"Jack! Do you have time to come see the raccoon babies with me after lunch?" Shelley was bouncing again.
"I sure do. And—" Jack broke off mid-sentence, his head snapping up and his eyes narrowing as he looked out the back door. "No."
"No, you can't?" Shelley's disappointment sounded in her voice. "But—"
"I meant no, I can't believe that, ah, jerk followed me here," Jack said grimly, careful with his language around us as always, but clearly there had been another word on his mind.
"Jerk?" Uncle Mike stood up. "What jerk?"
"That eagle," Jack said, crossing to the back door.
"The eagle?" Aunt Ruby looked confused.
"An eagle shifter who knew Jack in the old days. I, um, sort of invited him to lunch even though he, ah…" I glanced at Shelley. "Had an altercation with Jack in the past."
"That's one way to put it," Jack muttered.
"Aneagle shifter?" Aunt Ruby's face turned seven shades of pale beneath her rose-pink blush. "Tess! How could you?"
"What did I do? He was there, and I didn't—"
"You invited an eagle shifter to lunch when we're havingchicken?Isn't that…isn't that…" she looked wildly around at all of us. "Cannibalism?"
"I didn't think it was possible to shriek and hiss at the same time," I observed mildly, kind of impressed.
Aunt Ruby pushed me away from the chicken, grabbed a towel, threw it over the bird, and swung the whole thing up and over the sink.
And out the kitchen window.
5
Tess
Everyone in the kitchen very loudly said nothing.
Not a single word.
Total silence.
And then . . .
"Ouch," in a dry Scottish voice. "Jack, if this is payback for the stabbing, it's … unusual."
"He stabbed Jack? He stabbed JACK," Shelley shouted. "Make him go away!"
Uncle Mike, who was nearest the back door, shushed Shelley and then stepped out onto the porch. "Sorry about the chicken. It fell."
I'd never heard that flat, dry, and very unapologetic tone of voice from my uncle before.
Another silence.
Then Logan Mackenzie, sounding somewhat hesitant—or at least really confused—cleared his throat. "I don't know a lot about American customs, but … was I meant just to catch the chicken or catch it and throw it back? Is this a traditional greeting in the South? Um, even with the towel, it's really hot."
I groaned. Aunt Ruby's face turned bright red, and Shelley let loose with a peal of nervous giggles before clapping her hands over her mouth.
Jack sighed and walked to the door. "I told you not to come here. And hand over the chicken or somebody gets hurt. Probably you."
"Surprised he's not already hurt," Uncle Mike muttered. "Twenty-plus pounds of hot chicken flying out the window at him."
