Free Feral Magic by Robin D. Owens Page B

stomach.

Chapter Ten
     
     
    She glanced at the large window with the shutters closed against the sun.  Favel sat up and stared at her with curious eyes from under the playpen.  She ran to it, flipped it over and put Favel back in.  Then she took a deep breath and opened the door, uncomfortable in her pajamas, but she didn't think she could take the time to put on something less revealing.
    The shorter black woman stood in front of a large white guy.  He remained a pace away – so as not to frighten Brandy?  Both had their badges pinned to their light blue short-sleeved summer shirts.
    "Officers?" Brandy asked.
    "We are checking out rumors of a large cat roaming the neighborhood."
    Brandy frowned.  "Both of my cats are big.  One is...plump, the other is big boned but long-haired so he seems bigger than he is.  I know they don't stay in the yard, but they both have collars and tags."
    "And you are?"
    "Brandy Svensson," she said promptly, knowing they'd probably already checked on the owner of the house.
    "We are talking about a black panther."
    This was not the time to inform them there was no such thing, a leopard or a jaguar, but no panther.
    "A black panther!"  Brandy made her eyes wide.  "You mean like a big wildcat from the zoo or circus or something?"
    "Yes."
    Brandy stared at them in disbelief.  "A black panther would tear up my house, probably me, too."
    "You are known to feed the ferals."  The female cop appeared disapproving.
    Brandy laughed.  "So you think I'm a crazy cat lady?"  She opened the door wider.  "I have two cats and you're welcome to come in and check the house.  Mine are shy, though, and you probably won't see them if they're inside."  She didn't know whether they had come in through the cat door or not.
    "Brandy?" Dak said, coming up behind her.  Dammit!  She'd jolted and the cops wouldn't miss that.
    The officers faded back a little.  The big guy – not as big and definitely not in as good shape as Dak – looked warier.
    "This is my boyfriend.”  She hesitated over Dak , and transformed his name to something more likely, “Dakota," she said.
    The female cop looked at him askance.  He was probably scowling, not liking the addition of "ota" to his name.  But she'd given it a little thought and believed it was a good compromise for him.  Not that he seemed much of a man for compromise.
    "Miss Svensson..." the cop began.
    With a chortle, Favel crawled around Brandy, took the short dive from tall step to porch floor, laughed some more, and latched on to the woman officer's blue trousers.
    Dak slid around Brandy and scooped him up, and the baby's incipient golden glow vanished.
    Favel tangled his hands in Dak's hair, blew wet bubbles at his uncle..."Da..da...dak."
    Both cops' stances eased a little, especially when Favel cuddled against Dak.  To Brandy it was obvious the baby was happy and not abused, and she hoped the police saw that, too.  There wasn't a mark on the baby, though this wasn't the time to point out that shapeshifters healed really well and fast.
    She gestured Dak inside and he went, and she stepped back, too, saying, "No wildcats in my house, but you're welcome to come in."  Then she frowned.  "You're sure of this tip?"
    "Thank you, Miss Svensson," the woman said, and turned and left with her partner, who hadn't said a word.
    Brandy closed the door, leaned against it and sighed.  "I guess you must have been seen." Her voice held an accusatory note that she didn't like.  She wiped her forehead with her oversize shirt.  "Sorry for the tone, but this is not so good.  They'll report following up on a rumor and talking to me.  It will be on record.  Not that I think anything will happen, but they may keep an eye on the house and if any other strange things happen...."
    Dak inclined his head.  "They are good guards if they investigate all rumors, make note of all details, remember incidents."
    "Seemed that way."  She flattened her mouth.  "But we'll have