Free Shark's Teeth (Marla Mason) by T.A. Pratt Page B

people who could appear to turn into animals, and at least two people who could actually turn into animals, but never a... ‘‘Were-shark?’’ she said.
    ‘‘Shark god,’’ he said, with some dignity.
    Marla squinted at him, concentrating hard. She had the ability to see well beyond the normal limits of human sight, but using that vision gave her headaches. Still, now that she really looked, she could see: the shape of the world bent around this man, like he was a bowling ball resting on top of a bed, the surface sagging and deforming under his weight. Metaphysically speaking. ‘‘I was a goddess myself, once, for a while. I guess I still am, a little. But only by marriage.’’
    He just nodded.
    Tough room , Marla thought, but it was just as well. The goddess thing was a long story, and one she didn’t feel like telling.
    Ka’ohu said, ‘‘I am not one of the great gods. There are many shark gods, and many aumakua – ancestral spirits – who manifest as sharks. We are a multitude. But I have some power, including the power to transform myself into a man, and then into a shark again... power which has been stolen from me, trapping me in this form.’’
    ‘‘Something to do with those missing teeth, I’d guess?’’
    ‘‘The teeth will grow back, but I fear the magic is stolen forever. Some days ago a man – an a-hole, as you would say – appeared in a small boat. He threw a net over me, and dragged me into the air. I transformed into a man, expecting to terrify him, but he stunned me, somehow, and I lost consciousness, and when I woke, he was ripping out my teeth with a pair of pliers. I tried to transform, and could not, but I managed to leap over the edge of the boat and swim to safety. Since then, however, I have been unable to change.’’
    Marla sighed. ‘‘Sounds like you could use an occult detective.’’
    ‘‘What?’’
    ‘‘Never mind. Just me succumbing to the inevitable. Can you describe the guy?’’
    He shook his head. ‘‘You all look alike to me.’’
    ‘‘Look closer, then,’’ Marla prodded. ‘‘Really look at the memory. Me, if a guy ripped my teeth out, I bet I could draw a picture of him freehand.’’ Someone had ripped her jaw off, once, and she did indeed remember his acne-scarred face very well.
    Ka’ohu frowned. ‘‘His hair was long and greasy, dark. He was thin, and didn’t seem strong enough to haul a shark my size into a boat, but he did it. He wore smoked glasses with round lenses.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘That’s all.’’
    ‘‘Okay,’’ Marla said. ‘‘Tell you what. I’ll find the guy who stole your teeth, and see what he’s doing with them, and, if possible, get them back for you. Deal?’’
    ‘‘Why would you do this for me?’’
    Boredom , she thought. But she said, ‘‘Because I like it when gods owe me a favor.’’
    ‘‘If you can do this, then I will owe you a debt.’’ His voice was solemn.
    ‘‘Then it’s a deal.’’ She stood up, then paused. ‘‘Wait. Are you one of those shark gods who, I don’t know, pretends to be a guy, and lures a pretty girl into the ocean, and then turns into a shark and eats her?’’
    ‘‘No. At least, not since I was a very young god. And we all make mistakes when we are young.’’
    ‘‘Some of us just keep on making them. But you’ve gotta go on living. I’ll be in touch, Ka’ohu.’’
    #
    Rondeau followed her out of the elevator, saying, ‘‘I’ll drive.’’ He trailed her through the lobby, past the tropical plants, and Asian-influenced sculptures, and the koi pond, and – no shit – the little penguin habitat.
    ‘‘You don’t even have to go. I know you’ve got a lot of drinks with coconut juice or whatever in them ahead of you.’’ They stepped out into warm late-afternoon air. Marla was well-fortified by a late lunch of Kona coffee and macadamia nut pancakes and slices of fresh pineapple, though she’d never admit how much she’d grown to