“What?” Chavvah squinted her eyes at me. “Honey, you can’t change how you were born.”
“No, but apparently, a soul conjuror can,” I said flatly.
“We should go inside,” Doc suggested. “It sounds like something we need to sit down for.”
Jo Jo came to the door. “I’ll get the coffee started.”
* * *
Jo Jo – I’ve been called a lot of things, but an anchor? That’s heavy.
Doc’sgray eyes shined with fury as Etta relayed the story of the woman in the shop. I knew exactly how he felt because I’d been outraged as well. Hell, I still was.
“And then, just like the way she’d slashed the air with Cordell, and after threatening to turn me in to the cops, she did it to me.” Etta’s arms were animated as if she were reenacting the whole scene. “The next thing I knew,” she continued. “I woke up in a landfill, and I’d lost my ability to shift into a wolf. On top of that, my strength, my sense of smell, my hearing, and my night vision have diminished. If this is what it feels like to be human, I say no thank you.”
“What were her exact words?” Chav asked.
“I don’t remember word for word, but it was something along the lines of me having power in me beyond my wolf and that I was more than my father’s daughter.” Etta snapped her fingers. “Oh, and that I’d have to die to live, and I needed to find the wise woman of the lake before the equinox.”
“Hmmm,” Billy Bob mused. “Interesting.”
“You’re a man of few words, Doc,” I told him as I passed around some empty coffee cups. “But always wise.”
Etta snickered when Doc gave me a shut-the-hell-up look. I went back to the kitchenette and grabbed the fresh pot of coffee I’d made.
“Anything else?” Chavvah made a slashing gesture. “You know, before she performed shifter surgery?”
“It was a lot of nonsense. My destiny is a fork. I’m not alone. The song dog is my anchor. Blah, blah, blah.”
Chavvah smiled as she and Doc turned to stare at me.
“What?” I brushed at my cheek with the back of my hand as I filled the four mugs. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Coyotes,” Doc said, “have many nicknames.” He arched a brow at Jo Jo. “Including song dog because of their incessant yipping.”
“I wouldn’t call it incessant.” I shrugged, trying to play it cool. Inside, I was a little freaked out. Had the conjuror been talking about me?
“Did you know a coyote was called a song dog?” Etta asked me.
“Yeah, sure.” I put the hot pot back on the hot plate. “It’s pretty common in the Midwest.”
Etta shook her head. “I feel like I was raised in a third-world country sometimes.”
I gave her a sly look. “I guess if I’m your anchor, you’re kind of stuck with me.”
“Uh-huh.” Etta took a sip of the coffee, and I could see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Wow,” she said. “I hadn’t realized how caffeine-deprived I’ve been.”
“Good, huh?” I asked.
“Yep, good.” She blushed. “The coffee, I mean. Good.”
She took another sip but wouldn’t meet my gaze. Had I missed something?
“I don’t suppose you all brought lunch?” I asked Chav. “I’m starved, and it’s hard to think on an empty stomach.”
“There’s a restaurant next to the park office,” Chavvah said. “We can go after Etta finishes her story. What happened next?”
“She wished me luck. Said I was going to need it.” Etta widened her eyes. “Then I woke up at the dump.”
