Free Something to Curse About by Gayla Drummond Page B

turned the key, and a few seconds later, we were on the move again. Curious, I edged down the bench seat and stuck my nose out the passenger window. A minute later, my whole head was hanging out and my eyes were half-closed as information flooded my nose. I couldn’t make heads or tails of most of it, aside from exhaust fumes, fast food smells, and the overall odor of a lot of people mixing with sunshine, man-made materials, dirt, and growing things.
    It was pretty damn cool.
    I pulled my head back inside to look at Logan, wondering if he got the same information all the time, or just when he shifted to tiger. He held out the leftover hash brown from our fast food breakfast. “Here, girl.”
    I ate it, hesitated then licked the crumbs off the vinyl seat. Dogs can’t blush, and I was still hungry. I eyed his coffee with longing. Logan noticed and lifted a large cup of ice water from the second cup holder. “Thirsty?”
    Promising myself a whole pot of coffee two seconds after I became human again, I lapped up some water.
    “You made friends with Terra pretty fast. Maybe if we can’t find who you belong to, you can live with us,” he said, replacing the cup. “Though a human family would probably be better.”
    You could give me to my dad . Permanently being a dog would be one way to spend a lot more time with my little brothers without causing Betty freak fits. Woohoo, a glimmer of light in the worst-case scenario .
    I tucked the idea away, along with sudden worries about a much shorter lifespan and Betty’s conscientiousness as a pet owner. Amadeus, the Cocker Spaniel she’d selected for the boys, was neutered. I loved my little brothers, but being spayed wasn’t on my bucket list.
    Logan braked, throwing his arm out to keep me from falling into the floorboard. He frowned at the car in front of us. “Idiot. You okay, girl?”
    Pressed against the back of the seat, I nodded. The shifter’s lips quirked as he dropped his arm. From the talk the night before, I knew he hadn’t had much to do with normal animals people kept as pets before or after the Melding. He’d been around my friends’ familiars a few times, and Leglin a little more, but they weren’t normal pets by any stretch of the imagination.
    Aside from that, he was a feline shifter, which had to add another layer of difficulty in communicating with him. Unless I figured out a way to talk or did something extremely abnormal, he would keep on thinking that I was simply a lost dog.
    I brightened. Nick was a wolf shifter, and he communicated with Leglin. Maybe he’d understand me. Holding that hope close, I looked through the windshield, eager to reach the office.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    When we arrived, Kate wasn’t sitting at the receptionist’s desk. I followed Logan to my empty office, which he glanced inside of before turning to walk down to Kate’s office. She wasn’t there either. Our next stop was Mr. Whitehaven’s office. He was there, but on the phone and speaking in a foreign language. It sounded harsh like German, but wasn’t.
    He smiled, gesturing for us to come in and have a seat, his reddish brown eyes focusing on me. For a second, I thought he recognized me and my rear wagged back and forth with my tail. But no, he continued his conversation without pausing.
    Recognition would’ve made him drop the phone, or look surprised, or something. Maybe the boss just liked dogs.
    I sat on the floor once Logan sank down onto the couch. He unsnapped the leash, trusting Doggy Me to behave. His trust wasn’t misplaced; no way I’d attempt jumping onto the couch after failing to manage to jump up on the bed. I’d had to climb instead, which proved pretty awkward with four legs and no hands.
    A whole new respect for dogs had taken root in my heart.
    Mr. Whitehaven finished his call, and gave Logan a cordial greeting, which the shifter returned before explaining why we were there. He ended with, “I hoped Discord might be able to shed some light on