We lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Eventually he dropped into the chair. The arrant confidence muted; gentle gray eyes fixed on mine.
“What’s your plan?” he finally asked. Concern punctuated his words.
I shrugged. “I imagine the Veil is similar to here and people live in communities. I’ll go find some shifters and ask them to take me to their leader . . . or something like that.” I started chuckling at the shock that he quickly schooled off his face. “My plan is fluid and it’s not comforting to me either. I can plan all night and enter the Veil and everything might still fall apart.”
“Shifters have community homes, and if you find that, more than likely the Omega will be there. They’re typically there to help the pack and typically the most reasonable.”
For nearly an hour he went over information about shifters that I already knew. If there’s a forest, they’re more likely to be there. Don’t hold eye contact, it can be considered a challenge. Don’t wear silver, especially bracelets. Don’t conceal weapons, it’s considered hostile.
In silence I sat listening to a comically overly concerned Alpha reiterate basic information that most people knew. They weren’t shy about telling people what they found offensive. It seemed like something Asher needed to do. That it would bring him a level of comfort.
He was boring himself with the information because he suppressed two yawns. I stood after the second and stretched.
“Got it. The first shifter I see, I should punch him in the face to show dominance. Then whip out my concealed blade and show off my cool hand work.”
Asher’s scowl was a blend of amusement and frustration. I knelt down in front of him, breaking the first cardinal rule of dealing with shifters, and met his eyes and held his gaze. Something that took more effort than anyone should. I got submerged in the raw intensity of his eyes, equally captivating and repelling. An odd dichotomy.
“It’s the only option we have. I got this. This is not the first time I’ve entered unfamiliar areas and it won’t be the last. I’m still here.”
“You get hurt, often.”
“Every cut, bruise, and scar is a reminder I survived.” Standing, I stretched again, positive that I was going to have a restful sleep. “If you don’t want to drive home, you’re welcome to stay.”
“I’d like that,” he whispered, standing and heading for the opposite end of the apartment.
“Not in my bedroom! The sofa. I’ll get you a blanket or you can change and wolf it.”
“The sofa’s fine.” His disappointment was clear.
The next morning, I awoke to the smell of coffee and food. Inhaling the enticing aromas, I quickly brushed my teeth and showered. My shirts clung to me where I hadn’t efficiently dried off. I towel dried my hair and pulled it back in a ponytail and made my way to the small kitchen, where I was accustomed to smell food that had browned a little too much or stayed in the oven a little longer than recommended.
Today, the kitchen was filled with the robust smells of coffee, bacon, fruit, mushrooms, peppers, and onions. As of last night, I had only bacon and coffee.
“Did you go grocery shopping?” I asked Asher, pouring myself a cup of coffee. At some point, he’d showered and dressed in different clothes, probably the set of clothing that most shifters kept in their cars. I assumed, like me, he kept an overnight bag in his car.
“Sort of. I borrowed a few things from Ms. Harp. I’ve already called for someone to bring her more groceries.”
“She must like you if she opened the door for you.”
He shrugged. “We talk often and I had someone bring her groceries yesterday. I explained that while Ian’s around, I’d rather reduce her chances of running into him.”
“You think he can make her change?”
“No. I suspect he would try to force her into a change, but she can’t and it might do something to her body she might not survive.” With a heavy sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. “She’s such an anomaly I don’t know what to expect, but it’s better to consider the worst-case scenario. A shifter has never procreated with anyone and the baby not become a shifter. I don’t know how she is possible. I’m not ready to find out what would happen. I’d like to be careful with her.” There was concern in his voice. If her existence vexed him, it would vex anyone who found out about her, but they might not be as concerned with her safety and well-being.
He clenched his teeth and moved toward my door in quick, lithe movements. “I might care about her safety, but she doesn’t seem to have the same attitude.” He yanked open the door. “Ms. Harp, didn’t I ask you to call me if you were planning to leave?”
I moved ever so slightly, so I could watch what I was sure would be the unfolding of an amusing encounter. Asher was so used to people following his orders and Ms. Harp, who cared very little about anyone or anything, was cantankerous enough to tell him just that. She might like him but she didn’t care about his status as Alpha. She was going to do what she wanted.
“I decided not to. I need to go to the store.”
“Someone’s bringing you groceries. They should be here soon.”
“I need cream for my coffee.”
“Which flavor?” Asher asked, his voice tight but kind.
Huffing out a breath, she said, “I like my privacy and don’t care much for answering to anyone.”
“You’re not answering to me. I explained this to you several times. There’s a situation and it might adversely affect you. I just need you to be careful for a few more days.” He sighed. “Please.”
That could not have tasted good.
“Then you can go with me,” she chirped back in a compromise.
Asher craned his neck in my direction and gave me a withering look. One of Ms. Harp’s fists was pressed into her hip while the other held the cane. Rather, she had the cane hooked on her arm. I still wasn’t convinced she needed it.
“Give me a minute,” he said.
My new goal in life: Be Ms. Harp.
“Give me your keys, I’ll meet you in the car,” she told him.
“No, I’ll meet you in your apartment.” The command in his voice left no room for her to object and she was warring to do just that. She looked between her cane and him several times and I wondered if she was considering whacking him with it.
He ducked back into my apartment and gathered his phone and wallet. “I’ll watch a few episodes of Judge Judy with her and maybe she’ll forget about cream,” he said with a shake of his head.
I couldn’t figure out if he was more dismayed by Ms. Harp’s noncompliance or her desire for cream. It came to me why they preferred to keep things in the pack. There were rules and a chain of command. The Alpha tells you to be careful and call. You do it. There was a simplicity in it.
“She won’t.” I opened a lower cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Kahlua. “This is the cream she’s determined to get. Once I helped her bring in her groceries and noticed it next to her coffee pot. I suspect she enjoys her ‘cream’ with her coffee when she’s hanging out with Judy.”
He shook his head, blowing out a frustrated breath, then thanked me as he took the bottle from me. Before leaving, he hesitated for a long moment, his face indecipherable. Leaning into me, his lips pressed against my cheek in a feather-light touch that still managed to warm my skin.
“I’ll see you later today when you return from the Veil. Hopefully unscathed.”
Giving me a small appreciative smile, he left. My finger pressed against where his lips were. My life was getting too complicated.
CHAPTER 18
Mephisto’s face was impassive as he approached me. His dark expressionless eyes traced every inch of my face. When we were just inches apart, he dropped his eyes and a pained look flashed across his face. With great effort he brought his eyes back to mine before allowing them to drift over to the others. I turned to look at Cory, whose attention on me only wavered long enough to look at the others in the room. He probably wondered, as I did, why
they were there. I expected Madison and, of course, Cory and Mephisto. I hadn’t been expecting Kai, Simeon, and Clayton.
The powerful energy and unyielding confidence of people who possessed great magic and were even greater warriors filled the space. Cedar, smoke, waterfalls, and earth were a mélange of magical smells. It was different than being in a room with just witches, mages, fae, and shifters. But why wouldn’t it be, I thought. These people were wholly different, and my living room couldn’t hold the sheer volume of magic. Kai commanded the lion’s share of my intrigue; he reverberated with energy even when he wasn’t in motion. I dragged my eyes from him when he caught me staring for the third time.
“Do you think it’s a good idea for everyone to be here? Can you imagine the shifters coming through the Veil and seeing you all?”
“Have you any idea how unwise it would be to not have anyone here when you come back?” There was an unspoken if in Mephisto’s voice.
“If they agree to come with me, do you think they’re going to be hostile? Seeing you magical brutes is what’s going to make them hostile.”
Mephisto considered it for a while, creases of concern and apprehension forming on his face. He went over everything again, for me to guide myself through the Veil in the event he wasn’t able to help with navigation. It was like adding coordinates to a spell to change location. Simplistic in theory, harder in execution. But that was how it was with most magic. People thought that it was just spouting out spells, but it was the wrangling of it once it was in motion and directing it like steering a boat through turbulent waters.
“Are you afraid?” Mephisto asked in a voice for my ears only.
“Whether I am or not won’t really change things.”
“Do you at least have a plan?”
I shrugged. “It’s rather fluid at this point. I’m going to find a shifter and ask him to take me to their leader.” Similar to what I told Asher. I grinned. “Like any other alien.”
It wasn’t arrogance at the root of my response but the bravado and breezy confidence I needed to display to put everyone at ease. If I showed even a hint of fear, an iota of self-doubt, I’d leave Cory and Madison worrying or, worse, Cory reigniting his attempts to convince me not to go. So I donned an armor of overconfidence for their sake, but it didn’t chase away my own doubt. Madison was onboard but her unease was palpable. She had slipped into the background, observing the Others with a level of interest that mirrored mine. She’d fought with them, seen the Immortalis’s magic have no effect on them, and for some reason, they had now relaxed into their magic. Whatever they had been doing to mask or subdue it, they had abandoned.
Kai, Simeon, and Mephisto ignored her intense scrutiny; Clayton found it amusing. His eyes shone with a casual mischief each time their eyes met. His melodious laughter drifted throughout the room when she tore her eyes away, making more attempts at furtive glances.
“I’m okay with you looking,” he finally said. “I’m rather flattered by it.”
That’s definitely not a color she’d be happy about, I thought as rose tinted the bridge of her nose and cheeks. It gave her a look that she hated to be called: cute.
She mastered her expression into one of professional calm and fixed her eyes on me and Mephisto, which only earned her a chuckle from him.
Mephisto leaned even closer to me. “You are so authentically you,” he pronounced. What? Was I supposed to be someone else? “Quite interesting,” he said in a deep lazy drawl. “Be careful.”
With an audience, we attempted to make the exchange of magic clinical and impassive, but it was a daunting task. I was painfully aware that the Others were watching us, assessing our chemistry and connection, looking for evidence in support of their accusations of Mephisto being compromised when it came to me. I didn’t want to add fodder to the flames of their concerns. I had the same apprehension, confusion, and curiosity about us that they had.
We stepped apart and I whispered the words of power, just a few words, but they dragged and dragged, and I realized at the end that I was in front of Mephisto, swept up in the tapestry of his magic. It coursed through me, the gnawing need sated. His lips brushed lightly against mine. A wisp of a touch. At Cory clearing his throat, I attempted to step back, but Mephisto’s hands were at my waist.
“Be careful,” he repeated in a whisper.
“Nah, I think I’ll be reckless,” I shot back, wishing he knew how much I hated it when people said that tautology. Most people check the “be careful” box whenever possible.
“Erin,” he whispered. “So very Erin.”
I backed away even farther, evoked the spell to open the Veil, and looked over my shoulder once before entering. It was the look on the Others’ faces that gave me a moment of pause. Sadness? Worry? No, yearning.
This section of the Veil wasn’t picturesque like the places I’d seen on my first visit. Before, I was treated to a world where predators and prey lived in harmony, surrounded by lush forestry and vivid flowering trees, unaware of their hierarchal positions. Despite having spent only moments there, the memories stayed with me. I thought constantly of the vibrant sky and snowcapped mountains where winged people soared through the sky. The serenity was something I hoped to experience again.
This part of the Veil was not unlike what I could see if I drove just fifteen minutes from my apartment to the nearest subdivision, although it didn’t consist of the varying models of different trim, siding, and brick. Each home here had its own personality, and if I were to guess, I’d be able to tell which were the Felidae and Canidae homes. Interspersed between the houses were large stretches of forestry. The leaves were gold, brown, and orange, as expected for autumn, which it clearly was. I zipped my jacket and continued to walk.
There weren’t cerulean-blue skies, beautiful arboreta, breathtaking landscapes, or winged humans. Or any animals, living harmoniously or otherwise. I was supposed to be in the land of shifters and I hadn’t seen a single animal, period. I hadn’t seen anything. Had I done the spell wrong? If I had, I’d expect Mephisto to link in like he had before and guide me to a new area.
Warily, I passed another forest that at first glance seemed empty. I moved deeper into the thicket of trees, still wondering how it was possible that I hadn’t yet seen an animal. Beyond the Veil, I was used to seeing shifters in animal form strolling around as if it was normal for cheetahs, lions, cougars, dingoes, or others to be traipsing through the city. It was typical to see a human walk into a wooded area, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake, and moments later to catch sight of an animal sprinting through the woods. Or sitting in the park, a wolf or coyote might poke its head out from the trees to let you know it was there. They did it as a courtesy, but no matter how meekly they attempted to warn you of their presence, seeing an apex predator poke its head out was alarming. Plus, shifters didn’t really do meek, so it was even more off-putting.
I hadn’t gotten any of that here. A few cars passed by, heads turning and eyes regarding me with suspicion.
If I knew their politics here, it would make it easier. Did the shifters have a common retreat like the shifters at home? Were the buildings where they conducted their business taller than any in the area?
I decided to just knock on a door and see what happened; a modified version of “take me to your leader” seemed to be the way to go. Then an eagle flew close, its wing brushing the side of my head. It wasn’t until it landed a few feet away and made a “follow me” movement with its head, that I was sure the wing-brush was intentional.
As I inched cautiously toward the Harpy Eagle, it became obvious it was a shifter. There was the telltale human awareness combined with a predatory alertness that put you on edge, glints of gold in the eyes that let you know they straddled the worlds between human and animal.
Following the eagle farther, I realized that the woods were denser and larger than I’d thought. The eagle stopped in a patch crowded by more trees. A gray wolf trotted by. Then a reddish-gray wolf padded cl
oser to me. The jaguar advancing made me put my hand on my gun. I’d tried to follow shifter decorum and make sure none of my weapons were concealed: two guns and a knife were in plain sight.
Cloaked by the dense trees were two more wolves and another jaguar. Sounds of branches being broken and padding feet let me know there were more around me. Breathe. No fear.
I didn’t move and neither did they. The eagle flew at me, its talon bit into my skin, then it retreated. It did it again, only to retreat again. When it pecked at my shoulder, I went for my knife.
“Brayden,” a gentle but commanding voice spoke from behind me. At the mere sound of the cool, raspy voice, the eagle moved away and landed on the ground. Then it shuffled back several more paces from me.
Turning, I saw a tall woman, her jet-brown hair in a choppy short cut. A modern look on classic features. Intense emerald-colored eyes were set deep, and a slight flush of color swept along the cheeks of her fawn-colored skin. Her expression didn’t give anything away, causing me to remain still under her scrutiny.
“Change,” she demanded, keeping her eyes on me but directing her instruction to Brayden. The Harpy flew deeper into the forest. No one moved or said anything until minutes later a teenager emerged from the woods in an oversized t-shirt and leggings. Were they able to clothe themselves with shifter magic, or did they have clothes lying around the forest? I wished our shifters would extend such courtesies so we could stop seeing naked asses all the time.
If I’d seen Brayden in human form, I would have guessed a fox based on her vulpine features. Small, round, unusually flat black eyes, long brownish-red hair, and a long sharp nose gave her a dangerous cuteness.
“She smells,” she announced with indignation. “I don’t like it.” Then she shot me a look. “Or her.”
I tried to guess her age because I thought it was entirely appropriate to tell a child sixteen or older to fuck off when they were being rude. It wasn’t just teenage angst that made her insolent, it was her training wheels. In adulthood, when they were removed, I suspected she was going to be a terror.
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