"We might not have a shop for them to run from for much longer," I blurted out, and we both looked at each other, stricken anew as the reality of the situation slammed into us.
When Susan stopped by to see if we'd heard anything, I was lying on the floor with my legs propped up against the wall, a cold strip on my forehead, and a paper bag to breathe into in my hand.
The sheriff looked at me, looked at Eleanor, and then back at me. "So. Just another Monday in Dead End."
I started breathing into the bag.
19
Jack
Jed looked bad.
If I didn't know better, I'd think he'd aged at least twenty years since he'd gone to bed the night before.
He and Logan were sitting at the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in front of them. They looked up when I walked in, though they would have heard me drive up well before then. Shifter hearing, even for non-tigers, was far better than human, no matter how well the animal shape in question could hear. It was on the magic side of the shapeshift equation. Nobody knew why; it just was.
And now my brain was spouting random facts about shifter hearing to avoid looking at the real problem: my grandfather was fading right in front of my eyes when I'd just found him.
"I think you need to see a doctor," I said, walking to the coffeemaker. I held up the pot, but they both shook their heads.
"No to more coffee, no to a doctor," Jed said. His voice was still strong and not even a little shaky, so I decided to wait and see.
"I see you found the clothes I put in your room." My uncle Jeremiah's jeans and flannel shirt suited him.
He glanced down at himself with a mixture of amusement and resignation. "Yes, I figured I may as well fit in with your time, now that I live here, too. There's no going back, after all."
"The boots are okay, too?"
My grandfather lifted one foot, as if testing the fit. "Sure. A little big—what do they feed you boys in this century? But they're fine. What have you learned?"
"Unfortunately, nothing. Did Logan fill you in on the box?"
Jed glanced at the eagle shifter, his gaze flattening. "Yes. But I'm not entirely sure whether to trust this creature."
"Creature?" Logan's perfunctory smile didn't reach his eyes. "Sticks and stones, old man. Jack, I heard a few more things about my sister, and it seems likely that she's here in the Autumn Court with this Viviette who is causing so much trouble."
I had to resist the urge to pick Logan up off his chair and throw him out the window.
The closed window.
"I'm not even shocked," I said, instead. "Why might that be? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because there are no genuine coincidences when it comes to bad news? Or that you bring chaos and destruction wherever you go?"
Logan slammed his mug on the table and stood, hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Oh, poor Jack. Everybody brings their problems to you. What a burden to be such a freaking hero."
I could feel my tiger clawing to get out. Both sides of me agreed that Logan Mackenzie was no good. "I'm no hero. And I didn't ask for you to dump your problems on me. Feel free to leave. Now would be good."
He stood there for a long minute, clenching his teeth over whatever he really wanted to say to me, before he took a deep breath and put a mask of blandness back on his face like another man might put a baseball cap on his head.
"No, I'm good. Just blowing off a little steam after every tip I had led to nothing. If you had a sister, you'd understand."
That deflated my anger. Maybe he wasn't lying or working an angle for once. After all, I didn't have a sister, but I had Tess and Shelley, and I'd be losing my mind if either of them disappeared.
"Okay. Okay." I shoved my hair back out of my face. Man, did I need a haircut. "Let's figure out the next steps."
Logan hesitated, but then shook his head. "Thanks, but maybe later. I have a few more things to check out. I'll be around later."
I nodded at the counter by the back door. "Take the bike. It's yours to use as long as you're here."
