by Zoe Chant
“I don't know whether that's incredibly sweet or incredibly creepy.” Connie sighed, and started to flick through hangers. “But I can't deny that it's convenient. I notice, by the way, that you mainly appear to have been reminded of me by lingerie.”
“What can I say?” Chase grinned unrepentantly at her. “I'm an optimist.”
“Chase, people who buy lottery tickets are optimists,” Connie retorted as she selected a leaf-green, silk summer dress that perfectly matched the shade of her eyes. “People who go around acting as if they've already won the lottery are delusional.”
Chase started getting dressed himself. “What about people who've won the lottery, but then drop the ticket, so they end up walking around backward peering at the ground, and everyone thinks they're crazy, but actually they're just taking entirely logical steps to try to recover what they lost?”
“Trust you to run away with a metaphor,” Connie muttered from the depths of the dress. “You know, your big secret doesn't actually explain very much. Just because you turn into a big winged horse sometimes doesn't explain why you're so… you.”
Chase paused in doing up his jeans.
Then he smacked himself on the forehead. “I'm a complete idiot. I forgot to tell you the most important part. The bit that explains everything.”
Connie turned to face him, putting her hands on her hips. “Now this, I've got to hear.”
Chase briefly wondered whether to suggest that they went up to his rooftop rose garden, for a more romantic setting. His closet had not been the backdrop he'd pictured for the most important conversation of his life.
He settled for going down on one knee instead. “Connie—”
Connie hid both her hands behind her back. “If you propose again, I swear to God I will hit you.”
“This isn't another proposal. This is the reason for all the proposals. The reason I've been mad about you ever since I first saw you.” Chase took a deep breath, looking earnestly up at her wary face. “All shifters have a mate. Just one single person, in all the world, who's their perfect partner. You're my mate, Connie. I knew it the instant we first met. And from that moment on, I've only had eyes for you. You're the only one for me, and you always will be.”
Connie looked down at him, her expression completely unreadable, for a long, long moment that seemed to stretch into eternity.
Then, “Do you think I’m a complete idiot?” Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the closet.
“Wait!” Chase scrambled to his feet.
That didn't go quite the way I thought it would.
He caught up with her halfway across his bedroom, seizing her arm to stop her in her tracks. “I know it might sound unbelievable to you, but—”
“It might sound unbelievable?” Connie whirled on him, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glittering with barely-restrained tears. “Of course it sounds unbelievable! There's some mystic force which bound you to me the instant you saw me, huh? I'm the one person in all the world for you, am I? Well, that completely explains everything. Except for the fact that you cheated on me!”
“As I keep trying to explain to you, I didn’t!” Chase held onto her wrist. She wasn’t getting away from him this time. “Connie, I swear, I did not cheat on you. I know what it looked like, but I would never cheat on you.”
“Liar,” Connie snarled.
“I’m telling the truth! I don’t remember anything from that night, apart from going to the club and having one drink. I don’t know what happened after that.”
“Oh, come on. We both know what happened,” Connie snapped. “You got blind, stinking drunk, and couldn’t resist a pair of pretty girls. You’ve always been a playboy, and you always will be. I was stupid to think that you’d ever change.”
“I’m telling you, you’re my mate! It’s physically impossible for me to have cheated on you!”
Chase had spent years trying to work out what had actually happened that night, but had drawn a complete blank. The women had sworn that he’d picked them up and had sex with them, but he knew, knew that they had to have been lying. There was no way he could have done that, no matter how drunk he’d been.
He fumbled for excuses, knowing that they sounded weak even as he said them. “Maybe they were trying to blackmail me, or, or it was some sort of prank, or—Killian!”
“Your cousin?” Connie blinked. “Are you seriously trying to blame everything on your cousin?”
“No, of course not. I mean, he's here!” Chase pulled her toward the door that led to the rooftop garden, his heart rising again. “He said he'd come visit, but I didn't think it would be this soon. This is great!”
If anyone could help fix the mess he'd made, it was his cousin.
Chase took the stairs two at a time, hauling Connie in his wake despite her spluttered protests. His pegasus's special ability to sense people told him that Killian was spiraling in toward the landing area. Chase burst out onto the rooftop garden just in time to see his cousin's hooves settling onto the grass.
“Killian!” Chase waved frantically with his free arm. “Excellent timing! Tell Connie I'm not lying about being fated mates!”
Connie stared at him as if he'd gone mad. So did Killian.
“Chase,” Connie said, not even glancing at the enormous winged horse occupying a large part of the lawn. “There's no one here.”
Of course, she can't see him.
Killian was still in pegasus form, his stormcloud-gray wings half-open as if he was wondering whether to take off again. *I'm sorry,* he psychically sent to Chase. *Have I arrived at a bad time?*
“No, this is perfect,” Chase replied out loud, so as not to exclude Connie from the conversation. “Go ahead and shift. It's okay, Connie knows everything now. I had to shift to save her life. That's allowed by the law, right?”
Killian let out a snort that morphed into a deep groan as he shifted back into human form. “Trust you to find a loophole.”
Connie yelped, jumping backward as—from her perspective—Killian materialized out of thin air.
“Connie.” Killian held out his hand to her, flashing a quick smile. “It's nice to see you again. I am very sorry to have to interrupt you on what I understand has been a very traumatic day, but I needed to check that my fool cousin was all right after the crash.”
Chase cocked his head to one side. “How did you know about that so fast?”
“You know I always keep a close eye on you. It's why you're still flying around despite years of flinging yourself enthusiastically into every disaster you can find.” Despite his dry words, Killian's gray eyes were concerned as he looked Chase up and down. “Are you in one piece? Not many shifters go wingtip-to-wingtip with a wyvern and live to tell the tale.”
Connie, who had been looking back and forth between them like a spectator at a very mysterious tennis game, flinched at his words. “So it really was a wyvern that attacked my plane?”
Killian nodded gravely. “I haven't had much time to look into the matter, but in the past I've heard rumors that there's a wyvern shifter who works for criminal organizations. From what I know of your situation, I strongly suspect Sammy Smiles was behind the attack.”
“How would Sammy Smiles know a wyvern?” Connie asked, sounding lost.
“I didn't have time to tell you before, but Sammy Smiles is a shifter too,” Chase told Connie. He hated to drop all this on her at once, but he knew she was tough. “He's a shark. The Parliament of Shifters—that's a sort of government for our kind—has a tough time controlling sea-based shifters. Sammy's got a whole criminal gang made up of sharks and the like.”
“Oh,” Connie said. He could practically see her mind racing as she digested this new information. “My plane… it's in the sea. If he can turn into a shark, that means he'll be able to find it, right?”
“Yes, but we're going to get there first,” Chase said confidently. “I contacted a friend while I was carrying you back to land. He's already on his way to your plane, and
he'll keep it safe. No shark will get past him.”
Killian shot him a curious look, but didn't ask for details. “I haven't been able to locate Sammy Smiles yet, I'm afraid. I've never met him, nor met anyone who has, so my pegasus can't track him.”
“Mine can.” Chase bared his teeth in a feral smile. “And I'm going to pay him a little visit.”
Killian sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that. I suppose there's absolutely nothing I can say to dissuade you.”
“Nothing whatsoever,” Chase agreed cheerfully.
Killian sighed again. “Then I'll stand guard over your mate while you do so. I'm assuming even you aren't daft enough to take her with you on a trip down a shark's gullet.”
“I'm not his mate,” Connie said sharply.
“Ah.” Killian's eyes flicked from her to Chase and back again. “Connie, my idiot cousin has a remarkable ability to stuff all four hooves down his own throat when he’s trying to explain himself. Perhaps I could be of assistance? I would be happy to answer any questions you have about shifters in general. Or, indeed, Chase in particular.”
*You are only going to tell her good things about me, right?* Chase sent anxiously to him.
*Do you want the conversation to last more than thirty seconds?* Killian sent back acerbically.
Connie considered Killian, her expression warming a little. “Yes. Thank you, I would like that.”
Killian turned back to Chase. “Connie and I will be fine here. I'll sense if the wyvern approaches again, and get her to safety. Are you ready to go see Sammy now?”
“Not yet.” Chase clapped his hands together decisively. “First, we all have to go to the pub.”
Chapter 11
Connie stared up at the full moon painted on the dusty sign outside the old, whitewashed building. “When he said we were going to the pub,” she muttered to Killian, “I thought he was joking.”
“So did I.” Chase's cousin let out a long-suffering sigh as he held the oak door open for her. “I really should know better by now.”
They followed Chase into the pub. Connie was startled by how cozy and clean it was inside, a stark contrast to the grimy, forbidding exterior. Even though it was only early evening, the pub was well-populated by a mixed crowd, lounging at the polished bar or relaxing in mismatched antique chairs.
A general cry of “Chase!” went up as soon as he showed his face. Chase dispensed cheery waves and a few words of greeting as they cut through the crowd.
“I take it you're a regular,” Connie said to him.
Privately, she was a little surprised. She would have thought Chase would favor the sort of sleazy gambling dens that her father liked to frequent. But this pub was clearly intended for socializing, rather than hardcore drinking and shady deals.
“The Full Moon is the local shifter hangout,” Chase said. “At least, it's the respectable shifter hangout. Rose makes sure everyone behaves themselves. Right, Rose?”
“That's right,” the curvy, kind-eyed woman behind the bar agreed amiably.
Personally, Connie had never seen anyone less intimidating in her life. But for all she knew, Rose could turn into a bear or a tiger or who-knew-what. She still could barely believe that there was an entire society of shifters that she'd never even suspected existed.
“Connie, Killian, this is Rose Swanmay,” Chase introduced them. “She runs this place. Rose, this is my cousin Killian, down from London. And this is Connie. You don't need me to tell you who she is.”
Rose smiled at Killian, then did a double-take at Connie. “Your mate!”
Chase shot Connie a See? I told you so sort of smirk. She rolled her eyes at him.
“It's lovely to meet you, Connie.” Rose looked thoughtful for a moment. “Just to check… you do know he's a shifter, don't you?”
“Yes,” Connie replied. “And just to clarify, I am not his mate.”
“Well, actually, I'm afraid you are,” Rose said, her soft lips quirking. “Congratulations, and condolences. I'll always have a free drink and a sympathetic ear ready for you.”
“Hey!” Chase protested. “I'm not that bad.”
“Yes, you are,” Killian muttered.
“The boys are upstairs waiting for you,” Rose said to Chase. “Not that you need me to tell you that. Shall I get you the usual?”
Chase shook his head. “I'm just dropping by. Thanks, Rose.”
“Why are we here, Chase?” Killian asked, as they followed Chase to the back of the pub.
“Because I need to meet with some people,” he replied, leading them up a narrow flight of stairs. “And I wanted you to meet them, too.”
Chase opened a door, revealing a small private room. Four people were seated around a small circular table. Connie recognized Commander Ash, but she didn't know the other three.
“Connie, Killian, this is my fire crew,” Chase said, beaming. Then he frowned. “Or at least, some of my fire crew. Commander, where's Griff?”
“I am afraid he is indisposed,” said Commander Ash, rising to his feet. “The usual problem. He sends his apologies. Ms. West, I am pleased to meet you again in, ah, better circumstances.”
“Likewise,” Connie muttered, unable to help blushing as she remembered their first meeting.
At least I'm wearing clothes this time.
At Ash's gesture, she seated herself gingerly on a free chair. Besides Ash, there were two other men and one woman present. Connie lifted her chin, forcing down a wave of self-consciousness as she met their stares.
Commander Ash was as coolly unreadable as the last time Connie had met him, but a muscular, red-headed man was openly curious. The curvy black woman snuggled under the red-head’s arm caught Connie's eye and gave her a conspiratorial wink. In contrast, a young, handsome man with bleached white hair and pale blue eyes was scowling at Connie as if she'd personally offended him somehow.
“Griff's sick again?” Chase frowned as he plopped down onto a chair next to her. “Damn. I could really use his talent. Hugh, can't you do anything to help him?”
“If I could, don't you think I would have already?” the white-haired man snapped. He rubbed his forehead as if he had a migraine. “I can't heal everything.”
Commander Ash raised one hand. “Before we go any further, there is something I must clarify first. Ms. West, are you aware that Chase is a shifter?”
“Yes, of course,” Connie replied, frowning. “Why do people keep asking me that?”
“Truly, it is a mystery.” Chase looked across at the red-haired man, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “Any ideas, Dai?”
Dai's ears turned nearly as red as his hair. He appeared to find something intensely interesting about the ceiling.
The woman next to him laughed. “It's one of those annoying in-jokes,” she explained to Connie. Her accent marked her as a fellow American, making Connie feel a little less out of place. “When I met the crew, there were… a few misunderstandings.” She held out her hand. “Virginia Drake. I'm Dai's mate.”
“See!” Chase exclaimed triumphantly, as Connie shook Virginia's hand. “Independent evidence, right before your eyes! Mates do exist!”
“And apparently Chase is managing to make even more of a mess of things than I did,” Dai murmured. He had a pleasant, deep voice with a lilting Welsh accent. “I'm not sure whether to be comforted or alarmed.”
“Personally, I'm past alarmed, and well into terrified,” Killian said dryly.
Ash leaned forward a little, the slight movement instantly silencing the banter. “Secondly. Are you aware that we are all—Virginia excepted—shifters as well?”
Connie shook her head, but she wasn't actually surprised. Even though the three men didn't look anything like each other—Dai huge and muscular, Hugh lean and elegant, Ash contained and controlled—there was something similar about them. On some deep, instinctive level, she could sense the power that they possessed.
She cast a sideways look at Chase, realizing that he to
o had that indefinable feral aura. Killian did as well, though to a lesser extent.
“Let me introduce you both to everyone.” Chase waved a hand at Ash. “For those who haven't met him yet, I present Fire Commander Ash. He's the Phoenix, and yes, that's 'the', not 'a'. There's only ever one. “
Killian looked at Ash with awe, and a touch of wariness. “It's an honor, sir.”
“He's kind of a big deal in the shifter community,” Chase informed Connie, as though this wasn't obvious. “Oh, also, he can burn anything, and I mean anything. A slightly odd trait for a firefighter, if you ask me, but it's surprisingly handy.”
Moving on, Chase pointed in the direction of the handsome white-haired man in the corner. “Hugh here is our paramedic, and a puzzle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in an incredibly cranky attitude. Please question him repeatedly and persistently about what sort of shifter he is, because he says if I ask him one more time, he'll never heal me again.”
Hugh leaned away from Chase's finger, his pained scowl deepening. “I am really looking forward to the next time you crash and break a bone.”
Chase ignored this. He waved his hand at the huge red-headed man. “And this is Daifydd Drake, but everyone calls him Dai because Welsh names are ridiculous, and I say that even as an Irishman. He's a red dragon—don't worry, he's a nice dragon, not like the one who attacked your plane, Connie. He's fireproof, which is a very useful thing for a firefighter to be, obviously. And next to him is Virginia, his lovely mate who isn't a firefighter or a shifter but who is extremely perceptive and clever and who incidentally I hope is only going to tell you good things about me.”
There was a moment of silence.
“And if you were able to follow all of that,” Dai said ruefully to Connie, “then you really must be his mate.”
