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  An alarm dinged as the glass door opened to The Cat’s Meow. Inside, there was a row of six booths along the wall, four tables that seated four out in the open floor, and counter seating with about eight cushioned black stools. The interior décor was rustic country with orange tabby kitsch everywhere. A man in blue jeans and a button-down shirt with a string tie sat in the nearest booth. A female police officer sat at a counter chair sipping coffee and eating a cinnamon roll. Two elderly women, one with snowball-white hair, the other a dyed strawberry-blonde, sat in a back booth.

  The white poof-headed lady said, “This egg is not over-medium.”

  “Well, call the mayor,” said Redhead. “You’re unhappy with your eggs. Again.”

  “See this?” She pointed at the offending egg. “Slime, right here. Egg snot. You want to eat it?”

  “If it’ll make you shut up about breakfast food, I’ll eat it and lick the plate.”

  A man with copper-colored hair and a thick beard, tall and well-muscled, stepped out of the kitchen. He wore a white apron around his waist, and he had on a black T-shirt and blue jeans. He held a plate with a single fried egg shining in the middle.

  The old woman with the snowy hair blushed, her thin skin pinking up as he crossed the room to their table. “Here you go, Opal. Sorry ’bout the mix-up on your egg.” He slid the plate in front of her. “This one is pure perfection.” He grinned, his broad smile shining. “Just like you.” He winked.

  Opal giggled.

  The redhead rolled her eyes. “You’re as easy as the eggs.”

  “Oh, Pearl. You’re just mad he didn’t flirt with you.”

  As the women bickered over the definition of flirting, the cook glanced at me. He seemed startled to see me there. “You can sit anywhere,” he said. “Just pick an open spot.”

  “I’m actually looking for someone,” I told him.

  “Who?”

  “Daniel Mason.” Saying his name gave me a hollow ache. My parents had named my brother Daniel, which told me my dad had loved his brother, even if he didn’t speak about him.

  The man’s brows rose. “And why are you looking for him?”

  I immediately knew he was a werecougar like me. The scent was the first clue, and his eyes glowing, just for a second, was another. “You’re Daniel Mason, aren’t you?”

  He moved in closer to me and whispered barely audibly, but with my Shifter senses, I heard him loud and clear. “I go by Buzz these days.”

  “Who’s your new friend, Buzz?” the policewoman asked. Now that she was looking up from her newspaper, I could see she was young.

  He flashed a charming smile her way. “Never you mind, Nadine.” He gestured to a waitress, a middle-aged woman with sandy-colored hair, wearing a black T-shirt and a blue jean skirt. “Top off her coffee, Freda. Get Nadine’s mind on something other than me.”

  “That’ll be a tough ’un, Buzz.” Freda laughed. “I don’t think Deputy Booth comes here for the cooking.”

  “More like the cook,” the elderly lady with the light strawberry-blonde hair said. She and her friend cackled.

  The policewoman’s cheeks turned a shade of crimson that flattered her chestnut-brown hair and pale complexion. “Y’all mind your P's and Q's.”

  Buzz chuckled and shook his head. He turned his attention back to me. “Why is a pretty young thing like you interested in plain ol’ me?”

  I detected a slight apprehension in his voice.

  “If you’re Buzz Mason, I’m Lily Mason, and you’re my uncle.”

  The man narrowed his dark-emerald gaze at me. “I think we’d better talk in private.”

  Chapter 2

  Buzz’s office was a small room at the back of the kitchen. He gestured for me to sit in a wooden chair in front of his desk then crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “What are you doing here, Lily?”

  “So you know who I am?”

  “If Jack sent you after me, you can tell him I’m not coming home. How’d he even find me?”

  “My dad is dead.” I instantly regretted being so blunt. Buzz dropped his arms to his sides, his face ashen with shock. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been so long for me now, I didn’t think.”

  “How long?”

  “Seventeen years ago.”

  “And Constance? How is she holding up?”

  I shook my head. “She’s dead too.”

  He moved behind his desk and sat down, his hands shaking as he scratched his beard. “The last time I heard from Jack, you’d just been born. I told him I never wanted to hear from him again.” His voice was choked with grief. He looked up at me. His liquid gaze held me. “How?”

  “They were murdered. Some stupid druid ritual.”

  “Druids? They don’t usually mix with our kind.”

  “It was actually a witch and some Shifters who were practicing druidic magic. Their power fed on the pain of their victims.”

  Buzz’s face reddened, and I could smell a faint whiff of acrid anger. “Christ Almighty.”

  “You really have integrated,” I observed. In the paranormal world, most followed the teachings of the Goddess. It was rare to find a Christian amongst Shifters or witches, so to hear my uncle invoke the name of the Christian God’s son fascinated me.

  “How did you find me?”

  “My best friend used to work for the FBI.”

  “Another integrator?”

  “Sort of. Hazel is a witch, but she lived and worked with humans before moving back to Paradise Falls.”

  “Land sakes, I never thought I’d hear that name again.” His eyes softened with nostalgia, and for a painful second, he reminded me of my dad.

  “Sooo, do I call you Uncle Buzz?”

  “Uh, no.” He held up his hands. “I might be forty years older than you, but these humans will see us as much closer in age. We’ll say we’re cousins.”

  “I’ve never really hung around with humans.”

  “Then this ought to be a real treat.” He rubbed his hand over his hair. “For as long as it lasts. You can’t stay, Lily.”

  “You’ve managed to hide from these people. If you can do it, so can I.”

  “I’ve had forty years of experience fooling humans, girl. I made a lot of mistakes in the beginning. I’ve only been in Moonrise for a handful of years, and if things go well, I can stay here for another fifteen or twenty before folks start wondering why I’m not looking a lot older.”

  The soft dip at the apex of his upper lip revealed longstanding grief.

  “You look a lot like him,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “My dad.”

  “Fine.” Buzz sighed. “You can stay for a little while, but I have a one-bedroom trailer and no place to keep you.”

  “I’ll find a place to stay.” Surely they had a B&B or a local motel. I didn’t have much money, but it would be enough to get me by for a few weeks.

  “Buzz,” Freda yelled back. “You got customers. Church crowd’s coming in.”

  “Busiest time of the week,” Buzz said. He ushered me out of the chair and toward the door. “Go get some lunch.” With a wink, he added, “On me.”

  * * * *

  I sat on one of the counter stools. The vinyl covering was a bit rough on its pipe-seam edges and snagged on my chocolate-brown leggings. Luckily, it didn’t tear a hole. I placed my coat on the seat next to me.

  “Hey, there. I’m Freda.” The waitress stood across the counter from me and pointed to her name tag. “Can I get you started with some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” The heat in the diner made me realize just how cold I’d been. “That would be great.”

  She slid a laminated menu across to me. “Be right up, sugar.”

  “No sugar,” I said.

  She looked at me funny.

  “I like my coffee just straight black.”

  “Oh.” She smiled. “I got ya.” She winked. “I’ll leave off bringing the cream and sugar around.”

  “Thank
s, Freda. I’m Lily, by the way.”

  She smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

  A few moments later, she came back with a piping-hot cup of black coffee.

  “You know what you want to eat yet?”

  “I’ll take the triple-decker bacon burger with double cheese, double bacon. All the fixings and a side of fries.”

  Freda raised a brow, her lip curling on one side into an amused smirk. “Where you going to put all that food, honey? You’re just a tiny little thang.”

  “I have hollow legs,” I said seriously.

  “Just like your cousin. He’s a helluva good cook, and the way he eats, it’s no wonder.” She laughed. It was a nice sound. “Buzz,” she hollered as she traversed to the kitchen window and hung the check. “Order in.”

  The coffee was good and hot. Freshly brewed. I liked that the diner didn’t let a pot sit around all day after breakfast. Fifteen minutes later, my food arrived. The three beef patties were thick and juicy, four slices of bacon, and lots of gooey cheese made my mouth water. I inhaled the delicious fire-grilled aroma. On the side, there was a large tomato slice, onions, and hamburger pickle chips. The bun was buttered and toasted to perfection. And the fries… Oh my goodness, the fries. They were thick cut, crispy on the outside… I took a bite. Tender on the inside. Salted just right. Sheer nirvana.

  “Are you okay?” Freda asked. “You look like you’re having a religious experience.”

  I giggled as I ate another fry. “I think I am.” Uncle Buzz made an awesome burger. I took another big bite and resisted the urge to hum.

  The booths had filled up with families in a wide variety of ages and dressed in their finest clothes. A woman with hair the color of margarine walked in and dusted her feet on the welcome mat. She wore an expensive wool and cashmere double-breasted coat. The collar was high on her neck, and the hem hit her mid-thigh. The narrow shoulders fit her slim figure and made her appear classically regal. By the way she scanned the room, I was certain it was the appearance she wanted to affect.

  I’d seen her kind before and suffered the slings and arrows of their sharp tongues. I hunched my shoulders and then forced myself to relax. I had nothing to fear from a human.

  She cast a gaze at the man sitting nearest the door, the one who wore the string tie.

  “I didn’t see you in church this morning, Edward.”

  He barely looked up from his coffee. “It’s not against the law, Katie. Otherwise, you’d have sent the sheriff.”

  She hushed her voice, but with my cougar ears, I could easily hear her words. “How does is look to have my own brother miss Rex’s service?”

  Edward didn’t bother trying to match her lower tone. “You married a preacher. Not me.” Several of the patrons shifted uncomfortably as the mood of the diner sobered.

  “He’s a reverend, Edward. Not a two-bit preacher.”

  “I’m sure God could care less about titles.”

  The woman he called Katie stood up straight and looked as if she would say more, but a man walked in behind her. “Let’s get a seat, Katherine,” he said. He looked at the man seated in the booth. “Afternoon, Ed.”

  Edward nodded. “Rex.”

  Ah, the reverend husband. It felt odd listening in on their conversation from across the room, but I grew up in a town where privacy only happened at home and sometimes not even then. There are no secret conversations in a room full of Shifters.

  “Heya, Reverend Kapersky. Mrs. Kapersky,” Freda said to the couple with less enthusiasm than when she’d greeted me. “Y’all have a seat, and I’ll come ’round with some coffee.”

  Whispers began as they sat at the last open table. “I hate her,” I heard someone say. “Shhh,” said another. “Old bat is going to take it too far one day.”

  My uncle came out of the back. “Afternoon, Rev.” He smirked and winked at Katherine Kapersky. “Aren’t you looking like a ripe peach on a hot summer day?”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied. “The next council meeting, you won’t be such a wise-cracker.”

  “You know you don’t want a food chain coming in and killing local business.”

  “Well, you ain’t exactly local, are you, Buzz?”

  The cop Nadine slid from her seat just a few places down from me. “Buzz has been here long enough for us to count him as hometown, Mrs. Kapersky.”

  Freda positioned herself between Buzz and the vile woman. “That’s the truth,” she added.

  Katherine eyed the waitress and the young female officer with disdain. “You shut it, Nadine Booth. If you ever want to be sheriff, you’ll keep in mind who you disrespect.”

  “Like you’d ever throw your hat in for me,” Nadine mumbled.

  “Let it go,” my uncle said. He smiled again at the unlikeable woman. “The usual for y’all? Wedge salad for the missus and a BLT for you, Rev?”

  In reply, Katherine Kapersky took off her jacket and handed it to Freda to hang up before she sat down.

  “Thank you, Buzz. That’d be nice,” Reverend Kapersky said.

  I wished I could say I’d never met anyone as miserable as the Kapersky woman, but unfortunately, people like her were always around.

  Freda took a tray with a BLT on toasted sourdough, and a wedge of lettuce with bacon crumbles, finely diced tomatoes, chopped chives, crisply tart Granny Smith apple slices, and finished off with a creamy bleu cheese dressing (according to the menu) to the reverend and his sourpuss wife.

  “Enjoy,” Freda said, and somehow managed to make the nicety imply that they could, “choke on it.” Katherine Kapersky didn’t even acknowledge Freda. I hated to pass judgment on someone I didn’t know, but this Katie woman made it easy. She was terrible with a heaping side of bitter.

  “Ow!” she shouted and spit a mouthful of salad onto her plate. She picked up a small piece of bacon, examined it and put it back down, her expression sour.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Reverend Rex asked benignly.

  Buzz came out of the kitchen. “What happened?”

  She glared at him. “Other than your bacon being hard as a rock, everything is just peachy.” To her husband, she said, “I think I chipped a crown.”

  “I’m sorry, Katie. You want something else from the kitchen? I have cherry pie.” He smiled.

  I saw the woman soften for a microsecond before her expression once again matched her unpleasant personality. “So I can choke on a pit? No, thank you.”

  I heard someone mutter how they’d like to choke her.

  Katherine Kapersky pushed her plate aside and hissed to her husband, “Hurry up.”

  With great tolerance, the reverend pushed his plate forward and stood up to get his coat on.

  Buzz shook his head but held his tongue. “Have a nice day, folks.” He wiggled his brows as he passed me on the way back to the kitchen. “Welcome to Moonrise, Lily.”

  Chapter 3

  An hour later, I waited at the intersection by the garage, the one with the broken sign. Traffic was light, but I still had to wait for a few cars and trucks. A young man in a full-size gray pickup gestured to me to cross. I gave him a wave of thanks and headed to the other side.

  A blaring horn startled me. “Look out!” I heard someone shout.

  Behind me, a black sedan zoomed past the broken sign and raced toward me.

  My first impulse was to use my cougar strength to leap away from harm, but something slammed into me from behind, and I landed several feet from the street. I rolled to my back and blinked up at the heavy beast that had just saved my life.

  A dog. A great big dog, white and rusty-brown in color, stood over me with its tongue lolling to one side as its ears twitched left and right. Its wide mouth split its adorable face in a smile. Its breath was something to behold—somewhere between sweaty socks and spoiled lima beans. Poor baby needed a mint!

  I sat up. It sniffed at me. I sniffed back. I could tell by the lack of über-charged testosterone in the dog’s scent she was female.

 
“Good girl,” I said, running my hand over her chest and front quarter. She thanked me by licking the side of my face.

  I laughed.

  All this sounds like it took minutes, but really it was seconds. A man grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled her back as I got up from the asphalt.

  “Are you okay?” the guy asked.

  “I’m fine.” And for the first time since I’d left Paradise Falls, I really felt okay. I stood up, dusting the snow and street from my puffy winter coat as we got out of the road. I noticed with more than a little disgust that my leggings had a hole in the right knee. Still, it was better than being road kill. “Your dog saved me.” I smiled at the pittie and scratched under her chin. “She’s a real beauty.”

  “Hold up, girl.” He gently tugged the dog. “Wow, I’ve never seen her this excited.”

  “She’s a hero,” I told him. I took off my gloves and knelt down to rub her cheeks, enjoying the warmth on my hands. “Aren’t you?” I devolved into baby talk. “Yes, you are. Such a good-good girl. A sweet baby. Yes, you are.”

  The dog yanked free of the dude and leaned her body into mine, her wiggly butt gyrating as her giant tail whacked me. The only other time I remember getting tail-whacked like that was when my brother and I played together in our cougar forms. He used to think it was hilarious to tail-smack me. The bittersweet memory made me sigh.

  The dog, as if sensing my melancholy, wedged herself under my arm as if she were trying to hug me. I can’t explain what happened next because I’d never felt anything like it before. A wave of utter adoration washed over me.

  I fell in love with this furry bundle of energy.

  “She really likes you.” He said it as if she didn’t like everyone. A baby as sweet as she was, I found it hard to believe she wasn’t the most popular pet in town.

  “Aww, come here,” I said, looping my arms around her and scratching down her back. I let my gaze go to the man who’d tried to rescue me from my rescuer—and froze.

  He was tall and broadly built, though it was hard to tell how much was him and how much was his winter coat. He had dark-brown hair and ocean-blue eyes. I caught the scent of honey and mint on him. Most likely a cologne or body spray. It smelled really nice.