Pet Psychic Mysteries Boxset Books 5-8 (Magic Market Mysteries Book 2) by Erin Johnson (simple ebook reader .txt) 📕

Mark rolled his eyes. “Have been for the last fourteen years. I think I’ll manage.”

Quincy huffed, set his jaw, then muttered, “Fine.” He took off along the suspended bridge walkways that threaded through the enclosures. Peter grinned at me, and I winked. “I think I’ll stay behind.”

Quincy didn’t even react, and Peter and Daisy took off after him toward the office. I waited a moment, then turned to Mark, who’d bent back over the zebra and was looking inside its ears. “I’m gonna—just—look around….”

He didn’t even look my way. “Whatever.”

I wandered around the maze of wood bridges, the humid air making the tendrils of hair at the back of my neck cling to my skin. I held my elbows out wide and grimaced. I’d need another shower when I got back to Peter’s place.

Finally, I found the sloth enclosure again, and as I had earlier, I climbed down from the walkway and pushed through the tingly magical barrier. I had no idea how to find the animal again, so I just cupped my hands to my mouth and, in sloth squeaks, called out for it. Hey, sloth! It’s me, Jolene. I wanted to finish our conversation from earlier.

I tromped a little deeper into the jungle foliage, climbing over giant roots and pushing through thick, waxy leaves I could’ve used as umbrellas, they were so large. I found a little clearing that seemed familiar and stood there, calling for the sloth for what felt like ages. Finally, I heard a little squeak in return and turned my face skyward. The dense trees blocked out the view of the glass atrium ceiling, thick vines trailing down to the soft dark earth.

I got dizzy looking up and turning and then finally spotted my sloth friend. He hugged the trunk of a tree about twelve feet above my head. I grinned and waved at him. He smiled back—but that was probably just the expression he always made.

I let out a series of squeaks. Hey, buddy! You were trying to tell me something earlier, and I think I might know what it was. I took a deep breath, my stomach and chest tight. Snakes, I hope I was wrong.

It blinked its dark, globular eyes at me.

I squeaked again. Are you a shifter?

It seemed to freeze—then again, it was a sloth. That could’ve been its normal speed. Then it slowly opened its little mouth and squeaked. Yes.

An icy cold washed over me. Holy shell. It made sense now. The lemurs too, I suspected were shifters. My powers weren’t fading. Shifters typically weren’t as fluent in their animal forms as a native animal speaker. For instance, when I’d been able to change into an owl, I’d been able to exchange pleasantries with other owls, but couldn’t manage much beyond that.

I edged closer, my head tipped all the way back, and spoke sloth. Do the people who work here know you’re a shifter? Are all the other animals shifters, too? Are you trapped? Are you unable to change back?

As I waited for the sloth to respond, I realized I probably should have asked more succinct questions, but my heart was racing, and I could barely stand still.

It squeaked. Ludolf… Caterwaul…

My hands trembled and I shoved them in my pockets. Hoo boy. This was big. Big and horrible. A mix of terror and rage rushed through me.

Peter’s voice filtered through the foliage. “—not so bad. I appreciate you finding these.”

“Where’s your associate?”

Quincy sounded irritated.

Oh, I’d show him irritated. I bounced on my heels, debating if I should try to get more information out of the sloth, but decided I wanted to confront Quincy.

I squeaked up at the sloth. Don’t worry. We’ll be back, and we’ll figure out a way to free you. Then I took off back the way I’d come, following the sound of Peter’s voice. They were nearly right in front of me when I wandered back out of the magical enclosure and knocked on the invisible force field.

Peter and Quincy whirled in my direction, and Daisy barked.

There she is!

Quincy gripped the rope railing of the swaying walkway. “What’s she doing in there again?”

Peter grinned at me, then turned to Quincy. “Please lower the magical barrier so she can get back out.”

He obliged, begrudgingly, and I stepped forward. The magic rushed back into place as soon as I was free of the enclosure. Peter withdrew his wand and gave me a magical boost back up to the swaying rope bridge.

I grinned my thanks at Peter and grabbed the lapel of his uniform. “A word, Officer? In private?’ I shot a scathing look at Quincy, who spluttered in response. Typical.

“Uh, sure.” Peter and I moved a few feet away, and he muttered a silencing spell so we could talk with candor.

I pointed at him. “You first—what’d you find?” My heart still pounded in my chest. I felt like I could rip a few trees out of the ground.

He frowned as he looked me over, clearly concerned, but he cleared his throat and spoke. “We found the permits. The phoenix was from the Underground Animal Rescue, the one Zane Perez told us about.”

My nostrils flared as I huffed. “The mysterious one that no one in the animal rights world knows anything about?”

Peter nodded. “Just from a cursory glance at the papers, I’d guess they get about 90 percent of their animals from the UAR.”

I shook my head, jaw tight. If I kept this up, I’d probably grind my molars down to nubs. “It’s Ludolf Caterwaul!” I flashed my eyes at him. “The Underground Animal Rescue is Ludolf! The sloth, the lemurs, probably 90 percent of the animals here—they’re shifters!”

Peter blanched. “That’s—”

“Depraved?” I nodded.

A red flush spread up Peter’s neck and cheeks. He whirled and marched up to Quincy, me right behind him. “Who’s your contact?”

Quincy frowned and pointed at one of his large ears.

Peter huffed, irritated, then waved his wand and ended