Time Shift

by J. L. Weil

  The change in my demeanor surprised her. “W-what?” She faltered, her wings beating erratically. “No,” she said, clearing her throat. “I haven’t told anyone about you.”

  I grabbed the pixie without even thinking. “Tell me the truth!” I demanded. If she had been a part of the Silvermyst tracking me down, I wouldn’t let her go until I got what I wanted—answers. I could no longer afford to play nice. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And I was past desperate.

  Being away from my family was wearing on me, as was the constantly ticking time bomb on Mom’s life.

  Belle wasn’t fond of being bullied. The little tart bit down on my finger, drawing blood.

  “Ouch,” I hissed, squeezing my hand tighter before she tried to escape. Not happening. “That’s the second time you’ve bitten me. Do it again, and you’ll lose more than your wings.” She was a temperamental fae, her cuteness and clumsiness deceiving.

  She stopped wiggling in my hand and stared up at me. “The Shaman is rubbing off on you. The Karina from a year ago would have never threatened me.”

  A tinge of sadness had my lips frowning. “True. She wouldn’t have, but I was forced to change the moment faes started hunting me.”

  “Sadly accurate. The shift changes the soul. Your animal instincts kick in and grow with each shift. Be warned, Karina of Katsura, the longer you stay in your fox skin during a shift, the stronger the fox urges become.”

  I lifted her so she was leveled with my face. “What else do you know? Devyn tells me you can see the future. Tell me what you have seen.”

  She shook her head. A glimmer of what could be construed as sadness flashed in her eyes. “Is that wise?”

  I gave her a glare.

  The pixie sighed. “Always the same. No one ever listens. Human or fae. They all want to know. It is not my place to advise you on the future, but I can tell you that with each power gained you will lose a part of your human soul.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows together. “I will become more fae?”

  She nodded vigorously—her movements always so animated for something so tiny. “Even more so when you step foot inside the boundaries of the Second Moon. There is no escaping your destiny, only embracing it.”

  What did she think I had been doing for the last few months? “Do you know how I can get the tails I need?”

  A thoughtful expression crossed her face, but she quickly masked it. “He’s coming,” she squealed, squirming in my hand like a deranged mouse. “Quick! Release me before he sees me.”

  I didn’t understand her sudden panic. “What’s the big deal? It’s just Devyn. And he knows you’re here now.”

  “The Shaman and I have crossed paths before. He won’t be happy to see me. Please.” She twisted more fiercely, pushing with both her hands against my fingers.

  Tingles skated over the back of my neck as Devyn stepped outside. His obsidian hair was damp, causing the ends to curl. For a brief moment, I became encompassed by his presence as he consumed me. The playful smile on his lips fell, and his bright green eyes hardened as they landed on the pixie.

  Shit got a little chaotic.

  While I drooled over Devyn—because the Shaman had an annoying habit of making me forget the world—my grip on the pixie had gone lax. The little devil got free, fluttering haphazardly in the air like she was on crack. I flung out my hand, trying to grab ahold of her, only to come away with nothing but air.

  “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes,” Devyn mumbled, shaking his head.

  It wasn’t like I asked for trouble. It just found me.

  Devyn snatched Belle out of midair like Mr. Miyagi from Karate Kid catching a fly with chopsticks. “Let’s see you try to escape from me.” His brows rose as he met Belle’s gaze in an epic fae stare down. “And before you think about taking a bite out of my hand, I’ll remind you—I bite back.”

  Belle shuddered. “Shamans are the worst.”

  I crossed my arms. “So I take it you two don’t get along? Why am I not surprised?”

  Belle snorted. “Does he ever play nice with anyone?”

  “Actually …” I started.

  “You don’t count,” she barked at me. “You’re his—” Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by Devyn’s stern expression.

  “I’m his what?” I prompted, crossing my arms.

  “Charge,” she replied, but every bone in my body told me that wasn’t what she was going to say.

  “It’s cold. Let’s take this reunion inside,” Devyn growled.

  I shot him a suspicious look. What did he have up his sleeve?

  Jutting out my chin, I stayed in place. “I’m not cold. I think I’ll stay right here, thank you very much.”

  “It wasn’t an invitation,” he fired back, and without waiting for another snappy response, he strode across the deck and held the door open, waiting for me.

  Would my life always be this unusual?

  I walked through the door, wondering what trouble I had gotten into now. A tense moment passed as we moved into the kitchen, and Devyn finally looked at me. Some of the hardness left his icy gaze, but he still didn’t look thrilled. “What have you seen?” he asked Belle, in a surly tone.

  The pixie was even less willing to give Devyn information than she had been with me. “My visions are mine. They aren’t meant to be shared,” she said, remaining firm.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass. Is your life worth it? Because you know, pixie, I will kill you,” Devyn threatened, his eyes going dark.

  “Destiny will never see this through. You will fail; it’s written in the stones.”

  “But the future can be altered,” Devyn challenged, unable to accept we might not succeed.

  A grin that wasn’t at all sweet curled her cotton candy pink lips. “So he’s pretty and clever,” she said while eying Devyn. “In some instances it can be changed, but not all. You must obey the laws, or have you forgotten, Sin Eater?”

  “I have not. My duty to Karina is all that matters. And in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not on the Second Moon, pixie.”

  She giggled. “Oh, your loyalty to the Kitsune is not in question. I’ve seen how devoted you are. You have an unbreakable bond to her that goes deeper than any Shaman before you.”

  What does she mean?

  The cryptic messages only Devyn understood were wearing on me. So he had feelings for me, big deal. “What do you mean by ‘destiny won’t see this through’?” Stabbing fear overcame me. Am I doing this all for nothing?

  Devyn’s jaw worked. “Karina, you can’t listen to her. Nothing she sees is absolute. There is always hope.”

  “He is right, as much as I hate to admit it. I have seen you fail, but I’ve also seen you crowned.”

  “But you said—”

  “There are matters in play other than you saving Katsura. Every decision you make shifts the future.”

  What else could there be? Saving a world seemed pretty damn high on the priority list.

  “I’ve seen our world crumble. I’ve seen it in ruins, destroyed and ruled by a man whose heart is filled with greed and hunger.” Her tone suggested there was no hope.

  Devyn squeezed his fingers around the pixie, and she yelped, attempting to wiggle out of his hold, but the Shaman had passed reason. “You will assist us, or so help me …” The unfinished threat dangled in the air.

  I placed a hand on his arm. “Devyn, hurting her isn’t going to give us answers. She’s right though, we’re wasting time when we should be figuring out how I’m going to get my next tail.”

  “Useless pixie,” Devyn grumbled.

  Belle stuck out her chin. “Oomph. I have nothing left to offer you, other than you’re wasting precious time. Now let me go.”

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Until I figure out who is feeding information about Karina to Talin and Ryker, no one goes anywhere,” he said with dark conviction.

  “How dare you kidnap me,” Belle said in her high
voice. Her little cheeks flamed red, but it was hard to take her seriously.

  “We’re kidnapping her?” I squeaked, her words finally penetrating my brain.

  Devyn’s sinister scowl grew. “It’s better than the alternative.”

  Did he mean killing her? I wasn’t sure Belle deserved the death penalty. Did the Second Moon not believe in innocent until proven guilty? “Well, what are we going to do with her now?”

  He held up his hand, staring at the pouting pixie. “Make sure she doesn’t give us anymore trouble.”

  I rolled my eyes. We weren’t even sure she had given us any trouble, but there was no reasoning with the Shaman when he was like this. “Looks like we have a new roommate.”

  A grin parted his lips. “I’m thinking more like a new pet.”

  Belle stuck out her tongue, spitting in his face. “I’m no one’s pet, Sin Eater.”

  With the back of his free hand, Devyn wiped it across his face, removing the traces of her pixie saliva. “If you behave, we might eventually let you out of the cage.”

  Her violet eyes grew huge. “Cage? What cage?”

  “He’s joking,” I assured Belle. The Shaman wasn’t a monster.

  But it turned out Devyn wasn’t joking.

  He held up a large clear cookie jar and dropped a hand towel at the bottom followed by the pixie herself. She didn’t go willingly, sticking her arms and legs out like a floating spider.

  “You’re kidding me. We can’t keep her in that!” I argued, my hands on my hips, staring at Devyn as if he’d lost his freaking mind.

  “We can. And we will, for the time being,” Devyn rumbled. “Now, stop fighting before you break a limb,” he told the pixie.

  She fluttered in the jar and landed with an oomph. “I told you he was a monster,” Belle sulked, sitting in the center of the container, her wings sagging.

  Devyn stalked out of the room.

  “Let me talk to him,” I whispered, bending down to peer through the glass. “He’s had a bad night.”

  “He’s had a bad night? What about me? I’m stuck in a cookie jar with a cracked top for an air hole.”

  She had a point. “So I guess you don’t want a cookie?” I asked, plucking one out from the groceries we’d bought.

  “Chocolate chip?” Her droopy face perked up just a bit.

  I nodded. “They’re my favorite.”

  “Me too. Can you microwave it for a few seconds? I like them warm and gooey.”

  I smiled. “You got it.”

  “Stop feeding the pixie!” Devyn yelled from the other room.

  “Geez. What is she going to do? Multiply if I feed her after midnight like a gremlin?” I muttered.

  Living with a pixie was worse than having a dog or babysitting an annoying little sister. Belle was a two-year-old terror on crack. I was ready to pull my hair out. She needed constant attention and supervision. For the last twenty-four hours, I hadn’t gotten a moment of peace. Devyn was at his wit’s end, and I was afraid if I left them alone, he’d strangle the pixie to death.

  I gave her one more hour before Devyn killed the little shit.

  The only thing keeping her from a violent death was me.

  And I wasn’t sure why I protected her.

  She had deceived me. She could be the one who led the Silvermyst to me and more could be on their way, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  By the second day, the three of us were going stir crazy. I had to do something.

  Belle was prattling on as usual, singing in her little glass jar as she fluttered about. Devyn growled like a bear on the couch, occasionally shooting Belle daggers of murder with his eyes. I leaned down on the kitchen counter, peering inside at her. “Is that Will Smith you’re singing?” I asked, finding it weird she was rapping. If she bust out a Tupac song, I might lose my mind.

  “Gettin’ jiggy wit it,” she sang, not acknowledging me at first, but the pixie craved attention, so it didn’t take long for her to give in. “I have to do something to entertain myself.”

  “How about the quiet game?” Devyn suggested from the other room.

  “So you like hip-hop music?” I asked, ignoring Devyn.

  She nodded, her feet touching the bottom of the glass. “I like all music, but this one seems to thoroughly annoy the Shaman.” A glint of mischief lit her eyes.

  I should have guessed. “Okay, I’ve had enough,” I announced, my voice booming through the open room. “This is stupid. The two of you need to make amends if we’re going to be stuck in this house together, and the way to do that is by letting you out of your glass prison.”

  “Whoopee.” Belle did a backflip in the small space of her confinement.

  Devyn jumped over the back of the couch and came barreling into the room. “Don’t you—”

  Too late.

  Chapter Eight

  Belle darted out of the jar, zooming past my face and around the kitchen like the Tasmanian Devil, a trail of glittery dust in her wake. Devyn stood over me, a dark expression shadowing his face.

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” he growled.

  I thought it was pretty obvious, but if he needed me to spell it out for him … “I released the prisoner,” I said guiltily.

  “She might be the key to figuring out how to get your powers.” His brooding mask cracked a little as he glanced at me.

  Didn’t he know I had thought of that? “How long could we possibly keep her locked up for? It is inhumane. And who’s to say she won’t help us if we ask nicely?”

  Devyn snorted.

  “Nice isn’t in his genetic makeup,” Belle said from her perch on top of the refrigerator. The comment was punctuated with a giggle.

  “Keep talking. When I get my hands on you—”

  I put a hand on Devyn’s chest, bringing his focus to me. “This isn’t helping.”

  The Shaman’s gaze honed in on the pixie. “Then what do you suggest?”

  This was a start. I’d take it. “Well, maybe we could give working together a shot.”

  “And no more cages,” Belle added. She paced on top of the stainless steel refrigerator. Her little slippers kicked dust up as she marched.

  “No more cages,” I emphasized, catching Devyn’s eye. “I thought maybe you and I could do some more combat training. I have a feeling things are going to get nasty.”

  “That is one thing we can agree on,” he muttered.

  “True dat,” Belle said.

  Look at that. The three of us in agreement. Someone take a video; it might be the last time in the next century it happened.

  Devyn was equally a kick-ass warrior and ninja. Clearly by the way he moved, he was one of the best—that and Belle constantly razzed him about not living up to his reputation. If I weren’t trying to keep from getting sliced, I would have been in awe of him. He had grace, unlike my choppy, pathetic movements, but I was getting much better.

  Our blades clashed together, the sound of metal crashing echoed in the room. Wrath and Fury seemed to enjoy the sparring as much as we did. After being pent up in the house, it felt amazing to put the energy bouncing inside me to good use.

  Belle sat on the kitchen island, cross-legged, munching on a bowl of cereal that was big enough for her to swim in. She tossed a Froot Loop at Devyn, hitting him in the side of the head. “What was that? I thought you were supposed to be one of the best Shamans to come out of Thornland,” she said to him, looking unimpressed by his reflexes.

  His hand moved behind his head, landing on the hilt of a sword that had appeared out of thin air. “Remind me again why I can’t kill her.”

  I coughed, trying to hide a smile. “She’s cute. And you said it yourself, she has information we could use.”

  Several dark strands of hair fell across his forehead as he relaxed his hand to his side. “Right. Keep reminding me of that at least once every ten minutes.”


  I rolled my eyes. “Are we going to stare at the pixie all day, or are you going to give me one of those blades?”

  A quick smirk appeared on his lips, and he crooked his finger at me. “Bring it, Kitten. You have a lot of catching up to do. We need you to survive, and with three tails, the stakes are getting higher. They will be gunning for you now. So no holding back.”

  I returned his smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Now we’re talking,” Belle said, crunching on a nibble of cereal. “Fight. Fight. Fight.”

  Devyn drew Wrath and Fury, flipping one around so the handle was extended for me to take. I did so with eagerness. There was something compelling about wielding the magical weapons, or maybe it was because they belonged to Devyn.

  He shoved a few pieces of furniture out of the way to make room. “Oh, and no Kistune powers. Just straight combat.”

  “Afraid to get burned?” I challenged him.

  “Exactly.”

  Truth be told, if I accidently hurt Devyn, I would never forgive myself. It would crush me, and more or less be shooting myself in the foot. I needed him.

  We continued to practice, working on footwork, control of the blade, and anticipating the target’s maneuvers—that was one of my weaknesses. I spent too much time on what my hands and feet were doing. But I was determined, at least one time in my life, to get the jump on Devyn. Lifting the blade in the air, I brought it down in a clean sweep, expecting to meet its other half in the Shaman’s grasp.

  Instead, Devyn’s hand caught my wrist in the air, and Wrath moved with lightning speed, curling its body so he joined my arm to Devyn’s. My chest rose and fell in quick succession from the exertion of the fight, but who was I kidding? It was all Devyn making me pant. His body pressed up against mine. His bright green eyes locked on my lips. A million tiny tingles shot from our joined hands. His fingers tightened their grip as he smiled, but suddenly the wicked gleam in his eyes turned toward a whitish glow that had formed where he held my wrist. Growing larger and larger, the orb floated away from the sword and was soon encompassed by a blue globe—a sphere within a sphere.