Series: Shifter Ops Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
I slam the window shut, grinding my teeth so hard Channing can probably hear it on the front lawn.
I'm still seething when I head to the kitchen for lunch. Channing wasn’t kidding about the grocery delivery. A little after noon a car pulled up, and a gangly kid, identical to the one who delivered the pizza, carried armfuls of brown bags to the house. I half expect to come down to a table full of grocery bags filled with melting ice cream, but Channing put most of it away.
Geo had a heavy hand in choosing what to order. The freezer is full of frozen waffle fries and pizza rolls, and there are twelve gigantic boxes of sugary cereal, the kind I never buy unless we’re camping. I add this to the list of Channing’s sins, but when I open the fridge, a brilliant forest of green and red lettuce greets me. There’s even fresh basil. Beside the coffee pot is a fancy cheese platter, the type I’d buy to take to a party, along with boxes of three different types of crackers. And a jar of my favorite green olives. When I was pregnant, I ate a jar of Castelvetrano olives a day. I craved them, and Geoffrey drove all over town finding the fancy wine shops that sold them.
Channing must have remembered the story. Geo was a baby when Channing moved in with us. He was a wild teen, slipping in and out of the house at odd hours. I never would’ve thought he’d noticed or cared.
I’m beginning to realize I don’t know Channing at all.
Channing
The sun’s high, and it’s hot on the roof. I’d put on a shirt out of respect for Julia, but within six seconds it’d be soaked with sweat. I called my friend Buddy, my shifter friend in the area, and he has time to help me with these construction projects. He can get me a deal on new windows, too.
I should run all this by Julia. She’s stressed this morning and annoyed by my presence. It’s easier to tell her after the fact than ask permission. More fun, too. She’s so cute when she’s mad.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out. The screen reads Deke, so I answer with a grin. “Miss me, Daddy?”
“No.”
I wait, but he says nothing, so I prompt, “What’s up?”
“I just dropped the triplets off at Bad Bear mountain.”
“Just now?” I do a quick calculation. “It’s been thirty-six hours.”
“I know. Long story.” Deke’s voice promises a world of hurt to anyone who probes further, so I don’t. “I did some digging. Turns out the Terrible Threes heard about the fight club on a new app. There’s a secret chat room that’s frequented by shifters, most of them teenagers.”
“Okay.”
“I made them show me the app and read the messages. This guy Hannibal? He’s on there. And he challenged several shifter teens to meet him there to fight. The triplets took the bait.”
A chill washes over me. “He lured them there.”
“Exactly. He’s up to something. I can’t prove it, but that’s what my instincts say.”
“I knew it. I couldn’t smell his animal.”
“I have Kylie hacking the app and digging around to see what she can find. I’d ask you to help, but I know you’re on a mission.”
“Yeah.” I look down at the shingle in my hand. “It’s more complex than I thought it would be. But ping me if you need to.”
“Will do. Keep your eyes and ears peeled.” He hangs up.
I rub at the knots in my chest. An app for shifter teens? It makes sense. Puberty sucks. It would help to have a pack of friends who understand how hard it is, especially for shifters like Geo who live apart from his kind.
But it’s dangerous. Apps can be hacked, or someone like Hannibal can show up and prey on the unsuspecting teens. Technology changes everything.
A growl rumbles through me. My wolf wants to hunt. I don’t know what sort of animal that freak Hannibal was, but I want to take a bite out of him. Especially if I find him hanging around Flagstaff. Our meeting with him was too close to Julia’s place for comfort.
Julia’s tense voice drifts up to me. She’s in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone. The woman has two phones–one for work, one for personal, and she’s on the work one most of the day.
I pocket my cell and swing down from the roof. Her back is to me, and her shoulders have risen halfway to her ears.
“I understand it’s the beginning of the year,” Julia says in a calm-but-frustrated tone. “I’m asking you to give me his transcript so far. No, I don’t want to wait until December. No, I– Yes, I can hold.” She blows out a breath and growls to herself.