by Mia Harlan
Before I can think better of it, I streak from under the couch. Which is when I realize my mistake: Violet isn’t looking at Liam, she’s looking at Bert. And Liam is looking at me.
“Violet?” he demands. His menacing frown disappears, and his eyes soften.
He looks even taller from my skunk vantage point and so broad-shouldered he’s built like a tree. A tree I’d very much like to scale. His giant hands—one obviously bruised, knuckles bloodied—are bunched into fists. And his plump, kissable lips are parted in surprise.
“What’s going on here?” he demands, sounding very much like the officer that he is.
Violet glances at him, then follows his line of sight, and sees me. Skunk me out in the open, instead of hiding under the couch like I was supposed to. Shit!
What do I do? What do I do?!?!
There’s only one thing to do: shift. Into Violet.
Liam’s eyes widen. So do Bert’s.
“We’re twins, dear,” I say the first thing that comes to mind. Five points. Then I gesture toward Violet with my chin. “That’s my sister... Birdie.”
I haven’t a clue where I get that name from, but the guys seem to buy it.
“Birdie,” Bert turns to her, staring at her in awe. “Promise to spend eternity with me.”
My eyes widen. So do Violet’s. My heart fills with hope, but she does not look happy.
“Eternity?” she demands.
Bert nods emphatically.
“What do you think this is, boys? Seduce a Grandma Day?”
“No, ma’am,” Liam says quickly.
“And only one of us is a boy,” Bert adds. “I’m three hundred and twenty-seven. Counted it this morning when this one accused me of looking over four hundred.” He jerks his thumb at Liam.
I mentally give Bert twenty points for practically reeking of old age. There’s just something about the way he holds himself, the way he speaks, that lets him look like he’s in his twenties and still sound ancient. Unlike Cash, who sounded like a normal guy in his twenties—for the most part, anyway.
“Oh Birdie, shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” he asks Violet, reaching for her hand.
“No. No. No. No. No.” Violet shakes her head vehemently. “Get out of our apartment. Go!”
Liam looks from her, to Bert, and then his eyes land on me. He looks like he’s silently pleading for something, I just don’t know what. All I can think about is how this is Violet’s chance. If Bert turns her, she won’t grow older. She won’t die. I won’t have to lose her.
“V-Birdie, maybe you should listen to him. He could turn you.” I worry that I might have offended Bert, but he doesn’t hesitate.
“Gladly. Without a second thought,” he cries. “I’ll turn you and your sister, both.”
“No.” Violet shakes her head again, then turns to me. “We talked about this, Violet. And I already said no.”
“But this is different! This time, he’s your mate.”
“I already had a mate. We lived a long, happy life together. We had a child, I had a job I loved. I did everything I wanted to do in life, and I’m ready to be with them again.”
Tears spring to my eyes. One moment of hope. One moment thinking I might get to keep Violet a little longer. But I won’t, will I? And neither will Bert, I realize, when I see the heartbroken look on his face. It’s honestly enough to break my heart, all on its own.
“It’s alright, little mate,” Liam pulls me into his side. Like I don’t still look eighty-years-old, or maybe like he doesn’t care.
“Please, Birdie!” Bert drops on one knee in front of Violet. “Give me a chance to prove I can make you happy.”
“I said no.” Violet grabs my purse from the coffee table and raises it. “Now go, before I make you go.”
“Please, my love.” Bert grabs her other hand and kisses it.
Violet’s eyes narrow.
“Thou art more lovely and more temperate,” he starts waxing poetically again. His words sound familiar, and Violet glances at the book of Shakespeare sonnets that’s on the coffee table.
“Don’t you try to trick me with your pretty words,” she shouts, lifting the purse. And then she bashes him over the head.
“Birdie, please!” Bert cries, jumps to his feet.
“Don’t you Birdie me,” Violet shouts, lifting the purse in warning. “Get out. Now!”
“Violet?” Liam pleads, and I realize he’s talking to me. And that he still has his arm around me. And that I’m leaning into his side.
He makes me feel safe. Makes me feel warm. Makes me feel like I can trust him, when I hardly even know the guy. It’s that last thought that has me pulling away from him, stepping back, shaking my head.
He and I would never work. Not when I have to hide who I am. Not while they are still after me. Not when I’ll always have to keep running, keep hiding.
“Just go,” I whisper, trying not to cry.
Chapter 12
Violet
The next morning, I help Violet get settled on the couch and head to work. I get as far as the elevator, then stop short when I see the out-of-order sign. Not again!
Hopefully it’s wrong this time. Or it went out of order last night and the landlord had it fixed. A chameleon can dream.
I cross my fingers for luck and push the elevator button. Nothing happens. I push it again. No light. No creaking. No clanking. Definitely no elevator.
Now what?
And why does stuff like this always happen on weekday mornings? Why not in the afternoon or on a weekend, when it’s less inconvenient? And am I really this upset over a broken elevator, or am I still hurt because Violet wouldn’t let Bert turn her—and refused to talk about it after he left?
It’s so frustrating I almost take a page out of my sister’s book and shift into a troll. My troll. Liam.
The mere thought of his strong, muscular arm wrapped around me makes me feel warm all over. Butterflies flutter in my stomach. A wave of excitement courses through me. And I can’t stop thinking about how safe I felt in his arms... even if it was just for a few brief minutes.
The tension seeps out of me, but I still have the elevator problem to deal with.
“Hello?” I shout, my voice echoing down the stairs.
I’m greeted by utter and complete silence.
Should I just head home? Bang on apartment 4A, where Calluna lives, and hope she’s around?
I definitely can’t stay here until someone fixes the elevator. It could take days! And I can’t carry my walker down the stairs, either. Not as eighty-year-old Violet. Should I just half-shift and pray to every chameleon god imaginable that no one notices? Nope, not worth the risk.
“Could someone help me down?” I shout instead.
“You could just walk. It’s good exercise!” a familiar voice calls back up.
“April June?” I ask, just to be sure.
“Violet?” Her footsteps echo up the stairs, and she comes into view. She’s dressed for work with her dark hair tied back and a beige blazer over a shirt the color of juniper berries. I’m always surprised that, although she runs a sex toy shop, she dresses like she works in an office. Guess a business is a business.
“April June, dear. Thank goodness!” Ten points. Plus a surge of relief, because my downstairs neighbor is a witch. An odd witch, but one who’s helped me out when the elevator broke in the past.
“Are you stuck again?”
“I am. Do you think you could be a dear and use those magic massage sticks of yours to carry me downstairs?” Of course I know they’re dildos, but I’m not ruining my sweet old lady image by saying so. Plus, that’s twenty points right there! That and beggars can’t be choosers, as Violet likes to say—definitely another ten points, assuming my thoughts count. I need to get downstairs somehow.
“Coming right up: one fleet of long, hard sticks for you to ride.” April June grins. She snaps her fingers, and a slew of colorful dildos race up the stairs, flying on gossamer win
gs like fairies.
A pink, ribbed dildo swoops under me, and two purple rabbits—the kind with g spot vibrators—dive head-first under my armpits. I really hope they’re not used dildos or, at least, that she cleans them properly each time. Except I’m not supposed to know they’re sex toys, so I can’t actually ask.
The dildos lift me into the air, their wings fluttering against my armpits and behind. I feel a moment of vertigo—and hope it’s the good kind, like riding a roller coaster. Not the bad kind, where an old lady has a heart attack and dies while riding three dildos. Which I’m sure would make some reporter really happy.
I squeal when three more dildos swoop up the stairs and settle under my butt and thighs to lift me higher off the floor. One starts vibrating, and I yelp.
“Sorry,” April June says. “They get excited sometimes when they’re close to a woman.”
Her words make me want to buy one for myself, but it won’t look good if someone sees me entering a sex shop. Eighty-year-old women don’t do that, do they? Even if they do, where would I even use a dildo? I don’t mean on my body—I know where they go—I’m talking location. Do I use one at home with Violet in the other room? Do I store it in my purse? The bathroom? And what if it suddenly vibrates or grows wings?
April June snaps her fingers, and the vibrating dildo stills. I’m disappointed, but also a whole lot more comfortable.
I float down the rest of the stairs, and the dildos set me down on the first floor landing. Still alive, still breathing, and still in one piece.
“Dildo Daggins, Doctor Screw, and The Bob are bringing your walker. Just hold tight,” April June calls down, but I’m no longer paying attention. Because I have this distinct feeling that I’m being watched.
Is it just a curious neighbor who saw an old lady floating down on a bunch of extra large sex toys?
I glance out the front door, but there’s no one around. No one in front of the bushes, or peeking out from behind one of the parked cars.
“Did you see someone out there?” April June asks when she joins me. Her voice is tense, and it almost sounds like maybe she and I are on the same page.
“Do you feel like we’re being watched?” I ask.
Did they track me down? Is this it?
Am I going to die without ever seeing Nole again? Or getting to know Liam? Or having lunch with Cash? Not that I planned to do any of those things—aside from seeing Nole at work—since I’m supposed to be staying away from them.
I’m just not ready to die. I want to turn twenty-one and order drinks without a fake ID. I want to grow old. Make memories. Live my life the way Violet told me to.
“It’s probably the weather and your old bones,” April June says. Which makes absolutely no sense. I think my facial expression shows it, because she adds, “Your old bones feel when rain is coming, but you’re just mistaking it for being watched.”
I look up at the white, fluffy clouds and then back at April June, whose eyes quickly dart to the bushes and back again.
“It’s these clouds. Sometimes they make you feel paranoid,” she mutters, before turning around and heading back toward the stairs, a flock of dildos following her. “Have a good day at work, Violet.”
I almost shout after her, begging to take me with her. But what would be the point of having dildos carry me back upstairs if they found me? I’m better off going out there. If they attack, I could always turn into a bird shifter or try to fight them off as Liam.
I take my time maneuvering my walker out the door. A woman walking a pig off-leash strolls past, followed by a middle-aged man in a business suit, but neither stops to look around. I keep expecting them to attack, but no one jumps out from behind the bushes or one of the parked cars.
Was April June right? Was it something to do with the rain and the clouds? Or is it just my mind playing tricks?
When I first went on the run, I used to feel like this constantly. Paranoid. Scared. Ready for it all to be over at a moment’s notice. I shouldn’t be surprised it’s happening again. Especially after the day I had yesterday.
So if it is all in my head, all I have to do is keep up my disguise. If I stick to my role of old town librarian, I’ll be safe.
Chapter 13
Violet
The feeling of being watched goes away as I slowly shuffle to work, and other worries take its place. I think back to last night and how adamantly Violet rejected Bert. I’ve always known I wouldn’t be able to keep her forever, but it was in that moment that I realized how little time we truly have.
I’ll miss her so much once she’s gone. Miss my life here in Silver Springs. Miss the way things are.
Since I won’t be able to shift into her anymore, I won’t have any choice but to skip town. I have my bag packed and waiting for me in the hall closet: a ticking time bomb, a reminder that I’ll be leaving Silver Springs, and my job at Spell Library, behind.
I can’t imagine never working with Nole again. Seeing him has been something I’ve looked forward to everyday for almost a year. And if leaving wasn’t hard enough already, I had to meet Liam... and Cash. My fated mates.
I’ve been trying not to think about it too much over the last day, but the truth is, I want to get to know them. I want to go to lunch with Cash and find out what Liam wanted to talk about last night. More than anything, I just want to see them again.
But what would be the point? I’m leaving anyway, and the more time I spend with them, the more I’ll get attached. And the more likely I am to accidentally shift and risk them finding me.
The best thing to do would be to keep my distance from the guys. Let them find Violet’s body when the day comes. They won’t even realize I skipped town—except maybe Liam and Bert, but they’ll be out looking for an old lady named Birdie.
My heart hurts when I enter Spell Library. The main floor is silent—Nole doesn’t start his shift for another half hour, assuming he’s on time today—and there’s no sign of Stacks. I slowly make my way to the front desk, lost in thought, and let out a yelp when I nearly run over the bear shifter with my walker.
“Nole?” I scream as my front wheels crash against his side. For a split second, my heart stops, and I find I can’t breathe.
“What? Huh? Oh, hi, Violet!” He sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and my heart restarts again. It pounds wildly against my ribcage, and my old legs turn into jelly. Because for a split second, I’d thought they found me, and they’d decided to go through the bear shifter to get to me. And in that split second, I’d wanted to destroy them and then die right along with him.
“Did you spend the night here?” I sag against my walker in relief.
Nole shakes his head. “I didn’t want to be late, so I ended up getting here early. I must have dozed off while Stacks and I were playing catch.”
At the sound of his name, the library cat comes charging across the carpeted floor. He crashes head-first into Nole’s leg, plants his front paws on the bear shifter’s knee, and drops a light-blue rubber bone on his lap.
“Good boy, Stacks!” Nole scratches the cat roughly behind both ears. Then, he chucks the chew toy toward the Romance section. “Fetch!”
“You bought him a toy?” My heart melts as Stacks takes off, his little paws zooming across the carpet.
“I picked up a ball of yarn, too, but the little guy went right for the dog toy.” Nole grins when Stacks returns with the rubber bone between his teeth. “Wanna give it a go?”
“Sure... dear.” Five points. Nice save. Because for a second there, I almost forgot who I was... or who I was supposed to be.
Nole and Stacks play tug-of-war with the chew toy for a bit, and then the bear shifter hands it to me. Our fingers touch briefly during the exchange, and tingles shoot up my arm.
Why do I keep reacting this way to him? He’s not even my mate! That and the feeling is definitely not mutual. Because. I. Look. Eighty!
I wind back my arm and toss the rubber bone with all the frustration I feel...
only to watch it land a foot in front of me with a hollow plop while my shoulder throbs. Stacks pounces on it, seems to remember he’s supposed to be a dog, not a cat, and attacks the toy with his teeth instead of claws. Then he carries the chew toy back to me, tail wagging, and drops it off at my feet.
“Try again?” Nole asks, like that wasn’t absolutely embarrassing.
I shake my head. “No, you go ahead, dear.” Five points.
Nole throws the toy. Then he looks me over, and my heart skips a beat.
“Are you feeling better today, Violet?” he asks, because I still look eighty and he’s just a nice guy who’s worried about my health. Obviously.
“Much. Thank you for asking.” I nod. “How did the rest of your shift go yesterday?”
“It got really busy in the afternoon, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” Nole grins. “I had to kick out that angel from Stone Hill High again for causing trouble. Helped a moose shifter start on his family tree.” He pauses to think. “Oh, and lots of high school kids were asking for books about outer space.”
“I’ll make sure to put a bunch of astronomy books on display.”
“Already done.” Nole winks at me and I feel a bit weak in the knees.
“Y-you’d make an amazing librarian, you know,” I tell him, trying hard not to blush.
“I’ll think about it.” Nole picks up the toy Stacks just brought back and tosses it again. Watching him play with the library cat warms my heart. I can’t help chuckling at Stacks’s antics and noticing how adorable Nole looks with his long hair tied back and his gray shirt and white plaid shorts tinted pink.
“Did the hair growth formula work?” I ask, hoping he managed to get his brothers back for what they did to his clothes.
“Not yet. I poured it into the body wash this morning while they were asleep.” Nole throws the chew toy for Stacks one more time and we watch him run off.
“I really hope it works,” I tell him, wondering if I’ll ever get to see for myself.
“So do I.” Nole grins up at me, and my heart flutters in my chest.
