by Candace Colt
Ian found some small scissors in a drawer. "These should work."
After a few quick snips, she had it open. Inside, a brown envelope with a message written on it. 'You might need this.'
A chill coursed through her. This had no place in a nursery, nor around Ian.
"I'll be back." She dashed downstairs and to her suite. In private, she ripped open the envelope.
Wrapped in a layer of newspaper were her knife and the waist holster.
A trusted companion, this had never been more than a few inches from her on the road. After the first days in Nocturne Falls, she hadn't missed it.
If she wore it again, she would give in to distrust and suspicion.
She clenched her hand around the sheathed knife.
Why did this have to come back to her now?
~~~
Jess came into the nursery to check on Ari and Cat.
"I just saw Rachel on her way back to her apartment. She had a strange, almost panicked look on her face. What's wrong?"
Ian had no clue what spawned her peculiar habit of running from him.
He picked up the empty express envelope and showed it to Jess. "As soon as she opened this, her face turned ashen. She excused herself and took off."
Jess flashed a bewildered look. "What freaked her out? Did you see it?"
Ian slowly shook his head. "I assure you, I have no idea."
"I'll go find out." Jess turned back to Ian. "Better thought, why don't you?"
Ian stood silently in the open door to Rachel's room. Her back to him, she stared out the sliding doors to the patio. No doubt she was a fine-looking woman. Tall, slender and curved in admirable places. He'd only had one short moment to hold her in his arms, but it was something he would savor forever.
He cleared his throat to announce his presence. "When you didn't come back I thought I should check on you."
She wiped something from her face and turned to him. Her eyes and nose were red as embers. Why was she crying?
"I must have done something awful this time," he said.
"It's not you." She walked to the bathroom and blew her nose on a strip of toilet tissue. With the tissue over her nose, she called to him.
"You don't have to stand in the doorway," she said.
Ian didn't wait for a second invitation. "Whoever sent you the parcel should be held accountable for these tears."
"It's not them, either," she said.
Rachel baffled him, as did all women. Over his lifetime, he'd seen hundreds of them erupt into impromptu crying. It remained something he would never understand. He managed his emotions with physical labor. Anything to burn off energy and calm down. He might recommend the idea to Rachel, later.
Perhaps he should leave her alone. "I'll tell Jess you're fine."
"Wait." Rachel dabbed a towel over her face. "Don't leave."
She whisked past him, opened the fridge, and took out two cans of beer.
"Would you sit with me on the patio for a while?" She asked.
He didn't need a second to consider it. "Absolutely. If you don't mind, may I have some apple juice?"
"Okay. If it's what you want."
His first meal had been hours ago. After the long session in the Hair Scare, and coming here, he craved fruit. The juice would have to do for now.
Fresh air reinvigorated Rachel's creamy complexion. Would she stay composed after she heard what he needed to tell her? Or would she bolt again like a wild horse?
Amethyst's scrying mirror had shown Rachel would be part of his future. But the road would not be easy and it would take a great deal of work to overcome their many differences.
Each time he'd looked into Rachel's heart he'd seen loveliness shrouded in pain. When they kissed, he knew she was the one woman through all time who would complete his life.
She looked at him now with eyes full of questions. And sadness. He wanted to hold her. Tell her everything would be fine.
"I will never understand what you've been through, but I can tell something haunts you. I want to help," he said.
She made a slight headshake and tipped her chin. "Don't, Ian. Don't go there."
"Why?"
She placed her warm hand on his arm. "You're a great guy, but I don't want you wasting time trying to psychoanalyze me. Besides, I'm not staying around much longer."
"What?" Ian's heart dropped to his feet.
"I gave myself three months tops here. I've had a great gig. Met great people. Made great money. But it's time to move on."
She was saying the words, but her heart told another story. Ian didn't believe a word of what she said, and he didn't think she did either.
"Move on? Don't you mean run again?" He risked much on these questions.
She cut her gaze to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I've watched you run twice. Neither time was there a life-threatening reason to do so. You ran because there's something you can't face. And I suspect it's reflected in your passport with more countries stamped on it than most people know exist. Demons chase all of us, Rachel. Either we decide to cast them out of our lives, or we let them consume us."
Her eyelids narrowed. Ian kept the scrying mirror in his mind as he waited for her response.
"You watch your sister die because of something stupid you did. See what it does to you. And how that demon rips your family to shreds." Her nostrils flared as she hissed the words.
"But I have watched death, Rachel. Many times."
She took a long sip of beer and stared toward the woods. When her breathing slowed to normal, he continued.
"Many things about me might surprise you," he said.
She snickered. "Like cutting your hair?"
He reached for his ponytail, forgetting it was gone.
"My life as an elf," he said.
She looked back at him. The beginning of a smile crossed her lips.
"Don't you mean half-elf?" She asked.
"Point taken. Perhaps if I share my story, it might help."
"You don't have to," she said.
"Yes, I do." For his own sake as well as for her. "How old do you think I am?"
"Thirty? Maybe a little older."
He took a deep breath. "Rachel, I was born in 1918."
"Come on. You're messing with me."
"No. It's quite true."
Rachel looked away toward the deep woods and back to Ian.
"If it helps, your haircut makes you look a lot younger."
SEVENTEEN
It must be his genes.
Rachel tried to wrap her head around this. She scanned and rescanned Ian's face.
She lifted a finger and hesitated. "May I?"
"By all means."
She softly outlined his eyes and around his mouth. Not one wrinkle.
She took his hands in hers and turned them front to back. Nice and strong. A callous or two. No funky age spots. Not a strand of gray on his head. A solid build.
And someone who knows how to kiss a woman.
Touching him like this uncoiled something deep inside her. Surely not the beginning of love?
"Ian, are you sure about 1918?" She asked.
He laughed. "Quite."
Even his laugh was sexy.
"You're not an immortal vampire, are you?" She asked.
He shook his head.
She released his hands and leaned back. What kind of elf was he?
"Maybe you should tell me more. Start from the beginning."
"It goes back a long way."
"I'm all ears." She clapped her hand over her mouth and muffled, "Sorry."
"Not necessary." Ian flicked an ear tip. "These are a bit more obvious without the long hair."
"Can you give me the Cliff Notes?"
His puzzled look was adorable.
"The short version," she added.
He waited a moment before he began.
"My father's
family came from southern Europe. Summer elves like my ancestors cannot abide the cold well. So, life there was perfect for many generations.
A few years before I was born, the humans started a terrible war. Our families scattered to safety all over the world. My father and close friends escaped to Brazil. In this different world, the small colony tried to keep the old ways. They learned Portuguese to survive, but spoke the old language in their homes.
In my family, we spoke the new language for my mother and the old language for my father."
"Yesterday, were you singing in the old language?" She asked.
He nodded.
"How did you get to America?"
"When he fell in love with and married my human mother, he knew he faced banishment. They left South America and came here."
Ian shut his eyes and his shoulders dropped. "Their love was stronger than customs. But life here wasn't as easy as they'd hoped. Still considered outcasts, they found a way to survive and raise us. I wish there had been a Nocturne Falls in those days."
"Don't go on if the memories hurt too much," she said.
"I want to tell you," he said softly. "It's important. For us."
"What us?"
"Rachel, you are different from any other woman I've met in my life. Expressing feelings is new to me. I'm afraid I'm not very good at it."
Nor was she. Off limits, her heart sealed like a pharaoh's tomb the day her sister died. Ian had managed to pry it open a crack.
"It seems I've—," he began.
Uh oh. "Please, Ian. Don't say it." She couldn't hear this from Ian or any man.
"I understand."
Did he really understand the guilt and remorse she carried with her every day and everywhere she went?
Why would she want to burden anyone with that bundle of ugly?
"I’m not right for someone like you," she said.
"You have an odd perception of me, Rachel."
He reached across the small table and re-clasped her hands in his. When he did, seductive warmth and strength coursed through her.
"Whether you are ready to hear it or not, I love you," he said.
Why did he have to spoil everything? They had become good friends. Deep inside she knew she could trust him. He wasn't like most other superficial men with motives she learned to guard against.
She enjoyed being with him. He was intelligent and clever. Easy to look at. All the things make a man desirable.
Until, dammit, he'd brought love into this.
Everything was screwed up and it was all her fault. Because she acted on an impulse, he'd read too much into one inviting kiss.
This strong, handsome, sincere person was the right man, just not for her.
She had to get out of Nocturne Falls before she destroyed him.
"Ian, this isn't right." She tried to ease her hands away, but his firm grip persisted.
"Your heart says otherwise," he said.
"Excuse me?"
"I said there were many things about me you didn't know. For one, I can read a person's heart."
"Oh, so now you tell me you've been snooping into mine?"
"Not snooping. Just listening."
"What's the difference?" Between the psychics and mediums, a person can't buy a dollar's worth of privacy in this town.
"For the first time, my long life has proven to be worth something. I had to wait for the right woman—you. It may not be today, or even in a year, or longer. But one day you will accept my love and return it."
He released his hold and stood to leave.
"And I will be waiting," he said.
Rachel's heart thumped like a drum. How could he talk about love after only one kiss?
It didn't diminish her unqualified desire to enfold her arms around this man. At the same time, she knew she had to let him go for his own good. But now? Like this?
He continued. "When my kind falls in love, it is forever. I've waited a long time to find someone like you. I'd about given up hope."
Ian hesitated a moment as if to say more, then left her alone on the patio.
What the heck did he see in her that she didn't?
EIGHTEEN
Elves don't sleep.
At least in Ian's ancestral line.
Not too often did he envy humans. But tonight, he coveted their ability to shut their eyes and disappear into what they described as dreams. He would like to escape from this day.
His human mother slept as did his siblings, except for Elle. When Ian was very young, all the boys shared a room. He'd watch in wonder as their heavy lids closed. As their sleep deepened, even the sound of their snoring had amazed him.
He tried to mimic them. But it did no good.
Only the meditative state his father taught him and Elle came close to human sleep. Ian had learned it quicker than she did, and he'd always wondered if sleep deprivation put her off course from the beginning.
Whatever his rest state was called, Ian usually emerged restored and clear-headed. Still he longed to share the human experience of a dream.
Ian sat on his bed with his back against the headboard, expecting to drop into the state quickly as usual.
Tonight, he could not.
Fearing the loss of Rachel from his life, he'd abruptly declared love. She must think him a dolt. At the least, naïve. He wasn't worldly in romance, but at this age, he darn well knew how he felt about her.
He hadn't misinterpreted her heart, either. She had strong feelings for him. Why didn't she express them? What stood in her way?
Life with her would be grand just as Brianna and Connor, or Ryan and Jess. They'd proven falcons can marry humans, and bear offspring. It didn't bother the Fords if their children were falcons, or not.
Right now, the girls were babies who needed caretaking.
He would honor his commitment to help care for the twins, but he would no longer press Rachel. Sharing his life with her had become his consuming thought. He would wait.
He had all the time in the world.
~~~
Sleep evaded Rachel.
She gave up and went out to her patio. The full moon was a brilliant white and illuminated the immaculate backyard gardens. Stars blanketed the sky.
To a human's ears, the night was quiet. To a falcon, the night was as loud as day and proved she wasn't alone in the universe.
There was an order to the natural world, oblivious to humans.
But nothing helped her get out of her mind what Ian Hunter had told her.
What drilled deep into her soul wasn't the fact he was part elf, or he was born a century ago. Or he 'listened' to her heart.
What caused her to throw off the sweaty sheet was realizing he was right.
She did love him.
The reason she came to Nocturne Falls was to make a quick buck and take off to the next great adventure.
Not fall in love with a guy she'd met five weeks ago.
She'd analyzed this from every angle. Maybe they'd spent too much time together and needed a break.
Or she got caught up in the whole happily ever after thing after watching Jess and Ryan. Or Echo Stargazer's nudge. Nudge? Bulldozer.
There just wasn't a rational explanation. And lack of sleep wasn't helping.
She sat a few more minutes to wind down.
Of course, it didn't work. Who can force sleep?
There was one thing she could do to relax. It was the middle of the night. Solange said no flying during the day. Never shift in town. Fine. She could obey both those rules.
The allure of the woods behind the estate was irresistible. With moonlight and stars to guide her, night flights were an unmatched thrill. Decision made.
She pushed her chair away from the table and closed her eyes. From the depths of memory, she pictured herself soaring. Gliding above the trees. Dipping and diving.
She opened her eyes and focused on the brightest star and breathe
d deep, filling her body with intention.
Rachel never felt pain when she shifted, but she knew what was happening. Talons replaced fingers. Legs drew into her torso. A beak evolved. Her human body morphed and reduced to the size of a Peregrine.
And last, feathers emerged.
Always retaining her rational human mind and brain, Rachel could shift back at any time she wanted. Or fly until her body screamed.
She spread her wings to lift from the ground. It only took seconds before she was looking down at the mansion. She made a large lazy circle around the estate and got her bearings again from the moon and position of the north star.
She pumped hard to rise high enough to circle the trees. God, it felt so good. There was just a slight breeze at this hour. Was she still good enough to catch it?
Checking her angle twice, she rose again. One wing adjustment and she had it.
It wasn't long before Rachel was ready to push a little farther. She enlarged her circles until she had passed over the entire Wolf Creek community.
Shifters lived in every one of the homes down there. And it was quite possible she'd spot one tonight.
She landed on a sturdy pine tree branch. It was essential to practice her watch and wait skills as well as flying.
And it was so much fun. A squirrel nest was in a branch a few feet below. Of course, all of them were sleeping. Lucky for them she didn't kill for food anymore and had more important decisions to make.
If she flew over Nocturne Falls to see the town's lights, she could be back before anyone noticed.
Sounded like another good plan to her.
She'd driven the route a dozen times so following it from the air was a cinch. And fast. She was there in minutes.
It was a lovely town. It reminded her of some of the little places in the Alps. From this height, she saw every shop. And the park. And the grocery store.
She spotted the Carpe Diem and lowered over it. White as the moon, the cat slept on the porch swing. Any falcon who thought they'd take on Crealde was a fool. It would be an ugly fight and sad outcome. For the falcon.
Who was she kidding? She was here to find Ian. Could she see his cabin from the air? One way to find out.
Even in the moonlight, the woods were dense below her. Not even a wisp of his fireplace smoke escaped.
