Page 14 of Plaidypus
“But I bet you could make her purr with enough effort.”
As the wolf had finished stealing my blood, I got up and headed for the kitchen in the futile effort to scrounge up more hot chocolate. While certain I’d cleaned out every last one of my stashes, I would triple check to be certain. I washed my hands in the sink to remove the trace drop of blood where Leonard had poked me with his meter.
My brother chuckled and followed me. “Since when have you been shy?”
“Since I became a species that mates for life,” I informed him.
“Platypuses mate for life,” Leonard announced, following me into my domain. “The primary difference between a platypus shapeshifter and a wolf lycanthrope is simple. A platypus shapeshifter has a willingness to test drive their partner in bed before settling down, where wolves tend to mate with their first partner. The virus goes out of the way to secure a compatible mate. While the virus doesn’t always get it right, it does try to preserve its host. As such, it isn’t interested in establishing a bad partnership. The CDC takes steps if someone is trapped in an abusive relationship due to the lycanthropy virus.”
When I thought about it, my beasts had been rather vocal about candidates in the days since the accident, with the wolf taking the lead but listening to the platypus. Leonard had been the first man to interest both of them.
I held the opinion the platypus had a death wish.
What sort of prey species bedded a predator?
My platypus, apparently.
I crouched and checked under the sink, rummaging through the cleaning supplies in the hope I had shoved some hot chocolate down there after a cleaning binge. To my disappointment, I’d done a good job of putting everything in its appropriate place.
“Does the scanner check for hot chocolate addiction?” my brother asked. “When she tries checking under the sink, the problem is clear. My sister has run out of hot chocolate.”
“I don’t need a scanner to inform me she has a severe hot chocolate addiction. Nancy? Can you hit the store on your way out and retrieve some hot chocolate? Our imposition has added significant stress to our lycanthrope friend’s day, and her stockpile of hot chocolate has been exhausted.”
“We’re on it,” the vampire replied, and a few moments later, the front door opened and closed.
“There. They’ll bring back hot chocolate before they go have their supper.”
My wolf was ready to lick hot chocolate out of the palm of Leonard’s hand, and the platypus would contribute with her typicalbrbrbrbrbrpurr-huffs. One day, I might be bothered to find out what the official name of my species’ purr-huffs was, but that day was not today. I doubted it would come anytime soon.
Her purr-huffs amused me.
Rather than worry about my platypus, I needed to focus on more important matters: keeping the Carlston sisters alive during their stay in town. I halted my search and twisted to regard the lycanthrope. “If the townsfolk figure out they’re vampires, they’ll be in trouble.”
“They have their CDC badges with them. They’ll flash their badge, and that should put an end to the issues. And if it doesn’t, they have their RCMP badges with them, a gift for our job up here.”
“They’re badged with the RCMP?” I blurted.
“The CDC is aware of the issues with this area, so they asked for a favor from the RCMP. The RCMP is respected up here, where they may not bother to think twice about the CDC.” Leonard shrugged. “They’ll be fine. They’re skilled at self-defense, and unlike most people from small towns, they’re actually trained in how to fight. Their incubus should already be back in town with their donors. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone touching his vampires. Let’s just say he’s quite capable of defending his ladies. I don’t expect them to have any problems acquiring your hot chocolate. Also, don’t worry about repaying them. They love forcing the CDC to compensate them for things like that. It amuses them, and amused vampires aren’t trying to separate me from my blood.”
I stared at him. He focused on the meter, tapping a finger against the white casing. “The CDC is going to compensate them for my hot chocolate?”
“A stressed, anxious lycanthrope is a lycanthrope who might snap if provoked. A stressed, anxious lycanthrope given hot chocolate may become a relaxed lycanthrope. It’s standard protocol. They’ll wipe the store clean of the best hot chocolate money can buy, milk so you can indulge properly, and marshmallows. Once they load their cart up with that, they’re going to remember I, their precious source of blood, am also a lycanthrope, so they’ll buy out half the store, expecting me to teach you what lycanthropes should be eating. Ah, excellent. Your species has been registered. Ready?”
“Some form of wolf and platypus?” I guessed.
“Australian Platypus, bracket four, is your official shapeshifter designation.”
“Bracket four?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“The CDC likes neatly labeling lycanthropes and shapeshifters into species groups. They take DNA samples from wildlife and put them into genetic brackets. Bracket one is the most common genetic group of platypuses. Two and three are less common genetic strains, typically located in areas where there has been increased threats to habitat or die-off; they’re essentially evolving for survival. Bracket four consists of five individuals, yourself included. Essentially, you’re the start of a genetic group, along with the other members of bracket four.”
As I’d never gone to college and had limited interest in biology, I assumed he meant I was a freak. “This is because my father is a pony, isn’t it?”
Leonard chuckled and shrugged. “Shapeshifters can be anything. You’re a platypus because you’re best suited to be a platypus. Sometimes, if you have two shapeshifters of the same species who mate, you will get shapeshifters of the same species, but it’s a roll of the dice. We still don’t understand why. Magic works in mysterious ways. Genetically, you’re closer to ancient platypuses compared to modern ones. We’ll have to see you when you’re shifted and figure out if you’re actually a different species. The reading isn’t clear—which is why you’re in bracket four.”
“We’re a family of freaks, Nadine.” Matthieu snickered, grabbed my kitchen stool, and went into the cabinet above the refrigerator, which contained our extra cleaning supplies we’d bought to save money. With a triumphant huff, he pulled out a dark tin. “I am the most considerate of brothers.”
He hopped off the stool and presented an unopened tin of Godiva cocoa.
