This from a gal who I saw, with my own two eyes, poop on a crowded sidewalk last week.
Daisy’s hackles rose, and she barked. Because you and Peter slept in so late! I couldn’t wait any longer and—