“We have turkey sausage for the same reason at my house." I took a bite, smiling as I chewed so she would know I liked it. Or, at least, that was the emotion I meant to convey. Instead, I looked like a mentally challenged homicidal maniac. I know because I caught my reflection in the super-shiny refrigerator.

Miriam didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she was too polite to cringe and run the other direction. She wasn’t, however, too polite to stare at me. Intently. For a really long time.

“I’ll put the contacts and wig back on if it’ll make you more comfortable.” I tried to sound nice about it, really I did, but my annoyance was more than evident.

“What?” Miriam looked perplexed, but then the pieces slid together. “Oh no, dear. There is nothing at all wrong with the way you look.”

Of course there wasn’t.

“Listen, I like you. You’ve given me food and a bed, even knowing what I am and how dangerous it is for you to do so. I appreciate it more than I can say. So, please, don’t screw it all up by giving me that crap. We both have eyes, and I’m way past the point of being sensitive about it. Pretending I look like a normal girl is just going to piss me off.”

I usually wasn’t so blunt about it with adults, and the few times I had said something similar to teenagers it was met with lots of stuttering and red cheeks. A few even got a little angry themselves. Miriam surprised me by laughing a big, natural belly laugh.

“Oh, this is good,” she said once she regained her breath. “Liam has finally met his match.”

I decided she deserved my ire. “Speaking of His Royal Crankiness, where is he?” I couldn’t scent him in the house anywhere, nor could I hear him outside.

“That nice but entirely too serious young gentleman you came with is out taking care of some business today. It’s just us girls.”

Uh-oh. I did not like the sound of that one little bit. I am so not a Girl’s Day kind of girl. I’m more of a Nose in Book Day or The Walking Dead Marathon Day kind of girl. If she expected me to get a pedicure and talk about my feelings we were in for a long and painful experience.

“When you get done with breakfast we’re going to head into town to do some shopping.”

Oh God. It was worse than I thought.

“I’m actually supposed to be keeping a low profile…”

“No worries,” she said with a wave of her hand. “The shop we’re going to belongs to a friend of mine. They’re closed today, but he’s going to let us grab what we need.”

Knowing we wouldn’t be surrounded by a bunch of people or get harassed by saleswomen who seem way too eager to give me a bra fitting helped. I wouldn’t say I was excited to change into my one and only clean outfit and head out into the not-so-thriving metropolis of Fargo, North Dakota, but I wasn’t dreading it with every fiber of my being either.

***

“Miriam!” The owner of the quaint little store stood waiting for us on the sidewalk. “It’s simply marvelous to see you.” Krummholz was a sporting goods place, so I was expecting a gruff old hunter or maybe a has-been athlete. Instead, I got a gay man with skin a bit too dark for the frigid North and rock hard abs evident beneath his thin grey sweater.

“Spence, you are so sweet to agree to see us today,” Miriam said, kissing him on the cheek as if we were French or something. “I owe you one.”

Spence’s face lit up and I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. The handsomeness, however, was lost in the tiny surge of power I saw come off of him at the same moment.

“What are you?” The words slipped out before I realized it was probably a bad idea.

“I’m a small business owner. What are you? A pseudo-goth? Misguided hipster?” He reached out to flick the ends of my wig, and I growled at the invasion of my personal space. Spence snapped his hand back as if it was on fire.

“Sweet baby Jesus and his mama Mary! You’re a… You’re…” His eyes darted up and down the street. “In the store. Now. Both of you.”

I scurried right in, but Miriam sauntered her way through the door, rolling her eyes when they met mine. “Spence, I would like you to meet Elizabeth.”

Spence threw the deadbolt on the door. “Please, tell me that’s not your real name.” He threw up a hand. “No. Don’t. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want to know anything.” He turned to Miriam. “I mean it. I don’t want to know anything at all. This isn’t my world. Not my problem. Not my neck to be stuck on the line.”

“Don’t be silly, Spence.” Miriam breezed towards the back of the store. Not knowing what else to do, I followed. “Of course this is your problem. A Seer cannot simply hide his head in the sand just because he doesn’t like politics.”

“A Seer?”I stopped next to a display of bug repellent. “But you’re a boy.”

Spence lifted an eyebrow a full inch up his forehead. “And you’re a girl, Little Miss Shifter. These things do happen, you know.” He studied the display with a critical eye, moved around a few canisters to make the shelf look fuller, and then continued. “And, for the record, I’m a man. I passed 'boy' without so much as a glance many years ago.”

Of course I knew guys could sometimes See things, but it was still strange to me. I was certain Spence wasn’t a Shifter, and somehow I had, without conscious thought, decided all male Seers were like Alex.

“What do you See?” I asked, once again trailing behind Miriam.

“Jesus, have you no manners at all? I thought Southerners were supposed to be all genteel and shit.”

“And I thought gay men were supposed to be fashion-conscious,” I said looking at the ugly white tennis shoes peeking out from underneath his slightly wrinkled and overly long khaki pants.

“Are you stereotyping me?”

I finally caught up with Miriam, who was looking at a wall of shoes. “You did it first,” I retorted.

“Children, please,” Miriam said, picking up a hiking boot. “Dulzura, Spence doesn’t like to speak of his gift and prefers to ignore it. Please be considerate of his wishes on the matter.” She turned to Spence. “As for you, she is a Shifter in need of your assistance, not to mention still a child. Quit antagonizing her, and help her find a pair of boots. Liam said she needs something good for climbing, and they have to be weather-resistant.”