by Bonnie Vanak
The question made them both look away. His jaguar intuition warned there was more to this than what Xavier had told him.
Ella came over to check on their drinks.
“If you’re not doing anything after work, how about taking pity on me and having a drink with me?” he asked her.
That line usually worked with Skins, Xavier had assured him. A drink was safe. Not a date.
Ella pushed a lock of hair away from her face and sighed. “Why would I want to drink after working in a bar for eight hours straight?”
Good question. He thought quickly. “Because it’s with me.”
The flirtatious charm always worked for him in the past. Not with Ella, who started to turn away.
“Way to ruin it, cat,” Xavier said.
Ella turned back. With the blare of noise in the bar, no ordinary person should have heard the Crystal Wizard’s mutter. But she was no ordinary person. Kieran wondered if Ella was aware of her senses growing sharpened.
“Are you really his friends?” she asked the wizards.
“It depends on how much money he owes you,” Gideon drawled.
Ella smiled, and suddenly Kieran was jealous. He wanted to be the one to coax a smile to her face.
“Ella, quit wasting time,” a male voice boomed.
She scurried away. Kieran scowled as he looked at the male–a thickset man in his early fifties standing at the doorway. Ella’s boss, maybe.
Xavier leaned forward, his mouth a think slash. “I’ll give you a boost, cat, and give her a mental nudge to accept you. You’ll need it. If I have to wait for her to come to you willingly, the polar ice caps will melt.”
“I don’t need help. And I will not force her. She will come to me willingly. She must, if we are to work together.”
His gaze narrowed at Xavier. “Instead of wasting your powers on influencing her, tell me the places where you and Ciara visited so I can expedite the search for the crystal.”
“The scrolls she will translate will aid you,” Xavier told him.
He listened intently as the wizard relayed the beach in Florida where they had walked, the hotel they had stayed at, even the chairs where they’d sat. Kieran mentally logged each detail for later use. His memory had served him well in the past, in fighting battles and defeating enemies.
Ella brought their food and hurried off again. Kieran ate his steak, while the wizards barely touched theirs.
“Uh oh,” Gideon muttered.
And then he glanced at the bar and saw something that made his blood boil.
At a table, a balding, middle-aged man talked with Ella, who was clearly uncomfortable. Then he clapped a hand on her bottom.
Her luscious, apple-rounded bottom. She jerked away, her face red, and then hurried off.
How dare that worm touch her with such disrespect?
Claws emerged from his fingertips. Kieran hissed and dragged them across the smooth wooden table surface, scarring it.
Gideon flicked a finger and a tendril of stinging energy seared his hand. “Ow.” he jerked back.
“That is not the way to handle it, my friend,” the Crimson Wizard warned. “I understand your frustration, but you cannot use your claws in public.”
So they wanted him to act like a Skin. Fine. Kieran slid out from the booth, walked over to the leering male who had dared to touch Ella without permission. Or touch her at all.
He stood before the male, who slurped his beer. “What?” the man snapped.
“Do not disrespect women,” he said calmly. See? I can leash my temper? I have control.
The man blustered and pushed back his seat, standing eye to eye with Kieran. “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?”
“The waitress is not a piece of meat. She is a woman and deserves your respect. Now are you going to apologize to her for groping?”
“Make me,” the man jeered.
“Fine,” Kieran said, and he punched him, sending the man toppling to the floor. Blood dotted his knuckles. Split the man’s lip. Good.
Xavier dumped a wad of cash on the table, and then he and Gideon tore over. They grabbed his arms, steering him out of the bar as the man’s friends started after him.
“I handled it like a Skin,” Kieran protested. “What is the problem?”
“You handled it like a jealous cat,” Xavier muttered. “Show a little restraint.”
Instinct had urged him to shred the man like ground meat. “I showed much restraint. I could have killed him.”
Outside, they were nearly at his car when he smelled her. Kieran turned to see Ella racing toward him.
“Kieran, wait.”
Ella raced after him. She ground to a halt, her expression filled with wonder.
“Thank you. No one has stood up for me in a long time. Not that I need it, but it…” She nibbled on lower lip. “It was nice of you.”
Damn if he couldn’t help stare at her mouth, hungering to nibble on it himself. He drew himself up straight. “You deserve better treatment, fair maiden. No woman should be abused like that simply because she serves meals.”
She gave him a smile that made his knees go weak. If she kept smiling like that at him, he would slay all the dragons in the kingdom for her, and every male who even looked twice at her he would turn into mincemeat.
“I get off work at midnight, so if you still want that drink, it’s going to be a long wait.” She gave a tiny sigh. “Of course I understand if you have plans.”
“No. I do not.”
She gave a shy smile. “Great. There’s a late night bar in town called the Mountain Suds. Kind of a dive bar, but the folks are friendly and the drinks are reasonable.”
“Sounds perfect.” Any place with her would be perfect. But away from nasty men who thought because she served food, she owed them something. “Do you have a vehicle?”
Her face dropped. “No, I came on my bike.”
“I shall return here to pick you up.” He glanced at Xavier and Gideon, hoping this was the correct terminology. At their slight nods, relief filled him. I can do this.
“You’re going to drive?” Gideon asked Kieran.
“I can drive.”
Xavier looked at Ella with humor sparking in his eyes. “Good luck. I advise you to consider the Uber, a modern day transportation conveyance.”
“Or a horse. Much easier to handle for our Kieran,” Gideon added.
Kieran pulled his lips back to snarl at the duo. Gideon blinked. “Your driving skills are much rusty. Rustier than my lance and you would not want Ella…disappointed. Not that there’s anything shameful about it, my friend.”
Ok, we’re even, wizard. He turned to Ella. “They jest. I am a good driver. But if you wish to take an Uber instead, that is fine with me. I can meet you there.”
Good move, for she relaxed a little. Maybe it was the idea of being alone with him in a car that rattled her.
“I have to get back.” Ella smiled at him. “Thanks again.”
The quick kiss she brushed against his cheek fired his blood anew. Kieran stared after her as she raced into the restaurant.
“I’m never washing this cheek again,” Xavier sang out in a high falsetto. But both wizards were smiling and he had a silly grin on his face.
Xavier went to unlock the rental vehicle when gooseflesh sprang out on Kieran’s arms.
A loud shriek, like a keening whistle, split the air. Kieran yelped and covered his ears. Pain whipped through him. The sound continued, and tears poured from his eyes from the effect.
And then he looked up and saw it.
Beneath the yellow sodium parking lot light, a black raven sat on the hood of a car. It opened its mouth and shrieked again, but its beak elongated, the mouth opening wide to reveal a set of gleaming razor-sharp teeth. And then its face changed to that of a crone, with a long, hooked nose.
“Shifter,” it screamed. “Shifter with the wizards, you are doomed.”
Gideon waved a hand and the shrieking whistle softe
ned. “We have to get you out of here. I hoped we would have more time before your presence was discovered.”
Taking his arm, Gideon waved a hand. They dematerialized and then appeared inside Xavier’s condo. Xavier showed up a minute later.
“I warded the restaurant to protect Ella and the Skins inside. But I cannot ward the entire town against the dark magick. Too many Others would find out, and panic.” Xavier dropped into a chair and shoved a hand through his hair.
Kieran touched his ear and it came away with something warm and wet. Nausea churned as he examined his red-tipped finger. Few things could make him bleed like that. “What was it?”
“A harpy. There have been a few of them spying for the Dark Lord. His followers use them to track down Others who come here from the Fae world, or the Dark Kingdom because your powers are more pronounced. You’ve honed your magick more than Others on earth,” Gideon told him.
Others were permitted to use their magick without restraint in the Dark Kingdom and the Fae world. But here, they had to be constantly vigilant against Skins seeing them. Kieran studied the pair of wizards, who did not meet his gaze.
“This harpy knows what I am.”
“Not anymore.” Xavier blew on his index finger as if it were a smoking gun. “It’s dead.”
“That’s fine for that one. What if I run into another one?” he asked.
“They can sense your powers, see your aura shine more brightly than the auras of ordinary Others living here on earth. It found you because of us, Kieran. It cannot harm us, but the harpy can discover where we are, and who is with us.”
“Which is why we must leave you before another harpy discovers you,” Gideon said.
Fine? He would not be fine if he remained in Skin, vulnerable to cruel humans with guns and knives. But what choice did he have? If he abandoned this mission, Ella would have no one to guide her and watch over her.
That thought bothered him more than anything else.
Gideon placed a thick leather wallet on the coffee table, along with a checkbook. “You now have a bank account with a balance of one million dollars. I’ll add more as needed. Your wallet has some cash and several credit cards. You can purchase anything you need. A bus ticket to anywhere in the country.”
“How about a bus ticket home to the Winter Kingdom?” He looked hopefully at the wizard.
Gideon sighed. “That, my friend, will be available after Ella comes into her powers. If you still wish to return.”
Why would he not? But he didn’t want to ask, for he feared the answer. “That harpy back there―will others track me?”
“Not if you use your powers sparingly. The more magick you display, the clearer the aura becomes. Like a trail of bread crumbs leading back to you. You may shift here, on these grounds, for I warded the entire complex from evil and from anyone seeing magick,” Xavier told him.
Gideon clasped his arm again. “Good luck, my friend. Call upon me only in a grave emergency.”
“Meaning a dire one, and not when I am in the grave,” he quipped, needing levity to counter the dread raking over him like a cat’s claws. They were leaving him. Under ordinary circumstances, he would not mind.
But he was here in the Skin world, unable to much use his beast to protect Ella and himself.
As if reading his mind, Gideon tapped his forehead. “You have your wits, Kieran. They will serve you well, much as your beast does. You would not have been a royal bodyguard for centuries if not.”
“I’m counting on you,” Xavier told him. “Danu would not have sent you if she didn’t have faith you can complete this task.”
The wizards vanished before his eyes. Kieran shook his head, his ears still tingling with pain. He paced the living room, measuring out the space with his feet. To not shift into his jaguar form? His beast loved to roam at night, and nap on tree limbs. He felt restricted in this Skin suit, which was as stifling as armor when he knew he couldn’t risk letting his beast out.
Yet this home was safe for shifting. Well, it felt stifling in here. Perhaps he could open the door.
Fresh, cool air rushed inside. Drawing in a lungful of it, he stretched out his arms, closed his eyes and summoned his magick.
In the Winter Kingdom, shifting came as easily as snapping his Skin fingers. Here, he felt an itch and then a burning sensation. Kieran groaned as bones popped and lengthened. Slow, so damn slow!
He opened his mouth to scream from the pain and a roar tore from his throat.
Kieran closed his eyes. Opened them. Finally.
Luxurious, thick spotted fur covered his enormous, muscled body. He smelled the night air, so cold and sharp and crisp, heard the scuttle of creatures among the trees and bushes. Sensations overwhelmed him, his sharpened vision seeing the rushing river, the trees and blades of grass in exact detail, the small furry creatures scurrying away as if knowing a large predator had emerged.
It wasn’t the same as the Winter Kingdom, when he transformed to hunt, fight, or boredom forced him into his cat form.
No, this was actually better, making him feel more alive and free than the Skin suit.
Kieran pawed at the ground, eager to race over the grass. The man’s mind, still ruling over the beast, judged it was safe outside. Growling, he padded outside, jumped off the back porch and stalked alongside the silvery river. Nostrils flared as he scented a marmot hiding among the rocks. He was not hungry after eating that thick steak at the restaurant, but the predator inside urged him to investigate the territory. Learn the boundaries.
Kieran loped alongside the river to the edge of the forest where the complex’s property ended. He lifted his leg and sprayed his scent over a tree.
There. Any Other who chanced along, in cat or wolf form, would think twice about entering this complex.
Racing back to the condo, he stopped short, glancing up at the moon. A good few hours until he had to meet Ella at the dive bar. Enough time to rest.
He padded inside. Couldn’t risk napping in a tree, but he didn’t want to shift back and lie on a bed. This world was still too dangerous and risky.
Then, as if by a wizard’s magick, he spied a large, open cardboard box by the fireplace. It had not been there previously.
Kieran glanced upward, roared his thanks.
“You’re welcome,” a dry voice said.
That Xavier. At least he was a good host.
Grunting, he turned around and lay down in the cardboard box, and then closed his eyes.
6
In the moonlight, the Mountain Suds bar looked safe enough. Pacing the sidewalk, Kieran stared through the front window. The bar had a pine-paneled interior with two pool tables, and a long counter facing a mirror and glass shelves filled with liquor bottles. A few patrons sat at the counter, and a few more gathered at the tables and booths. They looked like regular Skins, clad in jeans. No rough and tumble bikers or hunter Skins. If they had guns, they were concealed. No rifles and no arrows like the kind that had felled Kiera.
He checked his own appearance. Xavier had left him an entire wardrobe. Tonight he wore faded jeans with brown leather hiking boots, and a red and black checked flannel shirt that felt soft against his tight skin. Kieran rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, letting the cool air touch his forearms.
After sleeping two hours in his cat suit, he felt confined in this human skin. Better get used to it.
Keeping an eye out for both Ella and the ugly crone-harpy he’d seen earlier, he paced. And then he smelled the delightful fragrance of crisp, sharp snowflakes and winter lilies.
Whirling, he greeted her. “Hello, Ella. Thank you for meeting me.”
His heart pounded as if he’d raced across a field, and his blood roared in his eardrums. She was so lovely, her dark hair spilling down her backside, her cheeks pink from the cool wind, her moss green eyes sparkling with life.
“It’s cold out here. Why didn’t you wait inside?” she asked.
“I didn’t want you going inside alone.” He held ou
t his arm. “Shall we?”
Ella gave him a shy smile. “You’re very gallant, Sir Kieran.”
Let’s hope you still feel the same way after I tell you what I really am, and who you are.
But he said nothing as he guided her over to a small corner table. Kieran knew he had only a few hours to make the best impression of his life.
No pressure. None at all.
It had been a most pleasant evening talking with Kieran. He had an intelligence she liked, and his knowledge of medieval history fascinated her. Even if his speech was a little stilted, he was polite and engaging.
And he made her laugh. When was the last time she’d laughed like this?
Too long.
When she’d questioned him about it, he’d given him a modest shrug and told her he was a student of ancient history.
Ella glanced at the clock, dismayed to discover it was nearly 2 a.m. Two hours they’d talked. She stifled a yawn, wishing she could stay longer. “I have to go and grab some shut-eye. I’m working the 10 a.m. shift at Harvey’s.”
He placed his palms flat on the wood table. “Who is this Harvey?”
The bristling jealousy in his voice amused her. “Harvey’s is Harvey’s Home, a non-profit organization that raises money to help the homeless. It was founded by Alice and Walter Harvey, friends of mine. They died a few years ago.”
Grief bit her. Alice and Walter had died a week after Walter delivered the eulogy for Ella’s father. Alice had been mild and modest. She’d avoided the limelight, letting her flamboyant husband get all the attention. Alice had been a good friend, always inquiring about Ella’s welfare, quietly slipping her food when money was tight.
She steeled her spine. Alice and Walter were dead and so was her father. All Ella could do was honor their memory by surviving and doing her best.
“Harvey’s Home is now run by their son, Ed Harvey. He’s a preacher, like his father. I stuff envelopes, type correspondence and file reports.”
“Oh.” Kieran smiled. “A job. Shall I pick you up at your office tomorrow for lunch?”
A little thrill raced through her. Then she sighed. “I only get a half hour for lunch and I have to run errands.”
