Feral Curse by Cynthia Leitich Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

with elaborate schemes to get girls alone.” His tone is matter-of-fact. “You said you thought the Coyote was stalking you. He’s bad news, and I’m not the type to let you deal with him on your own.”
    I’m not sure whether to be embarrassed or annoyed. “Because I’m a girl?”
    “Hardly. My sister, Ruby, who’s training to be a cop, could kick my ass on any random Tuesday. But have
you
ever been in a real fight?”
    Somehow I don’t think he’ll be impressed that I scared off a hawk. Once. Years ago. “There are shape-shifters in law enforcement?”
    Yoshi frowns. “There are shape-shifters pretty much everywhere. Not all of us keep to our own kind. It’s a dangerous way to live, but . . .” He begins jogging down the path, and after a moment, I follow. “Over here,” he calls, alongside the park play-scape. “You catch his scent?”
    I circle in, concentrating. “Yeah.” My voice goes hollow. “He’s been in my backyard.”
    “Uh-huh.” Leaning against the swing set, Yoshi folds his arms over his chest. “Okay, enough mystery. Let’s see what we can rule out. Are you a sorcerer, wizard, alchemist, magician, or non-peace-loving-non-wiccan variety of witch?”
    I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Absolutely not. I am a Methodist.”
    Yoshi runs a hand through his shiny hair. “I want to ask you something else. Follow me.”
    Seconds later, we’re standing in front of the antique carousel, or what’s left of it. Stripped of the carved animal-shaped figures, it looks like a lonely wood-and-metal corpse.
    Yoshi steps up on the platform like that’s no big deal, like it isn’t some sort of sacred space. He’s the first person I’ve seen do that since Ben died, though of course the Stubblefield sisters and Sheriff Bigheart and whoever installed the photo display must’ve tromped all over it.
    Yoshi extends his arms to both sides. “What do you know about this thing?” He gestures at the photo of Ben in his Jesus costume. “And exactly who is Mr. Wonderful?”
    I don’t want to have this conversation. “Why?”
    Yoshi sinks to sit on the edge of the carousel platform. “This is where I teleported in, after touching a carved cat figure that I’m betting used to be attached to it.”
    Any other day, I would’ve dismissed the idea outright.
    Tonight, in the moonlight, anything seems possible. Is that how Darby got here? He mentioned the carousel, too. I ask, “Teleported, like on
Star Trek
?”
    Yoshi laughs out loud at that, and the genuineness of it prompts me to tell him about Ben and how he died, though I leave out the part about him being my boyfriend. I’m not sure why. It’s not that I don’t trust myself to talk about it without welling up. I’m past that. I am.
    “Yeah,” Yoshi says finally. “I remember seeing the story in the news.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say something more but can’t find the right words.
    I nod, letting him off the hook, and then Yoshi and I trace the werecoyote’s scent and faint paw prints to the river.
    “We should sweep the area,” the Cat says. “I’ll go this way. You head down there. But don’t wander far.” He moves toward the bridges, and I do another quick pass through the picnic area before turning in the other direction.
    “Over here!” Yoshi calls from the patch of woods between the park and downtown.
    I leave the riverbank to meet him on the stairs leading to the parking lot outside the library. “Our Coyote left his clothes on a branch, along with this.” Yoshi hands me an ID. “Kitten, say hello to Peter Villarreal of San Antonio, Texas.”
    Did he really call me “kitten”? I make my way up the stairs to the nearest streetlight for a clearer look, confirming the scent. Peter looks a bit like I’d imagine from his animal form. He’s wiry with a prominent nose, pronounced ears, inquisitive expression. He has a dimpled chin and the kind of auburn hair that glints red. I try to imagine him without