by Mason Sabre
Along the lower path, there was a place where it widened, and a weathered sign stood in the middle. It had a plaque that told the history of the house that had been there once, but everyone local knew the tale already.
Years ago, the dock had been a working dock. It had serviced the main factory. The house was for the man who manned the river. The riverman, he was called. He lived there with his wife and daughter. One night, the winds had been too strong, and the rains too harsh. The river had filled with a speed like no one had ever seen. The wife and daughter never stood a chance. They had drowned and the riverman hadn’t been able to save them. No one ever saw him again after that.
Sometimes, in lazy summer evenings, teenagers played ‘who can stay the longest in that spot.’ They hope to see flashes of the wife, or the riverman. Some say he drowns people. So many bodies have washed up there, but many made no sense. Bodies washed up when the tides were low. They’d always be found with their lungs filled with water. Seeing the magic, though, made it all click in Crystal’s mind. She’d bet her life in that moment that the bodies had something to do with whatever it was being hidden under wards and magic.
Jason inhaled when they stopped by the sign and he aimed his nose toward the buildings.
“Can you scent anything?”
“Everything.” He tipped his head back. “Too many scents perhaps. It makes it too hard to differentiate from one to another. I can smell … it’s like magic.”
“It is magic.” Even Crystal could pick that much up. Magic held the hint of the earth, but you had to know what it was to realise what you could smell. “Shayla?”
He was quite a moment. His chest rose and fell, and he closed his eyes. “No … maybe.” When he opened his eyes again, they were the bright blue of his wolf. “I can smell death. It’s like an aftertaste, only it’s a scent, and not something in my mouth.” He moved along the path toward the docks. “It goes this way, for sure.”
She didn’t ask him what death smelt like. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to know really. Probably like rot. The whole world smelt like that according to some. But that was just the sign of the Humans making the earth rot as it spun.
“Maybe I can shift and get a closer look. I can get in unseen that way.”
“Because no one would notice a wolf?”
“Because I can be quieter.”
Shifters had such advanced predatory skills when they were in human form, but when they were animals, it was increased ten-fold. If he was seeing and smelling everything so strong just now, and he shifted, god, she couldn’t even imagine what that would be like to his senses. “I could give you a cover spell.” When he cocked his head and frowned at her, she said, “It won’t make you invisible, but it will make it that they won’t see you. I mean, they will see you, but you just won’t register in their minds.”
“And you’ve tested this magic on others before me?”
She put her hands on her hips and angled her head at him. “Of course, I’ve tested it. What kind of witch do you take me for?”
He raised one brow and pointed to his eyes. She had to admit, his eyes had gone a little red … okay, they’d gone a lot red, but he wasn’t complaining about it. She wasn’t sure he’d actually noticed. Hopefully it would wear off by the time he caught sight of himself. If it didn’t … she’d deal with that later, or maybe go home.
“It was an emergency.”
“I could have gone blind.”
She nodded. “Yep. But you didn’t.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it and put one finger across his very sexy mouth. “No complaining.”
They stayed with eyes locked for a second, and whatever words he wanted to utter, stuck in his throat. “Fine. Do you want me to shift first?”
“Shift … maybe it would be better.” She gave a nod. “Yep. Shift. The spell works surrounding your body, so maybe it’ll be better mapped to the animal.” She just hoped that the cream on his eyes would stay. Shifters healed fast in animal form and although the cream wasn’t a wound, it was something foreign that his animal might reject.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he slipped it off and handed it to Crystal. She took it automatically. “W-what are you doing?”
He had his t-shirt halfway off. It was raised above his head, his arms up, the sleek definition of his muscles made something inside Crystal quake and tremor. She let out a light ragged breath.
Shit.
“Getting ready to shift.” He pulled the t-shirt the rest of the way, then handed that to Crystal too. It was warm, soft against her skin and the scent of him on it was more than she could take. She wanted to put the clothes down just to give her brain some kind of balance, but she didn’t. She wanted to hold them. She wanted to be bathed in his scent and marked as being with him.
“You’re going to get naked?”
“Um … yeah. I’m a shifter. It’s what we do.” When she blinked at him, he added, “Did you think we go all hulk and bust out of our clothes leaving jeans around the waist? Because I can tell you, shifting in clothes bloody hurts.”
Visions of him ripping through his jeans invaded her head. Visions of that part of him made it worse. He started with his belt, unbuckling it before he popped the buttons of his flies. “Wait …” Her voice sounded as unsure and as shaky as she felt. His skin was a hot caress, and he hadn’t even touched her. She hadn’t touched him, but her skin burnt with desire for it. The magical pot inside bubbled and churned and the heat rushed to her cheeks. “I just …”
“It bothers you to see a man in the raw?”
She stepped back with one foot. “No,” she said, daring to look up and meet his eyes. “Just you.”
His movement was so fast. She hardly detected it. It was a breeze against her skin. One moment he was near the sign, and the next, he was right in front of her, his mouth a mere inch from her own. “I bother you?” he whispered. His words were a sweet tingle across her lips. They invited her in, teased her. The bastard knew it too, and he brushed his mouth lightly across hers.
“Jason …”
Without her even realising it, he’d grabbed one of her wrists and placed her hand at the curve of his hip where his jeans hung loosely. She didn’t let go. In fact, she stretched her fingers out against his skin … his perfect, flawless skin that was smooth and toned. He slid a hand up the side of her neck. His thumb rested just before her ear. “You think I haven’t felt it,” he said. “You probably think that I’m just some dumb stray. You do something to me.”
Heat made her stomach clench and it travelled all the way to her centre, making her ache for him. She ached like she’d never before. “You do something to me too,” she whispered back, afraid of her own voice.
“I have to find Shayla, but even that … When I am close to you like this, you make it all feel calm, easy. Like we’re gonna walk into there and just bring her back.”
And he was right of course. She had mistaken the stillness inside for a sensing that Shayla was dead, but no. It wasn’t that. It was being with him, being close to him … there was a hope, a feeling that they could face anything together. It made no sense, though. He was a stranger. A man she had known less than twenty-four hours, yet her magic knew him, something in her soul knew him. No matter what sense she tried to make out of all this, she knew after they found Shayla, she’d never be the same again, and neither would he.
“Push my jeans down,” he said. He still had her neck cupped in his hand and she still had her hand at his hip. He kicked off his boots.
“What?”
With his other hand, he covered hers that was pressed against his skin. He hooked his thumb over his waist band and then pushed both of their hands down until his jeans were loose enough that he could shake them off, but he never broke contact with her. Never pulled back so she could see the true magnificence of his naked form. Even when he moved so he could crouch to shift, he never lost eye contact, and she watched him with such curiosity. She’d never seen a shift so up close before, n
ever seen the way the bones and the muscles moved in a shifters face. It wasn’t frightening. It was fascinating.
When his shift was finished, he sat back on his haunches. “May I?” she asked. She had a hand raised above his head. His fur was an array of greys, browns and whites, like someone had run ash through his coat and left it there to stain. He lowered his head to allow her to touch him. “Wow,” she breathed. His fur was softer than she expected, but coarse like human hair. It tickled her hand, warm and comforting along her skin. If she could have got away with it, she would have wrapped her arms around him and then pressed her face into his neck. His eyes were brighter. The dark blue in the middle faded out to an almost white on the edges. “Are you ready?” she asked.
He gave a snort at her, and she took that as a yes. She’d brought her bag with her, and she pulled out a lotion. This one was different. It was runnier. She kept it in a small pot. One would never know when they needed a good cover spell with them. She palmed some of the lotion, and then rubbed her hands together with it. When she went to reach for him this time, he didn’t lower his head, but he did stay there.
“I’ve never done this with a shifter before,” she said. “In animal form.” She smoothed her hands around the sides of his snout, around his ears, minding his eyes. The red in them had gone, or simply, it couldn’t be seen this way. He watched her, and she pushed her hands through his fur, rubbing the lotion against his skin. It warmed between them, the warmth of magic, and as she traced the path along his sides, tiny sparks began to drift up from him. She knelt back, clapped her hands above his head. Flames shot out as she muttered her words, and they leapt onto Jason. Soaking into his fur.
As she moved back, Jason stood and shook his fur out the way she imagined he would do if it was wet. Tiny embers flew from him, drifting into the air around them and vanishing.
“There,” she said. “They won’t see you, but you need to move normally. If you startle them, it might alert them. Oh. And don’t get wet.”
He snorted out a response to her and she smiled at him.
“If you go first, see what you can find, come back and then we’ll make a plan. I want to know if Shayla is actually in there.” Before they went on a mission that was surely suicide. She didn’t say the last part out loud. He had no idea what they were dealing with.
Chapter 12
If she kept to the edges by the bank that fell down to the river, Crystal could easily follow Jason without being seen. Not that she didn’t trust his capabilities, but if this was Zoey, and she was damn sure it was, then whatever was going on in that building was not just an illegal exchange of documents and secret passes to Exile.
There was enough foliage and hedges to give her cover. Although they did end at a certain point and she had to stop there and wait for him, they were good enough. She held herself low and put herself so that she could see the building, its windows, the doors and most importantly, the big metal shutter that led down to the water.
Jason kept himself to the edges too, even though he had no need for it. Only Crystal could see him. It wouldn’t matter if he happened upon Zoey; she should ignore him too like he was nothing more than a piece of furniture … a very fine piece of furniture. That was the hope at least, but the thing that worried her was that she shouldn’t have been able to see through Zoey’s magic on the building. A witch’s magic was specific to her. Of course, it could be made with holes in it, and it could be possible, but a sure as shit strong spell should keep all out. And Zoey was strong. It was possible that it was intentional. It was also possible that Zoey had used just a run of the mill spell that would keep out most Others and all Humans. The basic spells, that were usually beneath someone like Zoey, but were less taxing on the magical pot.
Although he had gone clear of the hedges now and was practically out in the open, Jason moved with wolf grace. His steps were light, his tail was down, and his ears were back. If she closed her own eyes, she’d probably not be able to tell he was there. If only he could get it into his head that her magic hid him. She supposed it was like when she had tried scuba diving once and almost drowned herself. Mostly because, although she knew she could breathe under the water, her head and natural reactions wouldn’t allow it, and she had ended up spluttering and holding her breath and thinking she was going to die all in the space of a few seconds.
As Jason approached the main gate, he had no choice but to take faith in Crystal’s magic and put himself into the open. The building, which was like an old factory really, didn’t have any guards—none that Crystal could see at least, but was damn sure there was someone watching. They wouldn’t do whatever it was in there without someone peering outside. Even if it just was the transfers, there would be some kind of warning system. Maybe that was the point. Make it look inconspicuous and no one would bother them … that in itself was a warning.
Jason slipped in with ease, and Crystal let out a breath. Her shoulders slumped, and she crouched near to the end of the hedgerow. She was out of sight of the building, but from where she was and her connection to Jason, she could feel him. If he got into trouble, she would know it in a heartbeat. An invisible cord connected them. Only death would sever it now.
“Please be okay,” she whispered. It was all she could hope for. He was wolf, but not just any wolf, he was a Stray too. That had to count for something. Strays didn’t live very long. They were bottom of every heap in Society. They were the trash. Everyone knew being a Stray brought a whole new ball game to the art of survival. To have come this far … to have lived as long as he had … he was strong. He had put his faith in her magic, and she had to put her faith in him.
His job was to go into the building and actually check that Shayla was in there. This was a long shot. They could go through all of this and listen to her gut and end up with her being wrong. She didn’t think she was, but it was possible. And if she wasn’t in there, then Crystal was all out of ideas, because it would mean her seeking abilities were beyond screwed.
There was a small wall near the hedges. It was where the path was the clearest. Crystal sat herself there, leaning against the wall. She squeezed her hands together, twisted her fingers around each other and then practically sat on them as she waited. It was all she could do. She put her head back against the small wall and tuned herself into the link between her and her wolf … her wolf. It should have sounded odd in her mind, but it didn’t. It felt right … too right and that was a problem.
To the back of her, where the wall sectioned off the path, there came the sound of a soft whistling. At least that was what she thought it was. She sat forward, turning her head so she could pick it up. It wouldn’t be unusual for an old place like that to give off sounds and creaks. It was the thing of ghost stories, but then it came again, this time a little louder and Crystal leant herself up to peer over the wall. There was nothing there, though, just the rustle of trees, the lapping of the water … and then … then the sound of someone crying softly.
“Hello?” she asked quietly. There was nothing to see with the hedges and the trees all around her. The only clear view she had was of the docks and the building that went with it, but the sound came from the direction they had come … from where the riverman’s house had stood. Of course, memories of old campfire stories came to her mind and she tossed them out just as fast before her highly imaginative brain could take it all to heights that would scare her. Ghosts existed, so did spirits. It was only the idiotic Humans who tried to deny them.
Something moved, and Crystal gripped the top of the stone wall harder. Through the trees there was a silhouette … no, a person … a girl. Yes. That was what she could see. She leant up more, angling herself so she could get a better view. The girl had her hands cupped over her face. She was young, maybe ten or eleven, but not older than a pre-teen that was for sure. The girl’s shoulders quivered, and she was sobbing silently. Instead of sobs, the sounds were the static buzz that might come through an untuned television.
“Hey,
” Crystal said, squinting at the girl and then easing herself out from her hiding spot and making her way toward the girl.
The girl turned enough so she could look at Crystal. Her eyes were wide, she let her mouth open a little and then closed it again. “No,” she said, quite forcefully, and just as fast as she had seen her, the girl back-stepped and dashed off in the direction of the path towards where the plaque was.
Great.
Launching herself, Crystal jumped over the wall and along the path, keeping the girl in her sights. She had bare feet and tripped twice, but despite the uneven terrain that must have cut her bare soles to pieces, she ran again. Each time she went over, she scrambled, her eyes on Crystal, her hands grasping at something to pull her up.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Crystal called out.
“No,” came the reply again.
Crystal reached the end of the path where it forked off again. Her gut pulled at her, the invisible cord between her and Jason stretched too far. Her heart was torn. If she went on, she was leaving Jason alone. She wouldn’t be able to feel if he needed her help, but if she went back to him, she was leaving this girl … this girl in torn clothes, with a dirty face and fear in her eyes … if something happened to her …
She clenched her fists to her sides and ground her teeth. “God damn it.” She took a step. “Wait,” she called to the girl. “Stop.”
Instead of going to the path where the car park was like Crystal expected, the girl took a hard right and shot into the trees and up the side of the hill. There were rocks and twigs and trees that had come down with the winter months. There was a sign that warned about mud slides in bad weather, but the girl raced up the embankment, using twigs and roots to hoist herself to the higher level. Then she stopped, right at the top, and stared at Crystal.
“Stay there, okay?” Crystal said, ignoring the screaming in her gut. She shot a glance back in the direction of where Jason was and felt the twang of guilt vibrate along her mental connection. She’d left him. He thought she had his back. He was trusting her, and she’d left him. But the girl. She didn’t know Jason all that well, but she felt inside that he would have wanted her to do this. It was right. “I’m coming up.”
