Early the next morning, I was sucking down the dregs of a kiwi-banana smoothie in the kitchen when Dad's phone rang. Rachael looked up from the farm animal game on her phone, expression intense. True to her word, my cousin had finished all of her homework and thus, my aunt and uncle were honor-bound to allow her to accompany us.

Dad's responses consisted of "huh", "yes", and "okay". He pulled the phone away from his ear and tucked it into his pocket. "Well, that was Detective Merrickson. He's at the Grabowskis' right now. Are you girls finished with breakfast?"

I nodded and stood up to collect our plates. Rachael grabbed her glass and took one long pull at the straw. The remnants of her mixed berry smoothie disappeared like magic. Damn, the way that girl put away food you'd think she was a teenaged boy shifter. When we were younger, my brother Richard ate enough to put a sumo wrestler to shame.

Once the kitchen was clear, we trooped outside to Dad's truck and drove off.

The Grabowskis lived on the southside of town, so it took us about twenty minutes to get there. I spent the time staring out the window, thinking about what we were about to do. This was a delicate situation that we were stepping into and I didn't want to say or do anything that would offend the parents.

The same could not be said of Rachael; my cousin was bold and brazen—a wolf to the core. God only knew what could potentially come out of her mouth.

A huge black SUV with "Streamfield Police" scrawled in white across the doors was parked in front of a modest two-story home painted robin's egg blue. Dad pulled the truck in behind the SUV and we climbed out. Detective Merrickson waited for us in the Grabowskis' driveway, hands in his pockets. Standing next to him was a young officer who looked fresh out of the academy. Behind them, peering out from a living room bay window, were two drawn and worried faces: Jimmy's parents.

"Terry," Detective Merrickson greeted my father. "Ladies," he said, nodding to Rachael and I. "This is Officer Charlie Endel. He requested to be present for today's search."

Officer Endel looked as if he were trying to exude authority, but only succeeded in appearing slightly constipated. "Jimmy's my nephew," he said, pausing to run a hand through sandy blond hair that was, I realized, the same shade as the boy's. He glanced over his shoulder at the figures in the bay window. "You'll have to excuse my sister and brother-in-law," he continued. "They're just so overwhelmed."

"That's quite understandable," Dad replied. He looked around the front yard, then began to pull off his shirt. Rachael and I took that as our cue to start removing our clothes, too.

"Hey—hey!" Officer Endel exclaimed, his pale face turning as red as a fire truck.

Hm? I paused in unzipping my pants. Was there something we were supposed to do first, like sign some paperwork?

"What are you doing?"

Dad slipped his shirt back on. "We can't shift with clothes on," he told the strawberry-faced young man. Next to me, Rachael bit back a giggle. I glanced at her sharply and nudged her with one foot.

"You can't?" he choked out, turning so that he faced away from Rachael and I.

"It's okay, Charlie," Detective Merrickson said, patting the young man on the back. "I'll explain it to you later. Why don't you guys change in the backyard. That's where Jimmy was last seen, anyway."

Dad nodded. "C'mon, girls," he said, gesturing for us to follow.

Rachael and I glanced at each other; my cousin rolled her eyes. Did the officer really think we were going burst out of our clothes, or something? What a waste if we did!

We trooped over to a large, stained stockade fence and let ourselves into the Grabowskis' backyard. I shut the gate and took a moment to look over the crime scene. There was still a line of police tape around Jimmy's play set. Someone had placed a teddy bear at the foot of the slide.

A sudden wave of emotion crashed over me. Good God, it nearly broke my heart. I looked over at Rachael and saw that my cousin had her hand over her mouth; two fat tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. "It's real," she whispered. "I knew ... but I didn't ... you know?"

Oh, I knew.

Dad pressed his lips into a thin, grim line. "Let's bring him home, girls," he said, stripping off his shirt.

Contrary to what I was certain was going through Officer Endel's mind, we didn't need to get completely naked in order to shift. Our bras and underwear were made of 100%-natural materials; magic shredded everything else.

After we folded and piled our clothes on top of an ornamental rock and stacked our shoes nearby, we shifted. Pleasant warmth suffused every inch of my body; I felt my awareness shifting, my body's physical orientation changing as I gave myself over to the magic. In the space of a heartbeat, I stood on four legs instead of two.

Immediately, my perception of the world drastically altered. My vision was brighter, more colorful; I could see much farther in snow leopard form than as a human. A bird chirped and my right ear swiveled; I knew, without looking, the exact place in the tree where it perched. And then, of course, there was my sense of smell. Scents were sharper to my nose, layers upon layers that were unperceived to mundane human senses.

Yawning, I stretched, extending long black claws and sinking them deep into the ragged grass of the Grabowskis' back yard. It had been a while since I properly shifted. After graduating college, I went right to working for the family business, so my free time was limited.

Next to me, Rachael went rigid, the fur on her ruff and spine rising. Her wolf form, cream-colored with a white underbelly, was slightly smaller than mine, but nearly twice as large as a regular lupine. Her ears pricked forward. **Do you smell that?** she demanded, taking a step forward and pulling herself back with effort.

One of the advantages to being a shapeshifter meant that we could communicate telepathically with each other. However, there were several restrictions: we had to be in animal form, could only "speak" across a short distance, and that communication was limited to close family members.

What smell? I hadn't been paying attention, so I took a deep breath, letting the scents of the backyard fill my nasal passages. After so many days, it was faint; lingering like a subtle fog, the greatest concentration seemed to come from the play set.

God, what was that? My upper lip curled instinctively and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The scent wasn't revolting—it was just wrong, alien to its core. Whatever took Jimmy ... it wasn't human.

It wasn't an animal, either.

**Dad?** I called out.

Dad's black ears rotated; his lips curled back from a set of fangs more impressive than my own. At first glance, one might think Dad wasn't a wolf, but a gigantic German Shepherd: brown with a black muzzle, ears and "saddle". But that's where the similarities ended. Dad's muzzle was shorter, his ears wide-set and rounded. Shifter magic could be funny like that.

**I smell it, too,** Dad said, sneezing. Lifting his right foreleg, he pawed at his muzzle. **That ... that isn't right.** My father shuddered, his whole body reacting to the scent. No wonder the dogs ran off. **Where ... ** he mused. **Rach—**

**Coming, Uncle Terry.**

**Here,** Dad said, pointing with his muzzle to a patch of grass.

**Yeah, I got it.**

Mutely, I watched as Rachael and my father sniffed around, knowing that, as a feline, I was at a distinct disadvantage. Wolf noses were better at picking up the subtle nuances of scent. But my mother was a tiger and the magic that shaped me had decided I was better suited to the world as a snow leopard. Besides, when it snowed, I dug the best tunnels for the clan kids with my massive paws.

Dad went straight for the slide; Rachael went to the left, so the right side of the backyard was mine. Wanting to be useful, I chugged around a little patch of grass, aware of Detective Merrickson's and Officer Endel's eyes on us.

A screen door squeaked. My ear rotated towards the sound and I heard two sets of feet on wood. Making a show of it, I snuffled around in a circle so I could see that it was indeed the Grabowskis. Funnily enough, as I pressed my nose deeper into the grass, I caught something that wasn't the foreign scent.

Human.

Jimmy?

**Dad?**

My father's ears pricked. He trotted over to my side immediately. **Is this Jimmy?** I asked.

Dad practically inhaled the grass. He paced in a tight circle, paws trampling a small ring around the pile of scent. **It's faint, but it's got the same texture as the scent by the play set.** His nose swung in an arc, then he was moving forward. **It's mixed in with that other scent.** Suddenly, Dad pushed past a startled Detective Merrickson and Officer Endel and ran out of the backyard.

My feline eyes widened. This wasn't like my father at all. Where the hell was he going?

**C'mon!** I called to Rachael. Lifting my long, heavy tail, I bounded after my father, Rachael at my heels.

Dad shot down the street, making a beeline for the main roadway. Distantly, I heard the two cops shouting, boot heels pounding the pavement. My paws flew over the blacktop, heart racing with excitement. So, this was the thrill of the hunt that I'd always heard about!

The thrill lasted about as long as it took to reach the sidewalk, where I was forced to pull up next to my father or become one giant piece of road kill. Rachael thudded to a stop to my right. We waited in a neat line while Detective Merrickson and Officer Endel stopped traffic.

As soon as death by vehicle was avoided, we were off. The Grabowskis' house was in close proximity to a Catholic cemetery; thankfully, we weren't headed there, but to the elementary school across the street.

I padded after my father and cousin, a silent afterthought, catching a whiff of the commingled odors now and then. It was harder to discern the scents on school property, with hundreds of human, witch, and shapeshifter children passing through here on a daily basis.

Dad and Rachael suddenly parted ways: Dad to the parking lot and Rachael up to the front door of the school. Suddenly, my cousin spun around and ran back to my father.

My ears swiveled, catching the sound of two men's heavy breathing. I turned my head and saw Detective Merrickson and Officer Endel thud to a stop next to me.

"So," Detective Merrickson panted, leaning forward slightly to catch his breath. "What is it? What did you find?"

Me? I hadn't found a damned thing.

I briefly considered shifting back into human form to explain that, but judging by Officer Endel's initial reaction, I decided against it. True, it would make things a little difficult, but I didn't sign up for second-hand embarrassment from a cop. So I simply shrugged, powerful shoulders shifting beneath my thick, heavy pelt.

"Oh, right." The detective straightened. "You can't talk like this. I forgot."

Bingo. I nodded and sat down, tail curling over my paws.

**Back here, Uncle Terry!** Rachael called out. Quickly, she pivoted and darted around the side of the building. Wordlessly, Dad followed.

Detective Merrickson leaned down. "Where are they going?"

Brow ridges furrowing, I got to my feet. While cats possess a wide range of motion in their limbs, it still took a couple tries before both cops understood that I was making a "follow me" gesture with my right foreleg. Once they correctly guessed my charade, they followed me around the back of the school.

By the time we got there, Dad and Rachael were nowhere in sight.

"Oh, come on," Officer Endel griped.

He took a step back as I whipped my head around to pierce him with a look. They weren't in sight, but that didn't mean I couldn't find them. Bits and pieces of their conversation drifted back to me, dimmed by distance.

Beyond the playground was a thick line of trees. Compared to the foreign scent, tracking my family was a piece of cake. With the cops dutifully on my heels, I led them past the swings, around the monkey bars and into the woods.

A thin trail, no doubt laid by generations of elementary school students venturing into the forbidden woods, wove through the slight underbrush. My paws slid over dead leaves and broken sticks, graceful and silent. And there they were, not a hundred yards in.

Dad and Rachael sat staring at a patch of forest detritus, situated between two strange, almost silvery rocks.

"Ah, shit," Detective Merrickson swore. Then hepunched a tree.