The Falcon's Full House

by Candace Colt

  Ian and Bridget clicked. Were they an item?

  "Can I start your drinks?" Bridget asked.

  "You have a stout? Preferably tap and not in a bottle?" Rachel asked.

  "Sure do. Ian?"

  "Same here." He turned to Rachel. "I'm ordering dinner. I haven't had a good meal all day. They make the best burgers in town. Interested? My treat."

  "Yes, please. Medium rare and everything you have back there on it," Rachel said.

  "My kind of woman," Bridget said. "Now, our medium rare burgers are red inside. Will this work for you?"

  Though she no longer hunted for prey, Rachel salivated at the thought of juicy, nearly raw meat. "Perfect."

  After Bridget brought their beer, Ian raised his glass and started a toast.

  "Uh, no. Let me," Rachel interrupted. "Thank you for a fun night, dinner, and to

  what I hope will be a great friendship."

  Ian nodded. "Thank you, as well."

  Their gaze held a bit longer than was comfortable for Rachel. She looked away

  first, and scanned the Howler's crowd.

  With all the wood paneling and leather seating, the Poisoned Apple was a cool place, but this was more to her liking. The kind of bar where she and her posse frequented. Impressive cast of characters in here for sure. A lot of locals, so a lot of supernaturals.

  "Ian, you recognize any of these people?"

  He laughed. "Most. Why?"

  "You said before you knew who was human and who wasn't. I'm not sure if it's okay to ask—"

  Suddenly, his countenance clouded. "Stop there. I know where you're going. It is not our way to out one another. I told you about the gargoyle and about what I was, but it was my choice. If someone wants to tell you, it's their business."

  Embarrassment pricked her heart. She should know better than to even hint at the question. Miami's falcon shifter population extended all over Dade County and by necessity, they kept their identity secret. The public had no idea how wide their influence reached. In fact, if her father won the election, there would be at least one in the US Congress.

  "I understand," she said.

  Bridget brought their plates and Rachel's total focus landed on the huge burger and serving of hot fries.

  "Excuse me in advance, but once I start chowing down, I might be a poor conversationalist," Rachel said.

  Ian's countenance remained rock hard. "No worry on my part."

  Half-way through her meal, Rachel realized neither had spoken.

  "I upset you, didn't I?" She asked.

  "At first." He caught her eye. "I'm over it."

  "There's so much to learn about Nocturne Falls. It's all new to me and nothing like where I grew up, or anything I've seen in Europe. How long did it take for you to get used to living here?"

  "A while. Most was learning who to trust. It still isn't easy. Almost everyone here has a good heart. But there are a few bad eggs, just as anywhere."

  "So, I should never let my guard down?"

  He didn't answer.

  Bridget returned to collect their empty plates and offer dessert. Rachel declined but Ian ordered a plate of fresh fruit.

  After dinner, Rachel waited by the car while Ian paid the bill. A crescent moon had appeared in the Eastern sky. There was a slight coolness in the air, but not uncomfortable. A perfect night to fly back to the Ford estate, except for the fact she drove the Jag and had promised to take Ian home. Solange might not appreciate her car being left in town overnight.

  Ian joined her. "If you don't mind, I'll walk home. All you have to do is take this street and make a left at the light. Then it's a straight shot to Wolf Creek."

  The official brush off. It wasn't as if she was trying to hit on him, or even was on a romantic date with him. Even so, her ego whined a little.

  He'd stuffed his hands into his front jeans pockets. Even in the parking lot light, she saw him shivering. It wasn't cold. She hoped he was feeling okay.

  "Your place can't be far out of the way," she said.

  "No. I'm sure. Come by the pub again when you can." He turned and

  walked away.

  "Thanks for dinner," she called after him.

  He waved over his shoulder and put his hand back into his pocket.

  Her happy mood shed like fur.

  Fur? Hold it.

  She stared at the neon Howler's sign.

  Oh, for crying out loud. Right in front of her all the time. Clearly visible on the sign was a howling wolf.

  Bridget was a wolf shifter.

  Anywhere else, Rachel would never come near a wolf. A falcon might be a tasty snack for a hungry mutt, should the mutt be able to catch a falcon as fast as Rachel.

  But her gut told her Bridget fit into the category of someone she could trust. So did Ian. She needed to mend fences with him before it was too late.

  ~~~

  Ian grabbed two logs from the woodpile outside his cabin and tossed them into the

  fireplace. In minutes, he had a blazing fire, and warmth.

  Chilled to the bone, he should have accepted Rachel's offer to take him home. But his pride stood in the way. Her curiosity about the townspeople wasn't malicious, but he'd come down on her as though it was.

  Her silence through dinner gave him time to read her heart. As he'd suspected from the beginning, Rachel's harsh exterior was a front. The hurt she clutched inside caused her to close off people. Wearing black was her warning to stay away.

  He hoped she listened to his message about trust. She needed friends.

  Could she give enough of herself to be one to others?

  TEN

  Baking a soufflé was easier than bathing a baby.

  Binging on how-to videos half the night didn't build Rachel's confidence one iota.

  Rachel watched over Jess's shoulder as she bathed the first twin. Through the whole event, the baby giggled and clapped her hands, with an occasional splash in the small tub.

  Jess softly cooed as she ran a cloth over the little one's body. After the bath, she laid the baby on a towel on the bed, dried all the chubby skin folds, and dressed her in cozy pajamas.

  "Now your turn." Jess stood back. "Go ahead."

  Somehow Jess must not have noticed Rachel had become like a gravestone.

  "Rachel," Jess said. "It's okay."

  Rachel sliced her gaze from Jess to the unlucky child up next.

  "She's not very dirty, is she? Maybe tomorrow would be a better bath day. They say too many baths damage the skin. Something about the natural oils."

  Jess silently pointed to Rachel, the baby, and the bathtub.

  "Remember to test the temperature first," Jess said.

  Apparently, she wasn't getting out of this.

  The babies' tub sat in the full-sized bathtub which meant Rachel needed to get on her

  knees.

  So far, this step didn't seem different from prepping pasta water, minus salt and oil. And, not bringing this to boiling.

  Rachel swished her hand in the pink baby tub. It felt okay to her. When it was the same level as Jess had filled it, she turned off the faucet.

  "You want to test it?" She asked.

  Jess sat on the lidded toilet, baby number one in her arms. "Nope. You got this. Be sure you

  have all the towels and toys close, so you don't need to carry a drippy baby around the room."

  "Oh, yeah. I forgot." Another of a dozen details.

  She set the towels next to the toys and baby soap. She patted each towel into a neat stack, straightened them again with their folded sides forward. Then she lined up the little plastic animals so they all faced the same direction.

  After making sure the soap's flip-top worked, she sniffed the contents. "Lavender. How

  sweet."

  "Rachel, the baby will be in preschool before you get this bath started," Jess said.

  "I know. I know. I want to be prepared, is all."
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  "This is a bath. Not a barn raising. Don't forget to put the towel in the bottom of the tub.

  They can get a little slippery sometimes."

  Rachel hiked in a shocked breath. Oh, God. Oh, God. The towel.

  After everything was set up, Rachel walked to the crib where baby number two lay half asleep. She didn't look like she needed a bath to Rachel, but who was she to argue with the child's mother.

  Rachel appraised the situation. The sleeper had to come off before the bath. But what's first?

  Legs or arms?

  "Arms," Jess said.

  "How'd you know what I was thinking?"

  "Lucky guess."

  Once the sleeper and the diaper were off, Jess reminded Rachel to play a little bit with the

  baby and get her smiling. It was supposed to make bath time more pleasant.

  More pleasant implied something less pleasant was a possibility. Was this a warning?

  Rachel gingerly carried baby number two to the tub. The toys were entertaining until the

  blue elephant launched and pummeled Rachel between the eyes.

  Baby two thought this was hilarious. Then baby one started giggling. What was so funny? The toy bouncing off her skull, or her total inexperience?

  "Remember, wash her face and head last," Jess said.

  Last. Yes. In case they don't like it. "I remember."

  "And relax. You're doing fine." Jess took baby one back to her crib.

  Except for a small pucker, Rachel's charge didn't mind her head wash. This round of world

  baby wrestling was about to end.

  Rachel lifted her squeaky-clean child from the tub. She cracked up when the baby made

  another scrunchy face.

  The scent of lavender left the house.

  "Whewee. Jess, we need you in here, fast."

  "Oh, my goodness," Jess said.

  "Oh, my something," Rachel said.

  With a baby in one arm and a towel over the other, Jess raced over and wiped the baby's

  little buns.

  "Rice cereal again?" Rachel asked.

  "Hard to tell," Jess said.

  "Well, back in we go," Rachel said.

  Practice makes perfect.

  ~~~

  "Something about her bothers me." Elle sat cross-legged on the woodpile watching Ian on

  the porch of his cabin.

  "Something about everyone bothers you. What's new?" Ian finished attaching the last feather on the quiver full of arrows he'd made for Elle.

  "No. I mean it. The new woman in town is hiding something."

  "How would you know? You haven't met her. You don't have a clue." He still regretted how

  he'd been so curt with Rachel. No wonder she hadn't taken him up on the invitation to come back to the Pub.

  "Call it intuition," she said.

  "I call it mean-spirited jealousy. You found out she and I went to Howler's. We had dinner

  together. All there was to it." And probably all there would be to it. Who'd want to get mixed up with him, anyway? He was decades older than Rachel and worlds apart.

  "Don't forget the parade." Elle pointed her finger at him. "I saw you cozying up to her.

  Beware."

  Spying? Of course. "Come on. You think Solange Ford would bring anyone into her home

  who wasn't vetted? A personal assistant handles sensitive matters. And there are two children in the house."

  A gnarly frown crossed Elle's lips. "Mark my words."

  "People might say the same about you, too. Nobody, including me, knows where you live.

  You just drop in and out at will. You dress like a lost boy from Peter Pan."

  "Thank you, dear brother. Sorry I don't meet your high standards." After she put the arrows in her quiver, she pointed to the cabin and surrounding woods.

  "Pretty funny coming from somebody who lives in the wilderness," she said.

  He tolerated her BS since she was his only living sibling. Sometimes, like this, he

  considered changing his status to the only child left in the family.

  "This conversation is going nowhere." Ian took his longbow and quiver and walked deeper

  into the forest, and away from Elle.

  "We'll see," she called.

  After he moved to Nocturne Falls, he'd given up killing animals. For target practice, he'd

  painted a bullseye on a hay bale. Shooting arrows into straw was the only way to maintain his skills.

  He'd had a bow in his hand since he was old enough to hold one. His father, and generations

  before him, passed down the art, including making arrows. From the field point tips he made for her, he knew Elle still killed game. He hoped it was for the meat and not just for the sport.

  Crazy as Elle was, he knew she had sense enough never to let her prey suffer.

  He'd made it clear if she ever screwed up and hit a shifted animal, he'd be the first

  one to turn her over to the sheriff.

  But she needed to let this Rachel Ortega thing go.

  And it was time he did, too.

  ELEVEN

  Smaller crowds showed up at Black Friday doorbusters.

  Rachel edged her way through shoppers as she climbed the steps to the Carpe Diem gift

  store. Jess had suggested her grandmother might know how to find Ian.

  Jess had been right about how easy this place was to find. The only bright pink Victorian

  around.

  It had been three weeks since the Panic Parade and dinner with Ian. Though Solange kept

  her busy with work, and Jess with edging her progressively into full childcare mode, Rachel couldn't stop thinking about Ian.

  She'd mulled over and over what he'd told her. He was an elf. No. He'd made it clear he was

  a half-elf. What she found on the Internet about elves was ridiculous. For sure, Ian wasn't the kind of guy to wear a felt hat and sit on a shelf.

  None of the Fords knew much about him, either. He worked at the Poisoned Apple but

  otherwise kept to himself. The Fords said he wasn't like the other summer elves in town. Rachel hadn't met any others as far as she knew, so she had no comparison. And it was rumored he had a sister here. But the Fords didn't know her.

  Rachel stepped inside the Carpe Diem and into a different world. She stood out of the

  way and took it all in before she began exploring.

  One room had ceiling-to-floor shelves filled with tarot and oracle cards, and books of

  all mystical persuasions.

  Racks held dozens of essential oils. And sage. And incense. One nook had the cutest collection of hand-made fairy houses.

  Suddenly her head began to spin.

  This place was overflowing with energetic noise. Although uncommon for a falcon, her

  inherited ability to pick-up subtle vibrations intensified to a painful level with an indoors crowd.

  A long time ago, Rachel had developed a way to block these signals so she didn't end up

  absorbing them like a sponge. If she remembered to do it.

  She passed a display of crystal pendulums rotating in circles. When she stepped away from

  them, they stopped. Her shield was down. She took several deep breaths, and summoned protection. Immediate relief and a reminder not to forget again.

  There were baskets full of every gem imaginable. But she was finicky about

  touching anything until she was sure it had been cleansed under a full moon.

  She spotted two high school aged girls behind the counter. When there was a break in the

  customer line, Rachel asked if they knew Ian.

  The girls exchanged quizzical glances.

  "Maybe Miss Echo knows him. She lives up there." One pointed to the stairway.

  "Go on up. She's in between client appointments," the other added.

  Rachel thanked them and went
upstairs. The smell of burning sage grew stronger the closer

  she got to the top.

  "Hello," she called.

  A little lady all of five feet tall came around the corner from the kitchen, holding a tray with a teapot, and two cups and saucers. "You are just in time for tea."

  "Are you Echo?"

  "Of course, I am. And you are Rachel Ortega. I've been expecting you."

  "Did Jess tell you?" Rachel asked.

  "Jess? I haven't talked to her in days. She needs to bring those babies over here so I can see them."

  The little lady must be confused. Jess must have spoken to her. How else? Rachel admired the pearl bracelet Echo placed next to an abalone shell holding a bundle of smoking sage.

  "My dear, I know a great many things," Echo said. "You're a falcon, aren't you?"

  Did Brianna or Jess tell her? Or Solange?

  "Not from them," Echo said.

  Something touched Rachel's ankle. She looked down at a huge white fur ball the size of a child's ottoman.

  "Wow," she half-whispered. "What a big cat."

  Echo's eyes twinkled as a Cheshire grin sliced her face. "Meet Crealde."

  The cat sat in a haughty pose, his front toes scarcely visible under all his fur. Rachel swore he made a short nod. Impossible.

  "Crealde, you've had your grand entrance moment. Now leave us alone a bit. I'm sure this nice lady has something on her mind." Echo poured Rachel's tea. "You prefer honey, correct?"

  After Rachel watched Crealde meander into the living room and hop up on the sofa, she whipped her head back around.

  "How'd you know?" She asked.

  Echo gave herself a thumb's up. "A person's preferences are a little harder to read than their thoughts. But I still have the knack. Jess didn't tell you about me, did she?"

  Rachel shook her head. This was getting creepy.

  "Sweetie, relax. This is Nocturne Falls. Everybody and everything has a story."

  The tea was a delightful lemony blend. Rachel detected a mysterious spice.

  "My secret," Echo said.

  Rachel put her cup down. "This isn't laced, is it?"

  "Of course not. My dear, you are wound tighter than a ten-day clock. I guess it's partly my fault."

  Echo slid the bracelet on her wrist. "There now. Let's start from the beginning. Promise you'll keep an open mind?"