Page 157 of Shifter Situations

“Millie? Is everything okay?”

Epilogue

Miller Lynch

Tuesday, June 9th

Mid Morning

Spending the day with Murphy hadn’t been high on my to-do list, but my twin had always been intuitive when it came to my feelings.

I wasn’t surprised when he pestered me into going shopping with him. He’d given me two whole days to get over my latest breakup, and I was still in the dumps. That wasn’t acceptable for him.

Palmer would have given me more time to mope.

Murph had forced me to go to a few local shopping centers with him. I bought too many useless things, but the material objects made my heart happy.

We argued over where to eat lunch, and decided to play a game of rock, paper, scissors. Throughout our childhood, Murph had constantly picked rock, and nothing had changed. His laziness never ceased to amaze me.

I covered his fist with my hand, declaring myself the winner.

We were on our way out of the pizza parlor when we were approached. The man’s eyes flashed from deep brown to yellow, but that was the only indicator that he was supernatural.

Several species had changing eye colors, so I couldn’t pin down exactly what he was other than a pain in my arse. I had enough self-preservation instincts to know this wasn’t a coincidence.

“Are you Miller Lynch?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe.”

My eyes cut to Murphy quickly before returning to the male in front of me. I wasn’t really sure what to do in this situation, but my gut said run.

It wasn’t often, if ever, that a stranger just waltzed up and knew my name.

His upper lip twitched as he bared his teeth. “The night witch?”

“Who are you?” Murphy demanded.

The male ignored him, hyper focused on me. “Where is Palmer Lynch?”

I shrugged. “How the hell would I know? Do I look like his keeper or something?”

He advanced, his shoulders bulking up in size as he tried to separate me from Murphy. But my twin was having none of that today.

My brothers were ridiculously protective of me. Normally it would bother me, but as the supe crowded me into the table behind me, I was thankful for their aggressiveness.

Murph sidestepped, making it look like he was trying to get away from the altercation. The henchman reached out to grab me, and my twin snatched a fork off the nearby table.

The moment the strange supe’s fingertips brushed my forearm, Murphy stabbed him. He sank the prongs of the fork into the soft flesh of his neck, and blood oozed out of the holes with every beat of the male’s heart.

We darted out of the restaurant, onto the busy footpath

“Millie, we need to call Palmer,” Murphy urgently whispered, peering over his shoulder.

He had a bruising grip on my left elbow, dragging me through the crowds as he steadily picked up our pace until we were running. I fumbled with the zipper of my small purse, finally opening it enough to pull my cell phone out.

Facial recognition was a magical thing, and as my screen came to life, I pressed the side button.

“Call George.”