“Love you, girlies,” Luxe mutters, pointedly staring at me while packing up her lunch too. She was only supposed to have a thirty-minute break since she was the only employee here today, so she has to go too.
“Love you too, darling,” Flora says, blowing a kiss towards Luxe.
4
WILLOW
Movingin a shifter town only takes me a few days to do, and I’m grateful for it. Stalking house listings for the last few months helped me speed up the process. I didn’t think I’d be moving this fast, but after the break-in a week ago and Layla coming to stay, I am more than motivated.
With an empty savings account and a mortgage, I am now the homeowner of a cute two-bedroom house on Lakewood Street. I have my car packed downstairs and a moving truck on the way for the bigger furniture. I find myself in my little kitchen, the last room to pack up. The more I stand here, the more I know it’s time for me to move on. Besides the break-in, I’m ready to set deeper roots and live the life I am supposed to live. Happy and alone.
Shifters were never meant to live in apartments, since most have a no shifting policy. Our animals are usually too big to fit in an apartment. There are other features of shifters, such as claws, that always end up damaging walls or floors that keep renters from accepting our applications. I still somehow found myself with a hefty deposit to pay and keys to my apartment five years ago.
I was broke and moving fast. I needed something with little responsibility. This small apartment gave me the fresh start I needed. The fact that I’m moving on settles in my heart. I mean, I guess I could’ve stayed here; maybe the intruder was a couple of bored teens or something, and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion.
Still, the house I have now is worlds better than this, and I deserve that.
“Willow Buttercup?” a harsh, gravelly voice asks. I pause in my small apartment kitchen, where I’m packing away plates and cups.
I walk to the door, wishing I had a peephole or someway to see who is at my door. I’m not expecting any company, much less a man’s company. I step away as quietly as possible. Maybe I can act as if I’m not home.
“We need to talk.” This voice raises the hair on my skin. I have no idea who is out there.
The voice doesn’t ring any bells in my mind, and the pounding on the door that follows makes my bear want to take over. She senses that whoever is standing on the other side of the door is a threat.
I let my claws shift through my fingernails; they’ll have to be enough of a weapon. Where’s Nola?
“Willow, open the door,” he says again. He doesn’t knock any louder or yell. He must not want my neighbors to hear the noise. Oh my goodness, is he going to hurt me?
I hurry away from the door. I can’t let my bear out—I can’t deal with the aftermath of dead bodies, and a hole in the roof since my bear’s head would probably go through it. Is the damage to the ceiling worth my life, though?
No, my bear is going to stay inside. I’ll have to run this time. I grab Nola, her orange fur sticking up, and her own claws digging into my arm as I try not to scratch her with mine. Quietlystepping into the kitchen, I listen for the door, wondering how much time I have left and what is the best way to get out of here.
I hear heavy boots walking a few steps away. I think they’re gone. The stranger’s scent is getting less poignant as the footsteps get quieter. I think we’re in the clear. With Nola still in my hands, I step up to the door with one hand. I don’t sense anyone on the other side.
Every horror movie I’ve ever watched tells me I shouldn’t open the door to check. The tension in my neck tells me not to—shoot, even Nola is actively trying to get out of my arms and away from the door. But I need to see with my own eyes that we are in the clear.
Maybe I am panicking for no reason. Maybe that was my landlord or something?
A sudden, yet particularly careful, pop has the door open, and a powerful force has the door whipping towards me faster than I can process. I want to shift, but with my concern for Nola and the wind being knocked out of me, all I can process is the harsh impact of me hitting the floor. Suddenly I can smell the intruder strongly, and I can barely see his physical form. He popped open my door far too easily—he must have done this before. Why does he know my name, and what could he possibly want from me?
Nola gets loose from my grasp. I snap back up, leaving barely any time for the intruder to get me while I’m on the ground. Yet I’m not nearly as fast as he is. Is he an assassin of some sort? Who would want to kill me?
Identifying the intruder is a whole other task as my human body recovers from my unexpected fall. He comes in as a blurred body, and I hear Nola’s strained meow as I dash backwards to put space between me and the intruder. My bear might not give me a choice to handle this myself, and I’ll need space to shift.
Dead bodies might be on the agenda today, I guess.
Except I’m not fast enough, and the man has a hand around my neck and is lifting me in the air.
“We could’ve done this peacefully, Willow, but you’ve forced my hand.”
I gurgle, gasping for air as my claws dig into any skin that I can reach. I’m realizing you need to breathe to shift, and maybe this intruder knew that. My eyes instead flood with tears, and I can hardly see the man in front of me. Is this it?
No. Absolutely not. Layla is coming tomorrow, and I will not die on her before seeing her again. I can’t leave her again.
I kick my legs out, and even with my height he dodges by swinging my body back and making his grip on my neck harder.
“I don’t know what you did, but he’s pissed.” He cuts himself off and stares at my choking form. I think I see his brows furrow, and I think I see him shake his head, but the tears building in my eyes prevent me from seeing clearly. “So, whatever you do—don’t do anything stupid, and for the love of the Moon Goddess, lie low,” he says, dropping me onto the floor.
