Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters

by Aya Fukunishi, Linda Barlow, Elixa Everett, Virginia Wade, Savannah Reardon, Skye Eagleday, Giselle Renarde, Jessi Bond, Natalie Deschain, Audrey Grace, Francis Ashe, J. E.

  She chanced a glance down at his feet once more to verify she had seen what she thought she had seen.

  She had.

  On his feet were a pair of black shoes, polished to perfection. The big clunky Doc Martens style of shoe. What had made her laugh was the rather large golden buckles that sat atop of them instead of laces. They were the type of shoes you would expect to see on a leprechaun, which only made them all the more humorous to her considering his name was Shamus Flannigan.

  Maybe he is a leprechaun, a voice in the back of her mind joked with her. Nah! Way too tall. And hot. Very, very sexy indeed, despite the shoes. Besides, he's missing the cane and hat. Or maybe they carried a stick? Or maybe it was a cane? Bah, who knows? A grin formed on her face, but she was able to hold back the giggling this time.

  He finally stood, wiping his hands on his slacks. "As good as new."

  Suzanne gave him a puzzled look; she highly doubted whatever he’d done, tinkering under the hood without any tools, could have helped, but she'd humour him.

  He nodded towards the driver's side of the car. "Go try it."

  "All right." Suzanne, still mindful of the wind attempting to push her skirt up and in all directions around her, walked over to the driver's side of the car, opened the door and slid inside. She turned the key in the ignition and, to her surprise, without a single complaint, the motor roared into life.

  Shamus came over to the driver's side of the car and leaned down, giving her a charming wink. "See. Good as new."

  Suzanne was at a loss for words. "I...I, well thank you. You're a miracle worker."

  Shamus paused for a moment as if considering the possibility. "No. I wouldn't say that exactly, I just help people." He shrugged, "besides it's my job."

  "Helping people? Like a social worker?" She laughed. "Or a mechanic?"

  Shamus laughed with her. "I help people get where they need to be in life."

  She eyed him, her blue eyes surveying his face looking for hints about exactly what he meant, but they could play that game all day. It didn't appear that he was going to be overly forthcoming in supplying her with information about his occupation, so she dropped the subject.

  A career councillor? God only knew she could use one of those. She promptly dropped the topic from her mind.

  "Well thank you Mr. Flannigan," she finally said.

  He nodded. "You're welcome and have a good life Suzanne Winters. I think you'll start to see luck is on your side once again." He stood and backed away from the car, giving her a half wave as he did so.

  "You too. And thanks again," Suzanne called back. As she put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb it occurred to her that he knew her last name, but she was certain she hadn’t given it to him. Looking back in the rear-view mirror she was surprised to see that he was already gone. Have a good life; kind of an odd thing to say, she mused.

  By the time she arrived home, Shamus Flannigan and the odd spark, which she had decided on her way home looked more like a flash of colours, something more similar to a rainbow than a spark, were all pressed to the back of her mind.

  For the time being...

  Chapter 2

  Whistling a tune he didn't quite know the name of, Shamus strolled into the kitchen of his cabin, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, then went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. Taking the water with him, Shamus made his way into the living room. Another job complete. No worries, no hassles.

  "Damn, I'm good," he gave himself a mental pat on the back. At this moment, he was sure Suzanne would be experiencing a round of good luck that would put her life back on the right track. There was one thing that he couldn't quite get out of his head: the rainbow spark that had been generated when their hands had touched. He had played it off as a joke, speaking of a magical connection, but as a leprechaun that spark had significance. It also had an intense physical impact on him. He could feel a stirring in his groin at the mere thought of it. That touch, that magical frisson, indicated that the person was the leprechaun's destined mate.

  He had to admit he did find himself attracted to her. She was the first human he had felt urges towards. That long chestnut brown hair, those large doe-like blue eyes, the alluring yellow dress that hugged her waist and breasts, its neckline dipping just low enough to make a man, or leprechaun, crave to see more. Even her laughter was like music to his ears, soft and flirty.

  If he hadn't known her to be human, he might well have assumed she was a siren, a seductress of men. But she wasn't. Sirens knew they were sexy; they were bold and aggressive. From what he had been able to tell of Suzanne, from watching her through the liquid gold and then meeting her in person, she was sexy but in a quiet, alluring way. She was reserved, modest, and somewhat introverted.

  She was captivating.

  Shamus gave his head a quick shake. That's crazy talk Shamus. It's the spark talking, he attempted to convince himself.

  But the spark, of course, was impossible. Leprechauns never, ever had futures with humans. It simply wasn't how it was meant to be. A human's lifespan was significantly shorter than that of the vast majority of mystical beings, not to mention the aging process. The fact of the matter was that a leprechaun was more likely to die from an accident or be killed by a demon or creature of that sort, than to die of old age.

  Most leprechauns received the spark from fairies, or nymphs, or djinn, some even from angels. No. It had to have been a one-time-only thing. A mistake. Plain and simple. Besides, the job was done and it was time for him to move on to a new charge. That was the last he would be seeing of Suzanne Winters.

  "One peek. Just one peek wouldn't hurt," he muttered to himself, putting his glass of water down on the large wooden coffee table and making his way over to the pot of gold. He tried to convince himself that he was just checking to ensure that his magic had worked and that she was now cleared of the bad luck and on the path to her destiny. Deep down he knew he was simply lying to himself. He wanted to see her again, if only to spy on her through a pot of molten, metallic liquid.

  ****

  To her delight, the car had been working wonderfully for the past few days. She had received a rebate in the mail – just today – from her car insurance company. Apparently she had been charged too much for car insurance last year so they sent her the difference. Receiving money from an insurance agency was nothing short of a miracle, all things considered – at least in her mind. It just so happened that the amount she received almost equalled what she owed in parking tickets, so she took that money and squared herself off with the parking commission of the city of Boston, Mass.

  A number of other lucky breaks seemed to have come her way the past couple of days as well: a Gucci bag she had had her eye on for the past month suddenly went on sale. She got it for half the regular ticketed price. She lost five pounds without even trying! The cute guy she had been flirting with on and off at the supermarket over the past month had finally asked her for her telephone number; and to top it all off, she even received a raise. It was just a quarter – certainly nothing to write home about – but it was better than nothing.

  Suzanne's luck indeed seemed to be taking an upward turn, at least until that moment.

  It was Friday evening; she had just finished her final day of work for the week and was currently in her car preparing to head home. When she slipped her key in the ignition, instead of the engine roaring to life, she heard the dreaded click.

  She tried a second time, holding her breath as she attempted her second try.

  Click. Click.

  Flopping herself back into the seat she closed her eyes and counted to ten.

  "Six...seven...eight...nine...ten," she opened her eyes and turned the key one last time.

  Nothing. Not even the usual click sound this time. "The least you could have done was try to start," she muttered under her breath, scolding the car. At least it’s payday. I can afford the starter now, she took solace in that fact as she reached over and began to rummage
through her newly acquired Gucci handbag looking for her mobile phone.

  Gotcha! She yanked it from her handbag, flipping it open as she brought it to eye level. As she began to dial directory assistance to request the number for a towing company, she noticed the screen and keypad were dark. It was then that she realized she had forgotten to charge it the night before. Dead.

  "Ugh," she groaned in frustration, tossing the phone back into her handbag. Letting out a loud sigh, she looked around the parking lot. It was deserted. Workers rarely lingered after a shift, and on a Friday evening it was like a stampede for the door at quitting time. She always lingered a few extra minutes after her shift just so she could avoid the madness of getting out of the parking lot with the dozens of other workers. She now sat wishing she hadn't.

  "Okay, Suzanne, think." If she recalled correctly there was a service station with a stall or two attached to it just a few miles down the road. I could push the car there, save the money on the tow... She stopped that line of thought in its tracks as she looked down at her four-inch-heeled sandals and above-the-knee, short black skirt.

  She considered going back into the call center, but the building was in darkness. She was positive it would be locked and the management already gone for the weekend.

  "You're not going to get out of this situation sitting here Suzanne," she coached herself, picking up her handbag and exiting the vehicle. Once out she surveyed her surroundings a second time. The area was mostly residential, the businesses nearby already closed. She hesitated at the idea of going up to someone's house and asking to go in and use the telephone. She'd seen one too many movies where bad things happened to people stranded with car trouble, who thought it was a good idea to seek assistance from inhabitants of the nearest house.

  She chewed nervously at her fingernail thinking. The service station is only a few miles up the road. She looked up at the sky. It was slightly overcast, but she was certain there were still a couple of hours of daylight left. If she hurried she could make it to the station before it got dark.

  The part of Boston she was currently in was one of the last places a single female in high heels and a short skirt wanted to be on a Friday night. Unless of course she was looking to make a few extra bucks.

  Nodding her head, Suzanne made her decision. She locked the car, slung her handbag over her shoulder and began her several-mile walk to the service station, walking as briskly as the heels would allow her.

  She was making fairly good time; at least she thought she was. At what she assumed to be approximately the halfway point between her car and the service station, she entered a severely low-income, high-crime residential area. The sidewalks were lined with trash and cigarette butts, among other things. The buildings, as far as she was concerned, should have been condemned long ago; at least from their appearance on the outside. Peeling paint, smashed-in windows, some with plastic or plywood over them, broken wood and chipped bricks greeted her from both sides.

  As she passed by one particularly ragged-looking apartment building, the front door opened and a man appeared whom she would have guessed to be in his mid-fifties, though it was somewhat hard to tell, due to the fact he had a layer of filth over his clothing and face, along with a scruffy beard, which hadn't been trimmed in several years judging from the length of it. He spotted her immediately as she picked up her pace, keeping her eyes straight ahead, hoping that avoiding eye contact would discourage any communication with him. As she drew closer to the steps, and to him, she could detect the smell of alcohol.

  "Miss," he shouted out as she approached him.

  Suzanne scurried past the man, taking a deep breath and hoping he wouldn't pursue, but not daring to look back to find out for sure.

  "Got a smoke?" he shouted, louder this time.

  Ignoring him she moved faster still, nearly breaking out into a run. Once she cleared the next block she dared to look back over her shoulder. He was nowhere to be seen. Suzanne was thankful for that. What was beginning to concern her was that the sky was starting to darken. Red and orange streaks were appearing along the line of the horizon as the sun descended, giving way to the moon.

  Because she was looking back over her shoulder she failed to see the large, deep crack in the sidewalk, directly ahead of her. The heel of her shoe stuck into the crack, sending her hurtling towards the ground.

  Suzanne let out a startled scream as she tumbled forward, but her fall was broken by a strong set of masculine arms that caught her, lifting her up into a tight embrace. The embrace sent a tremor through her body.

  Whipping her head upward, she brushed a lock of hair from her eyes as she gazed into the concerned face of Shamus Flannigan.

  "Not exactly the best neighbourhood in which to be taking a walk," he commented, the concern on his face disappearing, giving way to a grin.

  Suzanne couldn't help but notice the amused gleam in his eyes. Nor could she ignore how good it felt to be in his arms, her hands sliding up over his lean, muscular chest to around his neck. She felt safe, secure, protected, for the first time since she had started walking. She wasn't overly anxious to leave the security of his embrace quite yet.

  "What can I say? I'm an adrenaline junkie! Once a week or so I go into a bad part of town to see how long it takes to get mugged." She glanced over at the watch on her wrist then continued, "Forty-five minutes so far."

  Shamus nodded. "In that case, I had better be moving on and leave you to it. I wouldn’t want to be cramping your danger high," he teased, stepping away from her. As he stepped away, her fingers brushed the bare skin of his neck under the collar of the green button-down shirt he was wearing.

  The contact of skin on skin caused the same reaction she had noticed several days ago. A spark consisting of a rainbow of colours emerged between their connected skin, taking her breath away as a jolt whizzed through her. Suzanne gasped and backed away, unsure what to make of it. This time she couldn't pass off what she had just seen as her imagination. It was undoubtedly real.

  Looking up into Shamus's face she knew he might not have seen what she had, but he had to have felt what she felt when her fingertips touched the bare skin of his neck. His expression reflected her own feelings: confusion, surprise and a stirring of raw desire within.

  "Did you..." her voice trailed off as she noticed a grin spreading over his face.

  "Like I said before, we must have a magical connection," he said, laughing lightly, then looked down at her left foot. "I'm not sure where you're heading, but hope it's not too far." Shamus pointed down to her shoe, which now had a broken heel.

  Suzanne followed his gaze down to her shoe. The silver heel had pulled almost completely away from the bottom of the shoe; it was being held on by just a thin half-inch of fabric. She shrugged, and ran a hand through her long brown hair.

  "Wherever you're going, let me hail a cab and I'll escort you there," Shamus suggested, giving her that sexy, dimpled smile she adored looking at.

  "Do you have a mobile phone on you?" she asked hopefully.

  Shamus shook his head. "I haven't really had a need for one."

  Suzanne eyed him suspiciously. "So how are we going to get a cab here?"

  "We’ll hail the next one to pass along," Shamus replied simply.

  Suzanne's head fell back and she laughed wholeheartedly. "I've been walking for nearly an hour now, and have yet to see a single cab. I don't really think this area is a favourite of cab drivers. If you are lucky enough to get us a cab, I'd be a fool to turn it down." It suddenly occurred to her that this was the second time she had run into him in this part of town this week. Did he live around here? Like the other day he seemed to simply pop out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly. Odd.

  Taking a moment she gave him a quick once-over. He looked good, she'd give him that. Green again. The shirt was green and made of soft, fine cotton. She'd admired the soft feel of the fabric when her arms slid around his neck earlier. The black slacks fell loosely down his long, muscular legs. She wou
ld have giggled, like she had the other day, had she not prepared herself for the shoes. He wore the same black Doc Martens-style shoes with the large golden buckles. She made a mental note to ask about the shoes, if it came to the point where she was comfortable enough with him to do so.

  "Well, what do you know," Shamus said, brushing up against her as he made his way to the curb, waving his hand to signal the cab coming down the street, in their direction.

  "What are the chances?" Suzanne whispered awestricken as the bright yellow cab with the name Boston's Finest slowed as it approached them.

  "Quite good with luck on our side." Shamus gave her a wide, friendly smile and a wink.

  Suzanne found herself chuckling as she hobbled to the curb just as the cab pulled up.

  Shamus opened the back door for her, placing a hand on her elbow to assist her into the car. Once in, he slid in beside her and closed the door.

  "The nearest open service station please," Suzanne requested as she relaxed back in the worn, cracked leather of the back seat. At that moment she felt the intense throbbing on the soles of her feet; the back of the cab couldn't have felt better than if it were the back of a posh limo. A sigh escaped her lips as she let her head fall back against the headrest and closed her eyes momentarily.

  She tilted her head to the right to look at him. He seemed to sense her observing him and met her gaze. His eyes were warm, kind, and seemed to hold a mischievous glimmer in them. Looking over his wardrobe, simple yet finely tailored, she seriously doubted he lived in this area. But where did he come from?

  She decided she had to find out. "So do you live around here Shamus?"

  He smiled then shook his head. "No."

  Hmm, so you're not going to reveal that information so easily huh? In that case, I'll just ask you directly. "So where do you live, if you don't mind me asking?" The taxi drove past the station she was planning on walking to. It was closed. She was again thankful she had come across Shamus and the cab, since she had no idea where the next station would be.