by LeAnn Mason
“Do you think that will happen?” That’s a worrisome thought… “I mean, I’m no threat to you, or them, at all. I just find this all so fascinating. And with Allya being here and my parents gone…” A defeated shrug hiked up my shoulders, and my eyes cast downward to focus on my idle hands so that I could hopefully stem the tide of tears that threatened me once again.
“You’re a sweet girl, Mae. I know that many will not have issue with the wool being taken from your eyes. But,” Marie held up a manicured finger, “know that not everyone will see it as acceptable. You need to prepare for that. There are people like that everywhere—”
“Yeah, Griffin Morgan was one of those,” I interjected under my breath, blushing with embarrassment when I looked at her over the frames that were again halfway down my nose.
Her eyes missed nothing. An understanding smile tilted her lips before she continued. “Yes, you had a bad experience. But I cannot guarantee that you will not have another. It is the unfortunate truth of living. The difference here is that the people are the weapons. I will say that the Elders will not tolerate malicious cruelty within Grimm Hollow. I would make sure you want this life before you truly immerse yourself in it. Think on it, Mae. Use your time back home to make a clear-headed decision about your future.”
“That is very sound advice, Marie. Thank you.”
“If you wish to return to Grimm Hollow after the funeral, you will have a job waiting here for you. I hope to see you again. Have a good day.” She rose fluidly, pushing her tortoiseshell frames up her nose, smoothed out her clothes, and strode away further into the magical land of books that she inhabited.
I turned the opposite direction with a little more pep in my step, maybe even a dance move or two as I let myself back out into the light of a beautiful autumn day to send a quick text to Allya. Was it naturally like this, or was the weather maybe… magically enhanced? I’d have to ask Elsie or Allya about it. While I was at it, maybe I’d also ask about what Marie was and what that meant. She’d just… looked at me and deemed me worthy. How?
Lost in my thoughts, I stood at the base of the steps to the Archives without noticing much of anything. Could I improve the odds for myself if some supernatural being decided to take offense to my being in their home? Did I want to? There was no easy answer to either question, and I sat my butt on the bottom step with a heavy sigh.
Lots to think about. So little time.
A beautiful chirping birdsong sounded what felt like right by my head. Swiveling, I searched for the source. I found it perched at the top of a chiseled column of the building. Brown and yellow, the bird was beautiful, its song mesmerizing. I wanted to hear more. Pushing up from the step, I began back up the stairs, my eyes never leaving the bird even as it fluttered past me, still singing.
Where is it going? Elsie and Allya still weren’t waiting at the curb, so I decided to take a quick detour and follow the bird. I sprinted back down the stairs, nearly rolling an ankle that would have sent me sprawling to the base, before continuing to the sidewalk. I nearly lost it when it hooked a sharp left and over a solid wall.
Cautiously, I peeked around a break in the wall, finding an open wrought-iron gate, unsure if I should follow, and gasped. Hand to my mouth, I was in awe of the beauty before me. It was a garden but more like an arboretum or botanical gardens. The space was massive, no inch uncultivated, and it was beautiful. I couldn’t stop my feet from moving forward, further into the space teeming with greenery and bursts of bright blooms. The scent of perfumed roses invaded my nostrils, along with the vibrant scents of gardenia and honeysuckle. I spotted all the bushes emanating some of my most favorite smells. The air was thicker here, and I sensed a sweet and tangy hint of freshly cut grass among the blooms.
Spotting the leg of a gleaming wood bench, I made my way toward it, hoping to soak up the enchantment this place exuded. The bird’s song began again just as I rounded the corner, ready to be seated. Instead, I found the bird… perched on the extended finger of a very large, very surly looking guy.
CHAPTER 10
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here,” I stammered, taking several steps in reverse. “I was just following the bird,” I mumbled, completely embarrassed for having done so blindly.
“The bird?”
“Yeah, that one.” I pointed at the bird still singing from its fleshy perch.
“You like larks?”
“Is that what she is?”
The guy smiled, I think. A lot of teeth were showing, but he almost looked to be in pain. Blond hair with hints of about every other color was cut long enough for the strands to flop to his nose. When it did, he dragged a thick hand through the strands, pulling the mass back out of his face. Milk chocolate eyes met my gaze, the intensity in their depths making me quickly look elsewhere, anywhere else. He was thick and chiseled from his shoulders to his slippered feet.
“Why are you wearing slippers outside?”
He looked at his feet, lifting one up to inspect like he’d forgotten it was there. “These are my house shoes,” he said with finality. Like those five words should make perfect sense to me.
“Yeah… and you’re outside… in a garden,” I returned with incredulity. One that was too green and lively for the colder weather encroaching…
“At my home,” he threw my attitude right back at me.
“Your home?” I parroted, confused.
“Yes, my home. I am Rory Leone, heir to the Shifter throne. You are trespassing, and you want to lecture me about footwear?”
But of course, I would run into the prince of the Shifters in this town. Not just that, I’d done so by barging onto his property. A quick look showed an enormous castle-mansion built of what looked to be large white bricks. There were even towers lending to that castle look. Huge statues of maned lions topped the low stone railing leading back toward the immense structure.
“Ho-ly crap,” I breathed in awe. “I-I’m so sorry. I’m new here, and wow, yeah, I had no idea this was your property. I had an interview at the Archives and then the bird… Can I blame the bird?” Rambling nervously, I backed up again. “Oh, ouch! Holy wow, what the—”
In my haste to retreat, I’d backed off the pathway and into a very healthy rosebush. Thorns scraped every inch of my skin from calves to chest, opening wells of blood to pool at the surface, stinging as air met the lesions. Blindly batting at the grasping implements, I only entangled further. “Who has killer roses?” I screeched, embarrassment and anger boiling to a head. Why me?
“Settle, human,” Rory soothed with an irritated rumble. Large hands pressed to my shoulders, stopping my ineffectual flailing by pinning my arms to my sides. “Let me help.”
I feared that if I verbally answered, the sound I’d emit would be harmful to canines. I nodded and tried not to move too much. With swift and sure movements, his hands worked to free my body from the briars, leaving my body warm in their wake. This close, I noticed he had some stubbled growth surrounding his mouth and jaw. Maybe a day or two since he’s shaved. The short hairs glinted in the morning light, mimicking the spun gold hues of his satiny locks as he flicked them away from his eyes again. He had a small dimpled indention in his chin. Nothing too obvious, just a little hollow that my eyes couldn’t tear from.
“You all right?”
“I’m sorry, huh?” I asked dazedly.
“You’re staring.”
The little dimple pulled with his words, and I realized… I still stared.
Heat crawled up my cheeks. There was no way to play it cool. At least, not for me. I didn’t do cool. “Th-Thank you,” I stammered, swiping a hand absently across the other, hissing when the action brought a hearty sting. Looking at my palms, I was worried to see them smeared with light streaks of the rusty red indicative of blood. Flipping my hands, I noted several thin lines beading with the fluid, which explained the sensitivity.
“Mae!”
My head jerked toward where I’d entered this enchan
ted garden. Allya’s worried yell reached us as she careened onto the path. Eyes wild and glowing, she slid to a crouched halt facing where Rory and I still stood beside the roses, cuts forgotten.
A feral… roar left Rory’s throat, his chocolate eyes morphing to a burnished gold that glowed much like Allya’s. I couldn’t fathom what had Allya so worried until within a shower of golden sparks, the man disappeared… and a lion was at my side.
Where I'd felt safe only a moment before, I now trembled, caught between awe and fear. On one hand, I witnessed this man completely morph into an entirely different being in the blink of an eye. It was incredible.
On the other hand, I was now within swiping range of a freaking massive predator. I’d already had the misfortune of being in another’s grip. My shoulder throbbed with the memory.
This lion was as tall as I when his head came up as he delivered a deafening and gut-wrenching roar. The animal was warning Al, but why, I had no idea. Did he and she have some sort of history that would put him in such an aggressive mood? Did he care that I was still there, cut off from my friend? I stood zero chance against a pissed off lion. My experience in the eerie woods with the deranged Warlock taught me that.
“Wha-what's going on?” Allya blurted, still several feet from the agitated beast. “Mae, you all right?”
“Uh, yeah. He was fine…” just a moment ago. My words swung the lion's attention toward me again, and I stumbled under the intensity. I did not want to do anything to provoke him further. Although I had zero ideas concerning what had triggered him in the first place. I needed to learn more about the supernatural beings I was—or would be if I stayed—surrounded by. Ignorance would get me killed in a heartbeat.
“Hey! No!” Allya clapped her hands to distract Rory from my flailing. It worked. The beast took a short lunge in her direction, allowing me to skirt around behind him to a stone pathway circling the seating area where we'd been speaking. I scurried as quickly and quietly as I could manage. The walk brought me around a lovely water feature, but I didn't have the time or the inclination to stop and admire it, let alone determine the stone effigy. I made it to stand just behind Allya. Her hand came to wrap around my wrist before she took a slow, calculated step backward. Squeezing my wrist, Allya asked me to move with her.
A ground-shaking roar left the bronzed predator's maw, and the force of the sound burst into my ears, leaving them ringing. I would have felt it in my chest if Allya hadn't been in front of me, taking the brunt. She didn't look fazed though. The girl was eerily calm, smooth in her movements. Even as a horse-sized lion that looked like it wanted to eat whoever came close enough, Rory was beautiful. His thick mane blew in the wind with his erratic movements, reminding me of the classic images found on the covers of romance novels. A large, bare-chested man with a burnished gold swath of hair that flowed well past the shoulders. And of course, they had to flip it all around, wanting others to bask in their gloriousness.
Snort.
Another lunge and swipe. The animal yowled, a sad, keening sound, before his hind legs gave out. Now he sat, eyes glassy and unfocused. Then like a wrecking ball swinging toward an unsuspecting structure, he fell heavily to the path, unmoving.
“Oh, no! Is he dead?” I couldn't fathom the idea that the guy had just lost his life.
“Of course he's not dead.” A distinguished woman tutted from the mansion's veranda steps, striding brusquely toward where Rory lay in a heap. Kneeling, she pulled her hand through the long hairs of his full mane. The way she tended the downed animal made me think she was his family. Mother, maybe?
“Why are you trespassing on Shifter private property? You have no right to be here, and because you are, I had to tranquilize my son.”
Well, that answers that.
The woman seethed. Her voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. Her point came across clearly.
“We're very sorry, Mrs. Leone. It won't happen again, I swear. My friend here is new to Grimm Hollow and has much to learn about our town.”
“How would you know about how this town works, girl? Aren’t you, yourself, new here?” The woman scoffed with derision.
“Lorraine, please forgive them. They know not what they do,” Elsie soothed with a low chuckle as she pushed past where Allya and I were rooted. “Girls, would you please go get in the car? I'll be right behind you,” Elsie requested reasonably before returning her attention to the queen of the Shifters. I heard her ask “How is Ryan?” as Allya and I retreated past the stone archway where I'd entered only several minutes before.
“Ryan? Who's Ryan?” I asked Allya once we were ensconced within the vehicle and therefore out of earshot.
“The king of the Shifters. The head of the Sentinels... and the lion I shot in the shoulder when he fell for Seth's illusion and... attacked you.”
“Holy geez, do they know that I am the reason he's injured?” That was a weight I hadn't known landed on my shoulders until that moment. “They must hate me,” I whispered. How could Rory stand to be around me if he did know?
“He’s also Rory’s dad,” Allya added.
The driver door opened to Elsie pulling herself into the seat and starting the vehicle. The ride was awkward and quiet for the first several minutes before Elsie decided that the radio would help drown out the silence. It took only a moment more for my mouth to begin reciting my mind's questions. “Why did Rory become aggressive? We were fine one moment. I mean, he helped me remove myself from the rosebush-of-a-thousand-cuts. He looked so calm. Do all Shifters change forms so easily?”
“Oh man, friend fail,” Allya gasped, a look of minor horror fixed to her face. “I didn't even notice those cuts, the blood on you. Here, let me look.” She grabbed the arm closest to her and began inspecting the limb. Several thin lines etched the skin, almost artfully, beaded with drying blood. “This is where my Witchy heritage comes in. What's the Latin word for heal?"
“You think I just know Latin?” I deadpanned.
Her deliberately slow blinking and blank expression told me she did. "Fine. It's medeor. That's to fix, mend, remedy," I acquiesced reluctantly. Allya winked saucily, knowingly, at me before closing her eyes. Gripping my hands, she began a low chant.
Before my eyes, the skin knit together. The thin wounds latticing my hands lightened and then disappeared altogether. I flipped them back and forth, expecting to see some sign of the blemishes, but it was as if they’d never marred my flesh. “That is so awesome," I breathed. Awe colored my tone and caught Elsie's attention. She chuckled heartily when she realized Allya apparently hadn’t overstated my fascination with learning. 'You are perfect,' she'd clucked, happy that I wasn't traumatized by my experiences… yet.
I was more worried about the funeral.
CHAPTER 11
“So tell me again, Miss Randall, where have you been since six p.m. Friday, September eighteenth?”
“I’ve been staying with a friend, Allya Lightseeker,” I recounted. Again. I hadn’t made it longer than five minutes in the company of my sisters, of my parents’ closed caskets at the gravesite before several police had shown up and dragged me away for questioning. They didn’t even have the decency to wait until after the funeral. Just swooped in and dragged me away.
“Why did you leave town? Your house burned down. Both of your parents are… dead,” the detective attempted to guilt me. Again. It worked. I did feel guilty. It was my fault that they died. My fault that our family home, meager as it was, now resembled a long-dead beetle decomposed to the point only a crunchy, papery, black husk remained.
But I couldn’t tell anyone that. I couldn’t say that I’d watched the life bleed from my father. That I’d held my mother, lifeless, in my arms. I couldn’t say that I hadn’t done it. That the crazy, magic-wielding Warlock that they all believed to be an honest and upstanding normal pillar of the community had done it all and then absconded with me in order to lure his Shifter-Shaman-Witchy biological daughter back to his sadistic side.
Nope. Co
uldn’t say that. “I didn’t have a house anymore. It made more sense for me to stay with Allya than to worry about getting a hotel room, especially since I’m underage and would most likely have been turned away, regardless.”
“Now, is this friend,” the cop searched his notes briefly, eyes lighting when he came upon the needed information. “... Allya Lightseeker… Is she the same person whom you had spoken about at this very station, on several occasions in the last few weeks, and asked officers to do a welfare check?” Clinical, detached—that was the mark of this… investigator. He didn’t bother with good or bad cop. He didn’t try to be anything to me other than clinical.
Not yet.
How long would my evasion and non-answers placate him? He didn’t believe me. It was only a matter of time before his demeanor would change. A man could only be lied to for so long before he called bullshit. Especially a man trained to do so.
I was so screwed. If they busted out the polygraph, I’d most certainly fail. Maybe I could try to employ the methods used in certain heist films… but I’d need to research whether such methods were sound. And such research would only highlight my further attempts at subterfuge.
I’m so screwed. I was sweating under the hot, florescent long-bulbs hung overhead, maybe a bit from my current mental freak-out, but I thought I did a decent job at remaining outwardly calm. I needed to get back to Allya and Elsie. The two had been taken to additional, separate “interview rooms.” Showing up with the likes of me while my parents’ deaths were being investigated put them under the lens of scrutiny, too.
This had been a mistake. I should never have come home. How could I not be found guilty of lying?
I was. But again, how to tell the truth and yet… not? I’d need to give as much truth as I could and hope they were able to tie it all up with a pretty bow.
Well, maybe not a pretty bow…
“Mister Morgan was in my house. My mother was dead and my father dying. The fire started in the kitchen. I think whatever my father was cooking had burned and smoked, but I don’t know what happened after that.”