Cael (Were Zoo Book 11) by R. Butler (best e reader for academics .txt) 📗

wanted to stab people. The norms trusted the elephant shifters so they were able to get up close with them. Predator shifters like wolves and bears couldn’t even set foot in the norm paddocks without causing problems. The only predator shifter who could be in the norm paddocks without issue was Rhapsody, and they were fairly certain it was because she and Kelley were mated and the norms sensed she wasn’t a threat.

After gathering his supplies, he headed out of the maintenance shed and stopped, looking around the huge paddock. He took in a deep breath of spring morning air and tried to clear his head of everything but the tasks at hand, but no matter how he tried to focus on his work alone, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of finding his soulmate.

Hurry up and come to me. I promise to wait for you.

He hoped she would somehow hear his silent plea and come to the park so their paths would cross. He couldn’t wait for the next chapter of his life to begin.

Chapter Two

Novi Jones checked her watch as she strolled into the storage room of the Nifty Thrifty Thrift Store to check out the boxes donated from a local library. She was a bookworm of the highest order and particularly loved old books. Working at a thrift store often gave her the opportunity to look for unique books among donations. That she had four boxes to go through from the library was a boon. She hoped she’d find some good romances for herself and some cookbooks for her mom.

“I’m going to take a break, Novi,” the store manager, Katya, said. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the stack of four boxes that was taller than Novi. “Holy crap, let me help you.”

Together they lifted the boxes one by one and set them on the floor. “Thanks,” Novi said. “I’ll keep an eye on the front in case anyone comes inside.”

Katya nodded. “I have to make a couple phone calls and I never took my break earlier. Holler if you need me.”

Novi nodded and turned her attention to one box, keeping her ears attuned for the telltale ring of the bell signaling someone had come into the store. The first box was full of DVDs, so Novi closed the lid and pushed the box to the section of the storage room for electronic-related items to be shelved. The second box held a mishmash of non-fiction, from war stories to gardening to biographies.

She sat back on her heels and took out one of the books titled “Grow Your Own Food,” with pictures of fruits and vegetables on the front. Novi actually enjoyed gardening, but she and her mom moved too frequently to really get a garden going.

Her thoughts turned bitter for a moment. Why the hell did they have to live in hiding and move every six months, or whenever her mom felt like they were being watched? Little girls often dreamed of growing up to be a princess or an astronaut or finding Prince Charming, but all Novi had ever dreamed of was staying in one place long enough to make friends. Maybe she could have attended a real school instead of being homeschooled.

Shoving the dark thoughts away, she set the gardening book to the side and decided to see if she could start some kind of container garden they could take with them when they moved again. Or, maybe, she could convince her mom to stick around. So far, Novi liked New Jersey. The small town of Little Neck—which she supposed was named after the type of clams—was quaint and friendly, and the spacious yard of their rental home backed up to a forest refuge so she had loads of acreage to roam in. She adored being out in the woods in nature. Her mom said she was born wearing hiking boots.

The front bell rang, and Novi stood and dusted off her jeans before heading out to greet the customers.

“I’m looking for a wedding dress,” the young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties said. A woman who looked like a slightly older version of her was staring at the row of wedding gowns along the wall with a scowl.

“All of our gowns are on that wall,” Novi said, pointing to where they were both looking.

They walked to the wall and quickly flipped through them. Novi had really good hearing, so she heard them making comments about the low quality of gowns available. Novi mentally rolled her eyes. It never failed to surprise her when people expected top quality items at thrift stores. Sometimes—rarely—something amazing came into the store, like a priceless painting or real jewelry or a couture dress, but those times were few and far between.

“I want to see what you have in the back,” the older woman announced, turning to look at Novi.

“What we have is out already,” Novi said.

“I don’t believe you,” she said with a sniff. “I want you to go look in the back and bring out any dresses you find.”

Novi had the urge to growl and bare her teeth at the irritating woman, but she tamped down the feeling. “I assure you that there are no wedding gowns in the back.”

“You’re lying,” the young woman said.

Novi’s gums ached suddenly, and she ground her teeth together to stop the ache before she spoke. “I beg your pardon?”

“A friend of a friend said she read on social media that a wedding store had donated a bunch of gowns to this thrift store and they were being held back for some kind of promotional sales push. We want to see them now.”

Novi inhaled and exhaled slowly. “That’s simply not true. We haven’t gotten a shipment from anyone with wedding dresses