She grinned. “With Sam Snakeman campaigning for shifter rights, royalty figured it’d be fitting to find their replacements with another competition.”
I took another sip of coffee. One woman with long blue hair frantically kneaded a ball of dough, while a trio argued over the proper way to knead. At least I guessed that was what all the raised voices and slapping the dough on the table was about.
“So are all these people shifters?” It surprised me that they’d be so open about it. While I liked the changes Sam Snakeman was pushing for, acceptance of shifters still felt a long way off.
Madeline snorted. “We’re not that far along, honey. But I believe they’ve all made statements supporting the rights of shifters to work in their kitchens. Since the palace bakery needs a whole new staff, this time the competition involves teams of three.” She flashed her eyes at me, grinning. “So who knows? Maybe there are a few shifters among them.”
I pulled my lips to the side. That would be the sea’s knees, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath. I blew out a sigh, then turned to face the bleachers. There had to be hundreds of people gathered to watch the competition. Madeline and Peter turned with me, and the journalist pointed to the top of the gold risers. “That’s Princess Imogen with the red hair.”
I recognized the bun and the bangs from the tabloids—including Madeline’s articles—with the photos that caught the princess making unflattering expressions and pondered if she’d been eating too many of her own rum balls. I was sure the princess just loved that. I glanced at the reporter and wondered if her friendship with the royals was as tight as she claimed.
“Beside her is Prince Harry, of course.”
The two held hands and chatted with their heads close together. The handsome prince smirked, and his princess threw her head back and laughed. I guessed that was her famous baking fire burning in the lantern that sat beside her hip. The little flame munched on a stick and spat out ashes onto the head of the lady who sat in front of him.
Madeline waved her hand. “A bunch of their friends are up there, but that guy, with the glasses and no chin—”
I followed her finger and spotted Sam Snakeman.
“That’s Sam.” She tipped her head side to side. “He’s shy though, so I’m going to introduce you to Imogen first.”
I raised a brow at that. Imogen, huh? No “princess”? I sighed and nodded. I sure hoped Madeline wasn’t just full of hot air. We were counting on her making the introduction so Peter and I could tell them all about Ludolf Caterwaul. We were hoping they’d believe us about the underground shifter population that lived in the sewers and about Ludolf, who bullied our community like a true mob boss.
He’d been masterful for decades at carrying out his dastardly deeds in secrecy, distancing himself from his crimes by having layers of underlings who would take the fall for him. We’d finally managed to find a crime we could pin on him, but we needed the royals’ help.
Peter, Daisy, and I had recently freed a bunch of shifters trapped in their animal forms from a zoo. They were currently destroying my old apartment, with my friend Heidi watching over them all, until we could figure out a way to turn them back to their human forms.
Ludolf had created the potions that had trapped them, and only he had the key to changing them back. With my ability to speak to animals, I’d chatted with all of them and knew they’d be willing to testify against him. But we’d need to change them back, otherwise it’d just be my word that these were shifters and not just regular animals. And no one would believe me—they’d see me as a disgraced shifter who claimed to be a pet psychic.
I gulped, my throat dry. None of our efforts would mean anything, though, unless we got the backing of the royalty. Ludolf had straight-up told me he owned the police, the judges, and the politicians on our magical island. So even if we managed to arrest him and change the shifters back, we needed a guarantee that he’d be prosecuted fairly.
I stared at the laughing princess. That’s where she came in. With their vows to fight for shifter rights, Sam, Princess Imogen, and Prince Harry were the only people in power we might be able to trust to bring Ludolf to justice.
I squared my shoulders. I had to make them believe us. I threw my head back, chugged the rest of my coffee, then gave Madeline a firm look. “Let’s do this.”
She smirked. “We’re going to have a chat at a baking competition, not storm the castle.” She winked. “Relax, honey.”
I blew out a shaky breath. Easy for her to say. Aside from my desire for justice, my whole life was riding on this. I was one of Ludolf’s test subjects in his grotesque mission to create a “cure” for being a shifter. And if we didn’t stop him soon, I’d end up like those other trapped shifters… or worse.
Peter’s big warm hand wrapped around mine and gave me a gentle squeeze. I glanced back, and his big blue eyes sparkled. “We’ve got this.”
The tightness in my chest relaxed a bit, and I took an easier breath, then nodded and squeezed his hand back. “Yeah, we do.”
Daisy whined, her head tipped to the side. Partial truth—not sure even you believe it.
Peter glanced at her, then at me, his brows slightly pinched.
I shot the dog a flat look. Not the best time for her truth-sniffing powers to be calling me out.
Madeline clapped me on the shoulder. “Come on.”
The reporter led the way up the side of the bleachers toward the palace guards who blocked the royal row with their long golden lances. We’d made it halfway up when a shriek sounded
