Shifters And Glyphs

by Bauer, Christina;

  “No worries.”

  I slip my palm against his bristled cheek. “I still do worry.”

  Knox kisses my palm. “Which is why you’re my girl.” He exhales a long breath. “I need to explain about this place, but there isn’t a lot of time.”

  Blinking hard, I try to get the sleep out of my brain. My guess is that Knox wants to explain this place’s fairy-tale template, but I’m not sure I’m awake enough for story time yet. Even my wolf is still snoozing. Besides that, my stomach is growling. I’m hoping there’s a chance to munch on a croissant or something before we get into anything too intense.

  “Not a lot of time?” I ask through a yawn. “What do you mean?”

  “The horn. They definitely would’ve heard that.”

  “They?” It’s still taking me longer than usual to catch on to things here. “Oh, you mean the people who live in the castle?”

  “Yeah, them. I never told you my fairy-tale life template.” The edge of a growl creeps into his voice. I don’t need to catch Knox’s scent to know that, whatever his fairy-tale life template is, the idea saddens him.

  Inside me, my wolf yawns awake as well. “That terrible principal asked our mate the same question at school,” she says. “We don’t care what Knox’s template is.”

  Knox tilts his head. “Does your wolf have something to say about that?”

  “As a matter of fact, she does. And I believe the same thing, too. It doesn’t matter what your fairy-tale life template is. You’re with me now. We make up our own story.”

  “That we do, Bry.” Those are the words Knox says, but I can still scent the acidity of his worry. “When I fought the Denarii, I lived out my template. Hard. I was a different guy. A killing machine.”

  “You were avenging your parents.”

  “It wasn’t what I was doing; it was what I became to get the job done.” He closes his eyes. “Not a man. Not even a wolf.”

  I lock my gaze with his. “I’m with you today, not some version of you from the past.” My shifter hearing picks up a new sound: soft wooden creaking. The main doorway is opening in the castle above. Knox sucks in a sharp breath.

  “What has you worried?” I ask. “The people who live in the castle?”

  “Not all of them,” says Knox slowly. “Just one.”

  My eyes widen as more of my thoughts come into focus. “So your ex does live here.”

  “Yeah.” The slight growl in his voice is unmistakable.

  My pulse flutters with this news, and not because it’s a surprise. The whole reason we were driving here was to confront Ty. Knox’s ex was supposed to hand over the Codex Mechanica last night at Boucle-Roux. Instead, she tricked some French weres into attacking me. Honestly, I’m more worried what my wolf will do when she meets Ty. My inner animal is rather protective.

  All of a sudden, the castle seems to loom taller on the top of its cliff. Not sure where I pictured Ty living, but it definitely wasn’t a castle.

  Knox inhales. “You smell of anxiety. Does seeing Ty worry you?”

  I hold my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Only a little bit, and that’s because of my wolf.”

  As if on cue, my inner animal yips with glee. “Ty is bad. She makes our mate angry. Now, we’ll raid her stone den and bite her!”

  It’s amazing how my wolf can go from barely awake to ready to bite ex-girlfriends in thirty seconds or less. Over the past few months, I’ve learned to nip these ideas in the bud early. When I next speak to my wolf, I take care to use my no-nonsense voice. “Get that idea out of your head, fur girl.”

  A small smile rounds Knox’s full lips. “Fur girl?”

  I pop my hand over my mouth. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” For the umpteenth time.

  “Yeah.” Knox’s smile broadens. “Don’t worry. It’s cute.”

  My inner wolf preens. “Our mate is the best.”

  “Agreed,” I reply in my mind.

  Back in the outside world, I can’t help but match Knox’s grin. “Actually, it’s my big bad inner werewolf. I’m trying to keep her in line.”

  “Even cuter. What’s she want to do?”

  “Ah. That would be …” I try to think of a subtle way of expressing this but come up empty. “She wants to bite Ty’s face off.”

  Knox chuckles. “I’d like to see that.”

  With a loud thud, the main gates finally swing open. A small army of servants pours from the castle and heads our way. Even from a distance, I can tell they’re a rather fancy crowd of servants. All the men sport dark suits with cravats, while the ladies wear gray dresses with poufy maid hats. I scan the group for someone who might look like ex-girlfriend material and come up empty. Knox told me that Ty was our age—all these servants have gray hair.

  Inside my soul, my wolf growls her displeasure. “Is the one who angers our mate drawing closer? Can I chomp her?”

  “No and no,” I reply in my head.

  “Please? I just want to bite off her ankle.”

  “The answer is still no. Besides, she isn’t here yet anyway.”

  “Fine.” My inner animal huffs out a frustrated breath. “I can wait.”

  Knox eyes me carefully through the car window. “Your wolf still feeling chatty?”

  I nod. “In case you’re wondering, she’d be happy biting off Ty’s ankle.”

  My inner animal chimes in again. “What’s wrong with that?” asks my wolf. “She’s got two ankles. She doesn’t need them both.”

  This time, I decide to ignore my wolf. Engaging with her about whether Ty needs two ankles is not a conversation that will end well anyway.

  “Ankles,” says Knox. “Got it.” He lowers his voice. “You still good? We can come back later if you need some time with your animal.” He cracks his neck from side to side. “Tell the truth, we could both probably use a good run. Long car rides and wild animals don’t mix, yeah?”

  “Look, I’m fine,” I assure him. “My wolf’s definitely under control.”

  My inner animal is not dropping the issue. “What about a finger, then? She’s got ten of those.”

  Knox gives me the side-eye. “You sure?” he asks.

  “Honestly, I’d rather get this over with.” And not just because we’re running out of time before the equinox arrives.

  That results in more side-eye. “Not even one quick run?” My mate is always protective about giving our animals time in the wild.

  “Both my wolf and I are fine. Absolutely.”

  Inside my mind, my wolf is definitely not giving up. “If you won’t let me have a finger, how about a toe?”

  Now, this has gone on long enough that I can’t ignore it. “If you keep talking about taking Ty’s body parts, I’ll put you in stasis.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  Knox inhales. “Your scent mixes aggression and determination. That’s good. Ty’s tricky, you know.”

  I shrug. “Tricky goes along with being a sorceress, right?”

  “Partly.” Knox frowns. “Ty’s a little nutty, too.”

  Unfortunately, my mate is the master of understatement. If Knox is saying Ty is a little nutty, that can only mean one thing.

  “In other words, Ty is bat-crap crazy.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Knox glances over his shoulder. “Here they come.”

  The servants rush down the gravel driveway, a small cloud of dust puffing up behind them. For a bunch of older folks, this group is certainly spry. All the while, they chat away in rapid-fire French, so I try to catch some of their talk. Since I only speak English, I recognize Knox’s name, and that’s about it. It’ll be great when I learn how to harness my witch power. Then, I’ll be able to cast translation spells for situations like this one.

  Within seconds, the servants congregate by a small iron door off to one side of the main gate. A super-tall guy stands up front, a loop of old-fashioned keys in his veiny fist. After some jangling and stuff, Tall Guy unlocks the side door. Everyone race
s out to surround Knox. Turning, my mate faces the group and starts to converse. Of course, Knox speaks perfect French because, well, that’s Knox.

  I have no idea what’s going on, except everyone’s speaking French and seems incredibly happy to see my mate. Then I hear one thing I do recognize. A name.

  “Reginald.”

  My skin prickles into gooseflesh. I must be hearing things. It happens again.

  “Reggie.”

  After that, I catch another word.

  “Denarii.”

  Officially, this has become one conversation that I don’t want to miss—and I can’t have it in the car without translation help. Gripping the handle, I start to open the door, but everyone is pressed up against that side of the Fiat in their efforts to encircle Knox.

  The whole situation is anxiety-inducing to my inner wolf. “Denarii mean danger! We must shift and run!”

  My wolf has a point. At this moment, I could easily use my shifter strength to burst through the car door, but that would be overkill, especially with this particular group of servants.

  “Let me talk to them first,” I reply. “These servants don’t smell like shifters. I could hurt them.”

  “But Ty could be nearby,” counters my wolf. “If we’re in wolf form, we could get that toe.”

  And here we go again. My wolf has a one-track mind. “We are not biting anyone’s anything. Last warning.”

  I cup my hand by my mouth. “Hello, there.”

  No one replies. Instead, the servants keep talking at once—at ever-higher volumes—and always in French. Worse, Reggie and the Denarii are definitely the highlight of the conversation. My pulse speeds faster. Has Reggie been running around here trying to “help”?

  Time to get answers.

  I set both pinkies in either side of my mouth and let out a long whistle. Everyone quiets.

  Knox turns. Laughter dances in his blue eyes. “You want something, Bry?”

  “I heard the name Reggie.”

  “Sure thing; I’ll fill you in.” Knox turns to the group. “Stand back, everybody. Make some room.” The way he talks to the servants is more conversational than bossy. Maybe Ty owns this castle, and Knox got to be buddies with the staff while they were dating? Seems reasonable.

  The servants step back and form a long, neat row. It must be part of their staff routine because I’ve never seen a group line up so quickly. There are about twenty servants, evenly split between men and women. All of them are staring at me, wide eyed. I sniff the air. Times like these, it’s great to have a shifter sense of smell. In this case, I catch the lemon of anxiety mixed with the flowery bloom of happiness. Most likely, these servants are pleased to see Knox, along with a little worried about how their mistress will handle the new girlfriend in the Fiat.

  Makes sense. If I were them, I’d worry about my boss freaking out, too.

  Knox pulls on the car door; it swings open with a long creak. It’s as if time slows down as I make my way out of the Fiat and into the morning air. A blush crawls over my skin.

  For a moment, I wonder if I should get back in the car, but I shake the idea off. Knox knows these people. If he thinks it’s okay for me to meet them, it’s fine.

  I straighten the folds my black duster. I’m still in my unshreddable outfit from this morning. In fact, I’m even wearing my bracelet in case I need to glamour myself into looking like I’m wearing a regular school uniform. I shake my head. Was my first day at West Lake only two days ago? Seems like a million years have passed since then. I clear my throat.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  All the servants start talking at once.

  In French.

  Not helping.

  Knox raises his arms, palms forward in the universal sign for Stop right there. “Whoa, guys.” They quiet instantly. “Bry here doesn’t speak French, so you’ll need to use English from here on out.” Everyone nods, which I take as a good sign.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “First things first.” Knox steps to my side and wraps his arm about my waist, pulling me close against him. “This is Bryar Rose. She’s my mate.”

  That news changes things for the servants. The scent of anxiety, which was pretty faint before, now becomes overwhelmingly strong. Still, if these folks worry about how their mistress will handle meeting Knox’s new mate, that’s their problem. I need to find out if Reggie is running around the French countryside and causing trouble. And then there’s the issue of finding the Codex Mechanica, but that will have to wait a minute.

  I focus on Knox. “I heard the name Reggie before. Why?”

  It might just be me, but it feels like the servants just reached an entirely new level of quiet. All eyes seem to be locked on me and Knox in a way that isn’t entirely comfortable.

  They know something I don’t.

  “To begin with,” says Knox slowly. “I used to hunt Denarii with Ty.”

  “You did?” Not sure why this surprises me, but it does. I guess I always pictured Ty as off somewhere casting spells over cell phones, not doing something useful like killing zombie-mummies.

  “Sure,” continues Knox. “Back then, I hired folks to help me out, depending on the job. Ty’s one of the best mercenary sorceresses around. She was with me when I first captured Reggie, and the two of them got to be friendly.”

  I purse my lips. “Friendly? Reggie only talks in creepy songs that he makes up on the fly. He’s not really friend material.”

  “Anyway, he and Ty still hit it off,” explains Knox. “They’re both …” He bobs his head, trying to find the right word.

  “Off their rocker?” I ask.

  “Yeah. That.”

  I rub my neck, thinking through the implications of that bit of news. “So, when Reggie escaped last summer, you thought he might come here.”

  “Right,” says Knox. “That’s when I reached out to these guys.” Knox gestures to the line of servants. “I asked them to give me a heads up if they noticed anything suspicious. They just finished telling me how they haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”

  The tallest servant—the guy who’d opened the side gate door with his keys—steps forward. He’s a lanky dude whose lean face is topped by an artful swoosh of gray hair. When he speaks, it’s with a serious French accent. “We’ve kept zee watch just as you requested, my Master.”

  Now, that’s one really thick French accent, but I can still understand what he says. Surprisingly, I’m pretty sure Tall Guy just called Knox his Master. I frown. Maybe I’m mishearing things. It has been a long twenty-four hours, after all.

  Knox shakes his head. “You know I don’t like that name, Louis.” The way Knox says the name, it’s with a little accent as well: LOO-eee.

  “Apologies,” replies Louis. “We’ve kept zee watch as you requested, Sir.” He bows a little after he says that last bit, as if he needs to make up for not saying Master.

  It’s taken me a little while, but I’m finally catching on to what’s happening here. I turn to Knox. “Is this your castle?”

  “But ov course,” answers Louis. He’s a fairly chatty guy, now that he’s broken the ice. “As I said, Knox eez our master.”

  “Technically, this is Az’s place,” says Knox. “One of many. He left it to me.”

  I open my mouth, ready to correct Knox because, actually, when you leave something to someone, it’s not yours anymore. In other words, Knox is definitely the master of all these folks now, whatever that means. But I close my mouth instead. Knox is my mate, and we need to provide a united front, at least in front of his team. I can bring up the You’re actually the Master here discussion later.

  Louis lifts his chin. “Whatever you say, Sir.” Looks like Louis is also on Team Keep Your Mouth Shut for Now. “Shall we take you to see Mademoiselle Ty now? She’s still in residence.” The way he says, “In residence,” it’s clear that Ty didn’t just stop by here on a whim. Knox’s ex is living in his random French palace.

  This is get
ting complex.

  Inside my heart, my wolf paces in anger. That’s not a good sign. “Ty,” growls my wolf. “We hates her.”

  And she’s talking like Gollum again.

  An even worse sign.

  “One second.” Knox turns to me and lowers his voice. “Sure you don’t want to know my fairy-tale life template?”

  It’s a good question. On the one hand, I’m super curious about this whole Ty situation. However, on the other hand, there are about twenty servants standing around, waiting to hear our personal business. Like the conversation about who owns what castle, it can wait.

  “I stand behind what I said before.” I lift my chin. “I don’t need to know your fairy-tale life template.”

  Knox leans in, brushing a gentle kiss across my lips. My knees turn wobbly. “Thanks for that.”

  “Any time.” I wink.

  “All right.” Knox takes my hand, and together, we head toward the castle. “Get ready to meet my personal nightmare.”

  Inside my soul, my wolf prances about with her tail held high. “Our mate thinks Ty is his personal nightmare. Good, good, goooooood! We’ll get to chomp her face off soon. I know it!”

  “No,” I counter in my mind. “Chances are, this will be bad, bad, bad. Ty is a sorceress and a nutjob. We need to be careful.”

  “You ruin all my fun,” my wolf grumbles.

  That does it. Tapping into my shifter power, I pull the cords of golden energy inside me. My wolf instantly falls into a deep sleep. She’s been warned to be careful; now she’s going into the equivalent of a magical time out.

  No wolf and Ty at the same time, thank you very much.

  After stepping through the gate’s side door, Knox and I begin the long walk up to the castle. How did all those senior citizens speed down this driveway so quickly? Right now, every step feels like I’m treading through molasses.

  I straighten my shoulders. Who cares about some ex-girlfriend? Why should I worry? I fought Jules, the undead Roman general and creepster extraordinaire. Plus, last night, I battled werewolves with Knox at my side. And now, my mate and I are reunited and loving it.

  We can face down one off-the-wall sorceress.