Page 87 of Magic Claimed

Instead, it was a tiny white fox that darted out, dodged between the legs of several startled protesters, and ran straight into traffic on Walker Avenue.

Thankfully, the cars weren’t moving very fast, and my appearance was startling enough that everyone slammed on their brakes. The car closest to me skidded across the pavementwith screeching tires, while several others collided in minor fender benders. None of them touched me.

But as soon as the traffic was fully stopped, I let out a yelp like I was dying and collapsed in the middle of the street.

“Oh my gosh, Andrew, youkilledit!” An older woman’s voice was the first to approach, but I kept my eyes closed and let out another yelp—louder this time.

“Is that doggiedead?” That sounded like a child, and I winced internally. Hopefully, no children would be scarred for life by my deception.

More voices gathered, then I heard sirens, so I started to whine as pitifully as possible.

“Okay, little guy, let’s at least get you out of traffic.” It was a woman’s voice, kind and soothing. A moment later, I was picked up and moved out of the street, then set down again with grass beneath me. She must have carried me back into Bicentennial Park, so I risked cracking an eye.

It looked like fifty faces surrounding me, some of them carrying signs. In the background, I could hear honking, along with the shouts of angry drivers.

“I don’t see a collar,” someone commented.

“You should be careful,” a woman’s voice cautioned, and my overwhelmed shifter senses insisted that the voice was familiar. Where would I have heard it before? “That doesn’t really look like a dog.”

Drat. I’d been hoping no one would notice. But Oklahoma wasn’t exactly overrun with arctic foxes, which was the closest Earth equivalent to whatever the heck I shifted into.

“Hello?” That was the female who’d carried me out of the street. She’d called someone… “Is this Animal Control? Yeah, I think I’ve found someone’s exotic pet. It’s hurt. Probably needs a vet. Yep, Bicentennial Park. It was hit by a car. Don’t see any blood, but it’s whimpering and not moving much.”

I let out another dramatic whine and heard a couple of sniffles from the crowd around me.

Essentially, I’d taken advantage of possibly the oldest and deepest rule of human decency. There was no way to know what kind of people these protesters were, or what they might have been willing to do to me and Callum. No way of knowing whether they were motivated by fear, anger, or just plain old money. But no matter how mercenary you might be?

You never,everhurt a dog.

I needed to make sure Callum had time to get out of sight, so I lay there for another few minutes, as sirens came closer and the car owners argued about who was actually at fault.

But eventually I heard the tread of boots, and a deep male voice asking, “Where’s the exotic animal?”

The crowd backed away.

And that was my cue for a miracle cure.

I was on my feet and running before the poor animal control officer could even get a good look at me. He let out a yell and gave chase, along with what felt like half the onlookers. Somewhere across the park, I distinctly heard a woman shout, “Shifter! It’s a shifter!” but the crowd was disorganized and most of them were already yelling so no one else took up the cry.

I let them chase me around the park for aboutfive minutes, until the humans were gasping for breath and I was sure that Callum was nowhere to be seen.

Then I circled around to where I’d caught his scent trail, laughed over my shoulder at my pursuers, and disappeared.

TWENTY-ONE

Thankfully,Callum hadn’t gone far. I tracked him into the parking garage nearest the park, and almost yelped when he opened the door to the stairwell right as I trotted by.

“In here,” he called softly, and I darted through the doorway with a happy little yip.

The light was dim, but I could see him looking at me with a combination of exasperation and relief as he held out the tightly wrapped bundle of my clothes. “You almost gave me a heart attack. For a minute there, I was terrified that you’d actually been hit by that car.”

Well, crud. Because he couldn’t feel my emotions or my intentions through the bond, he had no way of knowing I was okay.

I whined and flattened my ears in apology.

“Hurry and get dressed. I’ll guard the door.”

He turned his back, and I shifted faster than I’d ever shifted before, shivering as I scrambled into my clothes.