Col: His Destined Mate

by Georgette St. Clair

  Chapter Eleven

  TraceyAnn was on a tear this morning.

  Even Luna, who was normally oblivious to TraceyAnn’s bad moods — especially when they were directed at her — was steering clear. The lanky girl whispered to Lily, “what’s up with her, do you know?”

  Lily had to say yes, but she was quick to assure Luna, “Don’t worry, it’s about me.”

  Luna nodded. “It’ll blow over soon, I’m sure.”

  Lily wasn’t as certain. The previous night she had gone straight from the Staff Caff where Simon had made that amazing offer, and tried to talk with TraceyAnn about it.

  The result was…explosive.

  The older woman had thrown a grown-up temper tantrum in response to the news, her headdress bobbing with her fury.

  “I was counting on you, and you go and quit on me!” Her normally loud bellow was now approaching shriek level.

  “I’m not quitting,” Lily was quick to point out. “I was hired by Simon to—”

  “Oh, so now you’re on a first name basis with the owner now, are you? You just got yourself hired here to nab yourself a rich husband?” TraceyAnn’s face was mottled with fury, her bust heaving. Lily suspected that TraceyAnn’s tantrum was motivated by jealousy as much as it was annoyance over the inconvenience.

  Lily took a deep breath, lowering her voice in hopes that would help calm the woman, or at least, not alarm the kids.

  “It’s not like that. It just means a few hours a day, several times a week, and I’m still here for all the other hours that Staff Childcare is open.”

  Even that hadn’t mollified the woman, between her rants about how Lily—or Katie— knew that TraceyAnn was desperate for help, and to put her in this position was just beyond inconsiderate…and so on, until one of the kids drew Lily’s attention to a spill and TraceyAnn spent the rest of the evening in a huff.

  At least Lily had been able to get the woman to grudgingly confirm that Lily would be at Staff Childcare whenever she could, just not all the time as she had originally thought. It didn’t seem to help much. She got the sense that TraceyAnn was a glass half empty kind of person.

  In looking around Staff Childcare now, with Luna cleaning up the debris of the afternoon snacks and the mess she created when she accidentally dropped an open container of milk, TraceyAnn’s grumpiness was the only thing that kept the situation from being absolutely perfect for Lily.

  The sounds of cheerful kids, engaged in fun or educational activities all around her underscored what a dream job this would be. If it weren’t so close to where Rey could find her, she’d be happy to stay and make a new life here. TraceyAnn’s sour demeanor made it somewhat easier to remember all of this was temporary. But only somewhat.

  She looked at the clock, and then braced herself to remind TraceyAnn that she would be leaving in a few minutes for her first session “doing her magic” as Simon put it.

  “Well, don’t forget you promised to be back afterwards. I’m not going to be here past 9PM, and it’s only Luna on shift. And God help us all if she’s here by herself with the Terror Twins.” TraceyAnn glared at Luna, who fortunately paid her no mind. Possibly because she was busy picking up a box of crayons that she had knocked over when she tripped. Luna was a magnet for accidents, and being around these kids by herself was a disaster waiting to happen.

  “I’m going to be brought straight back afterwards,” Lily promised. She saw the older man with the brush cut from the other night heading towards the Center. ”In fact, that’s my ride right now.”

  “Well, hellllooooo there.” TraceyAnn’s demeanor suddenly did a 180 as Miller approached the door. She puffed up her chest and quickly straightened her three-sizes-too-small corset as the door opened and Miller entered.

  He lit up, spotting Lily, but TraceyAnn quickly got between them. “How are you doing, Miller?”

  Lily hid a smile at TraceyAnn’s flirtatious tone. She heard a small giggle behind her and knew it came from Luna.

  “No complaints,” Miller said, barely looking at her. His eyes met Lily’s over TraceyAnn’s shoulder.

  “I’m Miller Armstrong, Simon sent me to accompany you to the house.”

  “L—Katie Cooper,” Lily said, mentally kicking herself, but if Miller caught anything amiss he remained silent. Damn, she hated living a lie.

  TraceyAnn stuck a hand on her hip, jutting it out in a parody of a provocative Medieval Wench pose. “So, Miller, are you going to be at Ye Old Taverne tonight?”

  “No plans to.” Miller said. He might as well have said I would rather eat fried worms given how TraceyAnn seemed to visibly deflate.

  “Oh well, see you around,” she muttered, and shuffled over to Luna. Lily winced as she heard TraceyAnn loudly whisper “He’s playing hard to get!” to the girl, but this time there was a twinkle in Miller’s eyes.

  “Shall we, Ms. Cooper?” He smiled, and the laugh lines that crinkled around his eyes softened the toughness that he exuded.

  “Please, call me Katie.” Lily said, and left for her first session with the boys. She found herself hoping that the session would include the one whose eyes she still remembered.

  Col and Aylwyn shifted back into human form, after having completed three hours of patrolling the woods in wolf form.

  They had all been taking turns patrolling in teams of two, in case Col’s two abductors returned, or if there were any other clues that turned up that would help identify them or their purpose.

  So far they had turned up with naught.

  Once, Col had enjoyed these runs. Craved them even, for the peace that he felt when he let his wolf out to roam. These days, he felt strange and itchy and restless, no matter what form he was. For some reason, vague visions of the woman who’d spotted through the window kept flashing through his mind.

  Even in human form, they had exceptional hearing, which right now he wished weren’t so, as his ears perked to the sound of his name being bandied about. He walked through the doorway into the living room, Aylwyn beside him. Each step bringing him closer, enabling him to pick out voices. The other three Bredhren were talking about him in the kitchen. Nay, not talking. Complaining.

  Specifically Merek and Barric. Barric he expected, as Barric had nary a good thing to say about anyone, least of all the Second of the War-Pack. Barric felt the place should be his. Merek was deserving of a bit more notice.

  Merek and Barric were both talking to Tybalt, complaining that Col had been acting strangely. Distracted, irritable, prone to start fights for no reason. They were not wrong.

  “Oh, duuude.” Aylwyn elbowed him. “They’re throwing you under the bus.”

  Col wrinkled his brow in annoyance. “If they tried that, I would respond by lifting the bus and throwing it on to them.”

  Aylwyn threw back his head and bellowed in laughter, and Col clenched his fists with the effort of not punching the man.

  As soon as he entered the kitchen, the three looked up at him, as if the conversation he had overheard had not in truth taken place. To his surprise, Simon was seated with them, although he had not heard Simon’s voice or opinion on the matter of Col’s competence.

  Of course, the human had other things on his mind. While Merek had potentially lost his twin, Simon had not only lost his parents at the age of five, but also the entire community that had held a millennium’s worth of lore surrounding the sleeping Waryeors.

  Simon’s survival at such a young age meant that he carried the burden of inheriting a sacred role - but without the vital knowledge needed to tell him how to fulfill that role.

  As Col walked across the room, an intense wave of restlessness swept over him, confusing him. There were none but his Bredhren and Simon with him. He felt a prickling irritation under his skin, and a strange surge of emotion that he couldn’t name.

  He cleared his throat, struggling to keep his voice steady, even though, for reasons he didn’t understand, he wanted to growl and snap. He did not question them about what he’d overheard;
if they had concerns, then it was his Vixar’s place to address them. “What progress have you, Simon, with information about those tranquilzer darts?”

  Simon gave a wan smile. “Nothing from the lab where I sent it to be analyzed. They didn’t recognize what had happened to them. There’s something else that we need to talk about, though. I’ve actually been trying to figure out how to bring this up—” he cleared his throat. “Is Aylwyn around here somewhere?”

  “Yo.” The blond Waryeor with the facility for the strange speech of this era strolled into the kitchen. He headed to the winter box that Simon called a “refrigerator” and grabbed an ale, and then looked at Simon expectantly.

  Simon cleared his throat, looking oddly nervous. “So while you and Miller were over at Chuck’s, we met someone. She’s perfect for this.”

  Now they were all staring at him, baffled.

  “Perfect for what?” Merek prodded. Col clenched his teeth. He sensed that Simon was about to tell them something really important – something that would change everything.

  “She’s going to help you learn how to fit in better. How to blend in and act normal.” Simon’s tone turned exasperated. “Because you’re not. Acting normal, that is. The way you behave is throwing a big, glaring spotlight on yourselves, which is the opposite of what we need.”

  Col could barely think straight, for some reason. A strange heat burned through him, and his senses were unpleasantly sharpened. The sound of Barric tapping his fingers on the countertop pounded against his eardrums. He could sense the very air currents flowing around him.

  “So what are you suggesting?” Barric said irritably.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I’ve hired a behavior coach! She’ll teach you how to fit in, how to act little more modern. And less like a pack of medieval barbarians.”

  At that, the boys erupted into loud commentary, with Tybalt trying to assure everyone that this would be beneficial, Aylwyn laughing about this person being a RuPaul—whatever that meant—from some reality show that Col hadn’t heard about nor cared to, Barric’s booming baritone threatening Aylwyn with bodily harm because unlike Col, he was familiar with the reality show being referenced, and Merek’s egging on Barric to deliver on his threat.

  Col’s frustration boiled up and spilled over. There was an enemy out there that they needed to find. The Dark Warlord, as well, might be awakening even now, or might have awakened months ago.

  He might even have found them. He could have sent those two men to Simon’s property.

  Forcing him and his Bredhren to learn how to mince and prance and use proper tableware would be a colossal waste of time.

  “This is the most foolish idea ever visited on us!” Col snapped. “I will not waste one minute of my time with this ‘behavior coach’!”

  He was surprised at how much vehemence lay in his words.

  There was a sudden hush. It couldn’t be at his speech or tone. They were all staring, not at him, but behind him.

  He turned, slowly. Gods, the coach that Simon hired had entered the room.

  It was the woman he’d seen through the window – and now every nerve in his body was on fire with a strange, urgent heat.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Boss, this is really something like out of Saw.”

  Cadmus figured that was a compliment. Billy Bob’s voice was filled with awe as he surveyed the root cellar. With Jordy’s help, Cadmus had installed a shiny new work prep table that he was able to locate in a restaurant supply depot. It was long and sturdy. Thinking of the man-wolf’s large torso, it would be enough for his purposes. Especially as he had purchased a set of premium tools for butchery, and a small rack on wheels on which to have them laid out for use.

  At the same store, he was able to find freestanding candleholders in a design that he could tolerate. No doubt they were meant for restaurant decor, but he would repurpose them for his dark needs, the large pillar candles already inscribed with forbidden symbols and anointed with oils specially blended with the ingredients he had to wait so patiently for.

  He had Jordy bring in earth from the grounds outside, and together they spread it in a circle around the metal table, sprinkling in some more of the dried roots and powders he had acquired. Fortunately all of the prep work, which had necessitated various incantations and mapping out of the cardinal points, was done before Billy Bob showed up, his errands completed. The brain-challenged dunce kept chattering as if that would excuse his failure.

  He was unable to find the tranq dart cartridges they had used.

  He didn’t know if it was because of Billy Bob’s incompetence, or because it was impossible to find such tiny items in the wild. There was a tiny, infinitesimal chance that the man-wolf had gone back to find it, but even with that improbability, the problem would be solved once Cadmus tracked him down. Soon.

  The magick’d tracking amulet would be the last item on the agenda tonight. Cadmus didn’t miss the smirk of satisfaction on Jordy’s face at Billy Bob’s failure. He made a note of that competitiveness and drive to succeed at another’s expense. Such a petty flaw, but one that would make her easy to manipulate.

  At least in Billy Bob’s babbling there was one piece of good news. Like the man-wolf, the surrounding areas were teeming with fit young men, some of whom as solitary hikers would not even be reported missing right away. Better still, some might not even be from the local area, which would further delay reports of their disappearance.

  It was another point in this area’s favor for the Relocation Sweepstakes.

  Jordy was paying close attention, and Cadmus took care to emphasize how pleased he would be if this new ritual space would see many young men brought into it, putting the newly acquired table and tools to good use. He pointedly praised Billy Bob for that piece of intel, and was satisfied to see Jordy sneaking some of the filled tranq darts that he had her move into the root cellar from upstairs.

  She was such a weakling. So easy to manipulate.

  He made sure to speak coldly and dismissively to her when she had to leave to start her work shift at the Faire, acting as if he were questioning his decision to bring her on. He also praised Billy Bob to the heavens. Billy Bob stood there beaming, believing that Cadmus meant it. Cadmus had to choke back his sarcastic tone, but it was worth it. He could tell that Jordy was dying inside.

  Not literally, of course. That would be a waste of a potential recruit. But exacting torment, whether psychological or physical, was delicious to him. And he was going to make sure she was tethered to him through his deft handling of her insecurities.

  She finally left, with one last, lingering look filled with woe.

  It was too bad for her that she wouldn’t get to hang around and watch what was about to take place in the root cellar.

  Bound and gagged, and slowly coming to, was the tranquilized form of a male hiker in his twenties. He was fit, although only a shadow of the magnificent man-wolf’s muscularity or height. But he would do. Cadmus picked up one of the new blades, beginning the incantation that would consecrate it for ritual purpose. As the flickering candlelight glinted off the sharp metal edge, the male’s eyes widened.

  “He’s awake, Boss!” Billy Bob announced helpfully.

  The male began to scream against the filthy cloth tied around his mouth.

  “I will not waste one minute of my time with this ‘behavior coach’!”

  The words rang out in the largest, most beautiful kitchen that Lily had ever walked into. She finally heard his voice, the voice that went along with that electrifying look – only to have it shatter her illusions.

  She should have expected it, guessed what he was all along. After all, she’d been instantly drawn to him, so what else would he be?

  Asshole.

  Good God, she sure could pick them. She didn’t even know him, so she was surprised how much is dismissal stung.

  And then the three that had started all this, with their overgrown five-year-old act in the St
aff Caff, decided to surpass themselves.

  They all started hollering at once, a cacophony of deep, male voices saying things like: Mine eyes are blinded by your beauty! Surely the heavens are missing a celestial being! Hast thou emergeth from a flamepit? Because thou art a source of heat! Aside from being comely, how dost thee while thy hours?

  This had to be a joke. A cruel, elaborate joke. Or maybe Simon was trying out a new act for the Faire. Let’s see how Medieval Catcalling will go over for the dinner crowd!

  But then she caught Simon’s stricken look. The pleading in his eyes to not just turn around and leave. He couldn’t be that good an actor. And besides, she needed the money. She’d play along. Or maybe even take what he had said to her at face value. It certainly sounded legit at the time, although granted being offered triple pay and she would have believed the earth was flat.

  Simon had said these bodyguards came from a mysterious country in Europe but he couldn’t tell her anything more, because they were political refugees. Something hush hush involving a federal agency usually referred to by three initials, and it wasn’t the IRS.

  Her job would be to help them assimilate, so they would blend in and not be easily tracked down by an equivalent agency from their country. Given that they already stood out, with their builds and heights, not to mention a propensity for being loud and attention getting, she had quite the task on her hands.

  But…political refugees. That spoke to some pain, some realistic expectation of persecution for being what they were, what they believed in. She had to respect that, and possibly, like her preschoolers they were acting this way as a mechanism to deal with fear, grief, rage.

  She had to help them, even if Simon wasn’t offering her triple pay.

  “Silence!” Tybalt barked.