by Chant, Zoe
Be logical. Be rational. What’s the first thing you need to know?
“What are you?” she blurted out, realizing even as she said it that this was hardly the most tactful way of asking. “I mean – what I mean is –”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Hector said, shaking his head. “I get it. And to be honest, in a lot of ways, your guess is as good as mine. This is just how I’ve always been. How all of us have always been.”
“So… you were born this way?” Myrtle asked. “You didn’t, like… get bitten by a were-griffin during a full moon or something?”
Hector laughed, the sound deep and rich. It sent a warm shiver straight up Myrtle’s spine.
“Nope, nothing like that. It runs in the family. My parents were shifters, and so were my grandparents, all the way back as far as anyone can remember. Which is pretty far back.” He cocked his head slightly. “My great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather was one of the first convicts to be transported to Australia. Seems like he couldn’t stay out of trouble, though, and he went on the lam after getting his ticket of leave and did some pretty minor bushranging with some other escaped convicts. He eventually settled down with the local Indigenous people, had a wife and kids, and learned how to live off the land – that if you take care of it, it’ll take care of you. He never went back to the colony. So that’s where I came from. Well, eventually.”
“And you don’t know which side of the family it came from? His or his wife’s?” Myrtle asked.
Hector shook his head. “No. There’s shifters all over the world, so it could have been either. Or maybe both. If anyone knew, that’s been lost now.”
Myrtle swallowed. Hector’s tone was open and candid. It seemed that he really did want to tell her everything, or as much as he knew, anyway. She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, but then, hadn’t she seen it with her own eyes?
She’d just been telling herself she was a scientist. Hector’s story might have been unbelievable if it had just been words, but she’d seen the proof with her own eyes.
You rode around on the proof of it, she reminded herself. You flew across the sky on the proof of it. It’s a bit late to start doubting the evidence now.
“I assume there have to be other people like you,” Myrtle said. “Are they all griffins, or do some of you turn into other things?”
“No, there’s all sorts. Koala shifters, possum shifters, Tasmanian devil shifters, crocodile shifters. And a lot more. I’m a bit unusual, even for us, but there’s plenty of others who shift into creatures I guess you’d say were mythical. There’s others, too – I’ve got a mate who turns into a diprotodon. You know, the giant prehistoric wombat. He’s the size of a rhino when he’s shifted.”
Myrtle decided she’d deal with that information later. “And you’re really a cop? A… a griffin cop?”
“Not strictly speaking,” Hector said. “But I am in law enforcement. That’s what I’m doing out here. One of our deep undercover agents passed us word about what those bikies were claiming to be selling, but we didn’t really think it was genuine. Like I said, no one’s seen a pegasus in centuries. But what made us interested was that the bikies seemed to have a pretty serious buyer lined up. That was who I was after.”
“Oh. Huh.” Myrtle looked down, biting her lip. “I guess I messed that up pretty good.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Hector said quickly. “You had no idea. The bikies heard your accent and jumped to the wrong conclusion. You didn’t know what you were getting into the middle of.”
“I suppose,” Myrtle said reluctantly. She frowned as she thought over what Hector had said. “Well, obviously the buyer would have to be someone who’d have the money to pay for it, which I guess isn’t that useful information. But they’d also have to know what a pegasus was. If everyone thought they were extinct, and shifters are that secretive, then it’d have to be someone with a bit of insider knowledge.”
Hector nodded. “You can see why we were interested. Animal smuggling in Australia’s a big problem to start with, but that’s an issue for the regular cops. But when there’s a shifter involved, then it becomes my problem.”
Myrtle blinked, about to ask another question, before the full implication of Hector’s words dawned on her. “Wait, a shifter? You mean… Ruby’s like you? She could shift into an actual baby at any moment?”
Hector hesitated. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Most shifters don’t start shifting until they’re in their teens, at least. It’s not something that’s easy to do – it’d never happen accidentally. It needs concentration and training.”
“So did you start off as a tiny baby griffin?” Myrtle asked. She tried to picture it, and failed miserably.
“Nah, not me,” Hector said. “My mum gave birth the normal way, no eggs, no hatching. I had to learn how to go from human to griffin. I guess for Ruby it’ll be the other way around. Maybe that’s just what pegasi are like.”
Myrtle nodded. It sounded fantastical, but she could accept it. Given everything she’d seen over the past few hours, she didn’t really have much choice.
And she supposed what Hector had been telling her about being in law enforcement made sense, too. Shifter cops for shifter crimes. She couldn’t imagine how the regular cops might react to a baby pegasus popping out of an egg. Law and Order: Special Shifters Unit made sense, even as it raised a lot more questions than it answered. If there were shifter law enforcement agencies, did that mean the government knew about them?
Maybe it’s like aliens, she thought, head spinning. The president finds out about shifters the same day as they tell him what really happened at Roswell and what Area 51 is all about.
“So… your family… have they always been in this line of work, then?”
Hector shook his head. “Our family’ve been stockmen for decades – we come from a long line of boss drovers. Me and my brother Rhys are the first ones who aren’t working on a farm.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend my dad was thrilled when me and Rhys went and told him neither of us would be taking over the family business, but luckily we have a sister who’s twice the farmhand either of us ever were. She’s running the place now. Most shifters are just like them, just wanting to live their lives in peace. If you passed one on the street, you’d never know it. I mean, provided they weren’t a dragon at the time or something.”
“Yeah, I hope I’d notice that,” Myrtle said, even as her brain shrieked, A DRAGON?!
“I’d say so,” Hector laughed. “Is there anything else I can answer for you?”
There were lots of things, actually, but Myrtle decided she’d learned enough for now. Her head was already spinning. Anything else and she thought it might fly right off her neck.
“No,” she said. “I think… well, I think that’s enough for now.”
Hector nodded, his eyes intense. Myrtle swallowed as she looked at him.
“If you don’t have any more questions, then I think there’s something I need to get off my chest,” he said.
Something about the way he said it made Myrtle need to take a deep, deep breath.
He’d been polite enough not to bring up her half-dazed macking on him earlier; perhaps he was about to tell her he was flattered, but he already had a gorgeous Australian girlfriend who was a mermaid shifter and competitive swimmer who supermodeled in her spare time, Myrtle thought, allowing her eyes to drift down over his body. Or he’s gay, and he’s going out with a long-lost Hemsworth brother. That’s the kind of partner he’d have. Not a nerdy bug scientist who can’t even control her frizzy hair.
Myrtle swallowed, and looked away.
“I think I know what you’re going to say,” she blurted out. She was the one who’d forced the kiss on him, after all – the least she could do was show a bit of grace and apologize. “And I want to say right away that I’m sorry. I guess I just… had had a bit of a shock. I – I misread things. I really hope I haven’t made things awkward between us. I can
promise you it won’t happen again.”
She didn’t dare look up. Embarrassment twisted in her stomach. She’d never been good at this kind of thing – or, well, any other kind of social interaction, really. That was why she liked moths. She sincerely doubted she was ever going to accidentally kiss a moth.
Eventually, however, the silence had continued long enough that Myrtle chanced a glance upward at Hector’s face, and found him frowning in confusion.
“Sorry, what?”
Myrtle blinked. God, he’s not going to make this easy, is he.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “About what happened back there.”
Nothing. His face was blank.
“The kiss!” she finally said, throwing her hands up. “I wanted to say I was sorry about the kiss!”
Hector looked thunderstruck.
“You wanted to apologize about the kiss?” he asked, enunciating each syllable as if he’d never heard quite those words in quite that order before. “Why?”
Now it was Myrtle’s turn to feel completely flummoxed. She could feel her face going red.
“Well, it wasn’t very professional of me, was it?” she said. “You were trying to get us out of a dangerous situation, and all I was doing was… well, that, and besides which, you can’t just go around kissing people. Especially not when I’m this… and you’re… that…”
She gestured helplessly to all Hector’s that, hoping he would understand and drop the subject. She’d humiliated herself enough for one evening, hadn’t she?
Hector stared at her a moment longer, before shaking his head.
“No, no, no. I think we’re getting our wires crossed here, Myrtle. I don’t have a problem with the kiss. The opposite, even.” He glanced at her, before looking away again. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this. So I’m just gonna come right out and say it.”
Myrtle was too confused even to anticipate what he might say next. He leaned toward her, taking her hand. Myrtle gasped at the contact, a warm jolt shooting up her arm.
“Myrtle,” he said, his voice husky. “You’re my mate.”
Myrtle blinked at him. His… his what?
Then it came to her.
“Oh – right,” she stuttered. “That’s some Australian thing, isn’t it? Like we’re friends now. We’re mates. Okay, well, I guess that’s cool.”
She was glad he was willing to put this whole thing behind them and move on. Though she didn’t quite understand why Hector was staring at her now with an intensity that bordered on desperation.
“That’s not what I mean,” he said. “I mean you’re my mate, in the shifter sense of the word.”
The shifter sense of the word?
Myrtle was about to ask what on earth he was talking about, when he continued.
“We shifters… the fact we can change forms isn’t the only way we’re different from humans. We also have a mate – a person that’s meant for us.”
Myrtle felt her mouth go dry. Hector’s gaze didn’t waver, his fingers tight around her own.
“A mate is someone you can give yourself to, and know it’s forever.” Hector paused, taking a deep breath. “That’s what I mean when I say you’re my mate, Myrtle. I knew it from the first moment our fingers touched. My griffin knew it.”
Myrtle swallowed heavily. Her mind drifted back to that moment, and she recalled the weird spark of electricity that had seemed to run through her body when Hector’s hand had brushed hers, and how her skin had tingled every time since then that she’d touched him.
Oh my God.
“I know this is a lot to spring on you,” Hector said. “Especially with everything else that’s been going on tonight. I get it if you need some time to think about it.”
Myrtle could feel her mouth hanging open, but just now she felt powerless to close it.
I’m… I’m his mate?!
She shook her head. Pegasi she could accept. Griffins, too. But this?
Grappling to get some angle on the situation she could handle, Myrtle asked, “So, who you’re meant to be with is just like… coded into your DNA?”
“If you’re looking for a technical explanation, I’m afraid you’ve got Buckley’s of getting one out of me,” Hector said.
“I’m just going to assume that means you don’t know,” Myrtle said slowly. “Aren’t you curious about it though?”
“I suppose.” Hector shrugged. “It’s just something I’ve always known about. Do humans ever wonder why they fall in love?”
“I guess not,” Myrtle admitted. “The scientist in me wants to put it all down to brain chemistry, something to motivate reproduction. But maybe that’s just because I’ve always been unlucky in love. It seems easier to accept if you put it down to something impersonal like dopamine.”
Hector laughed. “Unlucky in love? That’s hard to believe.”
Myrtle’s breath caught as his eyes unabashedly roamed down her body.
“I would’ve thought a knockout like you would’ve had the boys eating out of her hand.”
Flushing, Myrtle looked down. Is he serious?
She’d never thought of herself as anything special. Why would she? All her siblings were more attractive, more popular, more everything than she was. After all, she supposed, This is Lily and her four adorable daughters, and This is our son Thorn, he’s on a football scholarship, and Here’s the catalog spread Poppy did last year, doesn’t she look beautiful? all sounded a little more impressive than, This is Myrtle, she’s a Moth Lady.
So to hear a man like Hector say she should’ve had the boys eating out of her hand… well.
Excuse her if she found it just a little hard to swallow.
“No,” she said. “I’m not – really, I’m just –”
“You’re perfect, Myrtle.” Hector’s voice was a low rumble. “Before I even knew you were my mate I couldn’t stop myself from checking you out. You’re smart, you’re dedicated, you’re brave. And you’re beautiful. That’s all I need to know, never mind what my griffin or my DNA has to say about it.”
As if compelled by some inexorable force, Myrtle lifted her eyes to his. She could see the truth of what he said, reflected back to her in them – they were like dark pools of desire, looking directly into her soul.
Okay. Wow.
She’d done it before, so it seemed easy to do it again – without another word she leaned forward to kiss him, sweeping her tongue into his mouth. His lips were hot against hers as he opened them, his hand coming up to hold her jaw, his thumb running gently over her cheek.
Myrtle swallowed when she pulled back, stunned by her own boldness, but the look on Hector’s face quickly put paid to any fears she had that she’d overstepped any boundaries. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her all up – and maybe he did.
His lips were on hers again before she could think, hot and insistent. His palm against her face was warm and slightly rough, callused, she imagined, from years of farm work and then hunting down criminals. It sent a shiver down her spine, warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach, winding down between her legs.
She could already feel her desire building within her – hell, it had been building since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. She still didn’t know what to make of this whole mates thing, but she did know she wanted him. She wanted him more desperately than she’d ever wanted anything before in her life.
Hector’s hand was on the small of her back, pulling her forward against him as their kisses grew hungrier, more insistent. Myrtle threw her head back, letting her desire overtake her and carry her away as Hector kissed her jaw, before pulling aside the collar of the oversized sweater and making his way down her neck, his lips gentle on her sunburned skin. But even that just made her shiver, her blood surging in her veins. She pulled at the sweater, lifting it over her head, and regretting even the moment’s pause it caused in his kisses. Her heart hammered in her chest as his lips dropped lower and lower, skimming the tops of her breasts above the neckline
of her tank top.
“Oh, God,” she breathed, closing her eyes.
She wanted to feel his bare skin against hers, wanted to feel him against her. Desperation welled up inside her, and, forgetting herself, she tugged at the bottom of her tank top, trying to get it up over her head.
She was stopped by Hector’s low, husky laugh, and then, a second later, by his hand on hers, so huge it covered hers completely.
“That’s my job,” he said, a smile in his voice – and, when Myrtle opened her eyes to look at him, on his lips, too.
She almost groaned out loud at the sight of him, his features bathed in starlight, a dimple creasing his stubbled cheek, his lightly curled hair falling over his forehead and into his dark eyes.
His hands were confident and sure as he lifted her tank top up over her head, exposing her breasts in their white cotton bra. Myrtle at least was aware that Mother Nature had blessed her in this area, even if, unlike her sisters, she also had a belly to go along with her breasts. In the past, she’d always felt a little embarrassed by how she looked naked – she’d never wanted the lights on when she slept with her ex-boyfriends, on the very few occasions it’d actually happened – but the way Hector was looking at her now put any thought of embarrassment completely out of her mind.
He was staring at her as if completely transfixed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed heavily.
“You’re beautiful,” he said slowly. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Myrtle couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the corners of her lips.
“Really?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking, and Hector looked up at her, eyes wide.
“Of course,” he said, as if the question surprised him. “You’re gorgeous – you’re everything a woman should be. Everything I’ve always dreamed my mate would be.”
She supposed she could see the evidence of that pressing against the front of his jeans. Her mouth watered a little as she took in the sizable bulge, desire mounting within her.
