“Here it is,” Mickey said, grunting under the heavy weight of an oversize box that had masking tape wrapped around it several dozen times. “I think Ian was meant to take it, but he’s swamped with deliveries right now, and he and Elyse are talking about driving their cattle back early, and they are fighting a war with the mice near their garden, and one of their goats just had twins but she won’t feed one of them—”
“Mickey!” Damn, he knew this was a small town, but did everyone know everything about everyone?
“Oh, right. They’re your family. You already know all this.”
Actually he didn’t, and now he felt even shittier, thank you, Galena.
Mickey hoisted the box onto the counter with a great groan, then said, “You ever delivered to Perl Island before?”
And there it was. The final rub of this shit-tastic trip. Perl Island, one of the most dangerous places on earth. The Alaskan weather liked to dump all of her violence right over the island. If he was lucky enough to land safely, then he would have to deal with the natives. That strip of land was known in his world as the Island of Misfit Shifters.
“Yes, I have.” Once, and it didn’t go well.
“Well, good luck to you.”
Tobias grunted his thanks and pulled the package off the counter. It was light as a feather to him, but he’d learned long ago that people don’t like seeing his shifter strength. It made humans uncomfortable. So he acted like it was heavy, gave Mickey Gunderson a polite smile, and made his way out the door.
Link was waiting outside, leaned up against the log wall of the post office. “I’m going with you.”
“What? No.” Tobias sauntered right past him and down the porch stairs.
“The lady you’re delivering that to…she’s a witch.”
Tobias barely resisted the urge to growl at him as he turned right onto the main road that led out of town toward the landing strip where his bush plane was waiting. He walked faster, but Link lengthened his stride and kept up.
“Why do you think Perl Island works so well for the misfits? Huh? Think about it. Clayton hasn’t given you a kill order on any of them, and they’re all crazy.”
“Not McCall-level crazy.”
“Maybe not, but maybe so.”
Tobias cast him a quick glance. He hadn’t thought about it before, but Link was right. Clayton Reed, his handler, had never sent him out there to even punish a shifter for stepping out of line. And to his knowledge, Ian and Jenner hadn’t been given orders on Perl Island either. “Tell me what you’re talking about quick before I lose my patience.”
“There’s a lady on the island who has them all in line. They don’t need outside intervention because she’s managing every one of those crazy shifters. All of them, Tobias.” Link gave him a significant look. “How is one woman doing all that?”
“Hell if I know.”
“She’s suppressing their animals.”
“Oh, come on, Link. That’s just a rumor. That shit has been flying around for years. She isn’t a witch, and she’s not suppressing animals. The misfits are just staying in line so people stay off their land and leave them alone.”
“I thought so, too, but then something changed.”
“What changed?”
“I found her.” Link’s voice was growing more and more excited. “I tracked her down—her name and how I could reach her—and I made a call. Tobias, I talked to her, and you know what she told me when I asked her if she could help shifters with out-of-control animals?”
Fine, out of curiosity, he would play along. “What did she say?”
“She said she won’t talk to anyone but you, but that I wasn’t wrong.”
“Me? I don’t know anyone on Perl Island. What does she want with me?”
“To hire you. She said she needs you for an important job.”
“Fuck, Link! You’re getting sucked into this elaborate hoax, man!”