by Zoe Chant
Mauro's head popped out of the snow in front of her.
Hester gave a startled little hedgehog grunt of surprise.
Mauro bumped her with his nose and darted away, gliding across the snow in the moonlight.
The world was so different like this. She wasn't even slightly cold. She felt invigorated and refreshed. The air that had seemed cold and scentless to her human noise was full of a dazzling variety of smells. Her sharp hedgehog ears could pick up the sound of small creatures rustling in the woods, the occasional whisper of snow falling off tree branches.
Hester scurried forward, her small nose twitching.
Mauro scampered back to frisk around her, bumping her playfully.
Hester squawked a protest. I'm prickly! she thought. I'll hurt you!
But her little hedgehog spines didn't seem to bother him at all. She felt like she was emerging from a shell, the playful side of herself waking up.
Hedgehogs weren't exactly well suited to playing tag, but she did her best, scampering along with Mauro while he darted around her. Normally she would have been afraid, being out in the woods at night—there were owls, and foxes, and even though her human brain knew that she could just shift back if danger threatened, her hedgehog instincts kept reminding her that she was a small prey animal. But now she had Mauro to protect her, in either his grison or human form.
It felt to her as if she need never fear anything again. Not with Mauro by her side.
Mauro
It was a couple of damp, snow-covered, half-dressed, giggling shifters who let themselves into the lodge through a side door an hour or so later. They kept shushing each other and setting off fresh fits of giggles.
"I can't believe you dug a sinkhole under me!" Hester whispered, half choking in her attempt not to laugh.
"I wasn't trying to! I was just burrowing. You knocked an entire branchload of snow onto me, so I think we're even." He caught her arm as she tiptoed toward the stairs with her coat bundled in her arms. "No, there's a side stairway. C'mon."
They made their quiet way upstairs. Mauro couldn't take his eyes off Hester. She was gorgeous, flushed and giggly and full of life. She had pulled her sweater back on sloppily, without a bra, and her hair was tousled and fluffy. There was snow melting on her eyebrows. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her desperately.
So he did, right there in the hallway. Hester kissed him back passionately, in between halfhearted, whispered protests interspersed with giggles.
"We can't—my mom's right down the hall—"
"She's probably asleep," Mauro whispered back.
"No, she stays up late and has ears like a bat." Hester giggled again, and whispered, "Now I'm picturing her as a bat. This is ridiculous. I feel like I'm drunk, even though I can't possibly be."
"I feel that way too." He touched the soft side of her face, glorying in the feeling of her skin. "That's what having a mate is."
"What is a mate? You said that earlier."
"I'll explain, but not out here. Do you mind if we ..."
"Mind," Hester giggled. "As if I mind."
She opened the door to the honeymoon suite.
"Here," Mauro said. He took her coat. "Just hold on a minute."
"Wait, where are you—"
"I'll be right back!" he whispered, kissed her one more time, and fled downstairs.
He would have just thrown their coats on the floor if it hadn't been Hester's coat, so he hung them up and then went into the kitchen. There was something the lodge laid in for Valentine's every year. It was possible they hadn't had a chance before shutting down, but with all the other pastries in stock, it had better be here.
It was.
Smiling, he took out a small aluminum tray of frozen gourmet Valentine's truffles. Each was dense and rich enough to be a mouthful, with a little fondant flower or heart on top.
They really should defrost for a bit, but he didn't want to accidentally melt them in the microwave. They would probably be nice frozen, too. Like eating ice cream.
He looked quickly around the kitchen, found a plastic tray, put the truffle tray on it, and added two of their pink Valentine's napkins.
It still felt underwhelming. Someone who knew what they were doing could probably arrange it more nicely. But he was starting to feel like he needed to get back upstairs before she got to wondering where he was.
Oh wait, he thought. If he wanted to put romantic decorations on the tray, the lobby was full of them.
He swiped some crepe paper and hearts from the front desk, and a spray of pink and white plastic flowers from an ornamental vase, and arranged them around the truffles. If he did say so himself, that looked pretty fantastic.
He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it down and then realized he was being ridiculous. She'd just seen him running around as a grison, for pete's sake. His shirt was buttoned crooked and he wasn't wearing socks.
Holding the tray in one hand waiter-style, he carried it up the stairs. He was half expecting to meet Hester or her mom on the stairs, but when he got to the upstairs hallway, there was no light under any door but Hester's.
Feeling a nervous thrill like a teenager picking up his first date, he knocked on her door.
"Come in," Hester called softly.
He opened the door.
Hester had drawn the drapes and turned on the bedside lamp, lighting the room with a soft amber glow. She was sitting on the bed, wearing the red satin bathrobe that came with the room. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. It looked like she, too, had made some effort to smooth it down. He found himself regretting that; it had looked gorgeous tousled. Of course, it looked gorgeous like this too. She was gorgeous: his mate in the lamplight, looking at him with soft, warm eyes.
Eyes that widened when she saw the tray. "What's that?"
"A midnight snack." He swapped the DO NOT DISTURB sign to the outside of the doorknob and closed the door behind him.
"No, but what are those? Oh my gosh ..."
Mauro set the tray on the bedspread between them. Hester wiggled her fingers over the truffles.
"These look amazing. I don't know what to try first. Are they different flavors?"
"There are supposed to be liqueur ones and just plain chocolate, but I'm not sure what kind these are. Oh," he added, "I just got them out of the freezer, so be careful biting into them."
"I don't care. They look amazing." She picked up one with a heart on it, hesitated, then popped it into her mouth. Her eyes half closed in bliss.
Mauro grinned. He picked up a truffle decorated with a flower, and followed suit, putting it in his mouth whole.
It was a burst of cold on his tongue, warming and softening into decadent rich chocolate with a burning hint of rum.
"So I think these are the liquor ones," he said when his mouth was clear again.
"They're amazing," Hester groaned. She reached for one with a flower. "Okay, so you were going to tell me about mates. Go."
"Fated mates. Right. Every shifter has someone in the world—"
"—that's meant for them," Hester interrupted, and then her eyes went wide as if she had surprised herself.
"Yes," he said, smiling. "Did your hedgehog tell you?"
"No ... I mean, yes, sort of. She isn't really a talker. I just knew, when you started to say it, how that sentence was going to end."
"Mates," he murmured, and reached out to wipe a smear of chocolate away from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. "Perfectly matched. Each other's missing puzzle piece."
"I'm far from perfect," Hester said. Under his thumb, he felt the corner of her mouth tug in a rueful smile.
"You are, though." He stroked her lips with the ball of his thumb. "Perfect lips." His thumb moved down to brush her chin. "Perfect chin." He leaned across the tray to kiss the tip of her nose. "Perfect nose. Even a perfect name."
"Hester Hatherill the hedgehog sounds like a character in a children's book."
"It's perfect for you," Mauro said
, not disagreeing so much as stating a simple fact. "It's unique, it's quirky and beautiful, and maybe just a little bit old-fashioned."
Her smile was teasing, a twitch of both corners of her mouth that made dimples appear. "Old-fashioned, am I?"
"In a good way. You're centered. You know who you are."
"I'm prickly."
He grinned. "Hedgehogs usually are."
This, as he'd hoped, got a laugh. "Why don't we see how old-fashioned I am," she murmured, and leaned forward to kiss him with her lightly chocolate-smeared lips. "Mate."
Hester
Hester woke lazy and comfortable, stretching out in the big, soft bed. She rolled over and sat up. The covers on the other side were rumpled, and the bed was empty, but it was still warm when she touched it.
Did I really do that?
I guess I did.
She got out of bed and wrapped the robe around her shoulders. It fell silky and smooth across her bare skin, whispering on the carpet behind her.
Soft, clear light came through the crack in the drapes. Hester pulled them wide, and looked out onto a brilliant white world. The sun was out, and it gleamed on a pristine blanket of snow covering the parking lot, the trees, the outbuildings. Everything was white and perfect. It was marred only by two sets of footprints winding through the snow toward the trees and the top of the generator building.
That was us last night.
They would have left tracks outside the generator building as well. If someone found their tracks, would they think that it was only two small animals playing in the snow?
But of course there was no one to find the tracks here ... no one except her mother.
Hester squared her shoulders and took a steadying breath. It was time to tell Peony her secret. She couldn't keep hiding it, not with Mauro in her life. She had made the decision to hide the truth from the world all her life, but she didn't have the right to make it on Mauro's behalf.
And what if they had kids? What if her mother ended up with grandchildren who turned into hedgehogs or grisons, or some other kind of animal?
There was a soft tap at the door. "Are you decent?" Mauro's voice called softly through the door.
"What if I'm not?" she asked with a grin, and went to let him in.
"Awww," he said, seeing the robe, but gave her a kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day."
That's right, it was, wasn't it?
Mauro looked amazing, as always. He was wearing a blue work shirt that seemed to bring out the highlights in his dark hair, and carried a tray loaded with plates of pancakes and scrambled eggs, and decorated with hearts and crepe paper like the tray last night.
"Happy Valentine's Day to you too," Hester said. The food smelled incredible. "And you brought me breakfast in bed? You really are the perfect mate."
The word "mate" dropped into her heart like a bright coin. It just made it feel more real somehow.
"Here," Mauro said, and put the tray in her hands before going to drag the room's small desk and two chairs in front of the window. "We can eat looking out at the snow."
"I don't want to neglect Mom," Hester protested, but she let him lead her over the window. "Is she eating all alone downstairs?"
"She's been up for hours. Last time I saw her, she was reading in front of the fire. She told me to have fun and treat her daughter right."
Hester grinned, but it fell away quickly. "I've decided I'm going to tell her the truth today."
"About your hedgehog?"
Hester nodded, and drizzled syrup all over her pancakes, not looking at him.
"Hester, listen." He reached across the table and gripped her hand. "She's going to take it okay, you know? Your mom seems really nice, and she seems like she's very level-headed and sensible."
"She's an accountant," Hester sighed. "You don't know the half of it."
"So trust her. She loves you." He squeezed her hand. "If it does go badly, though I don't think it will—but if it does, I can take you out in the woods and we can have a nice cathartic snowball fight."
Hester managed to laugh a little. "You really think she'll handle it okay?"
"I think she will. But the choice of what to tell her, of course, is up to you. I'll be there no matter what." He nodded at the plate. "Go on, try some. I want to know if I did it right."
"Wait, did you make these?"
"Well, from a mix. Don't keep me in suspense."
Hester took a large bite and almost died. "Oh my gosh. These are incredible."
"If you're anything like me, shifting probably makes you hungry. A few truffles aren't going to cut it." He waggled his eyebrows. "Anyway, we burned a lot of energy last night."
"You're going to have to roll me out of the lodge if you keep feeding me like this," Hester said as she poured more syrup on her pancakes. "I'm a hedgehog; I'm roly-poly by nature."
"You're an absolutely gorgeous hedgehog who needs to eat more pancakes."
"Trust me," Hester said. "The only limiting factor here is the size of my mouth."
After Hester had eaten more than she thought possible, Mauro took their dishes downstairs, and she dressed in a fresh sweater, a soft one that she thought Mauro might like, and her usual jeans. She stood at the window for a moment looking down at the fresh snow, and saw Mauro crossing the expanse of white between the lodge and the outbuildings.
He turned to look back at the lodge and waved. Hester waved back, and then went downstairs.
The lobby was lit by natural light today, with most of the lamps off and bright sunlight coming in through the high windows. It was a slightly different effect by daylight; the sun brought out the natural golden glow of the wood, and the hanging biplane cast a shadow across the lobby desk.
"I don't know if I'd stand under that if I were you," Peony called from one of the fireplace couches.
"Mauro says it's not going to fall. I trust him."
"I trust Mauro too. What I don't trust is a whole entire airplane dangling from tiny cables."
Hester went over to the fireplace. Her mom had curled up on the couch most directly positioned in front of the fire. She had a cup of coffee on the end table, a book in her hand, and a blanket across her lap.
"You look cozy," Hester said.
"I feel cozy," Peony said cheerfully. She swung her legs down and patted the couch beside her. "Come and sit with me."
Hester sat, perched nervously on the edge. "Mom, there's something I need to tell you."
Peony laughed. "Honey, if this is leading up to a shocking revelation about you and Mauro, I know where you both spent last night. You're adults. And he seems very nice."
"He is nice," Hester said, blushing. "But, no, that's not it. It's about me, Mom."
"You're pregnant?" Peony said.
"What? How? No!"
"You've decided to move to the middle of nowhere and open a lodge with Mauro."
"Mom. Stop."
Peony laid the book aside and picked up her coffee cup. "Well, don't keep me in suspense."
"I'm a hedgehog," Hester burst out.
Peony had just started to take a drink; now she set the cup down carefully. "Is that modern slang for something?"
"No ... no, it means exactly what you think it means." Hester was looking down at her hands, twisting them between her knees. "I'm a hedgehog."
"I feel like I'm missing part of this conversation."
"A hedgehog. I turn into a hedgehog."
"And by 'turn into,' you mean ..."
"Sometimes I'm a woman and sometimes I'm a hedgehog," Hester said, her voice rising slightly with anxiety. She had never actually told anyone before. Aside from Mauro, the one person who had figured it out was Mr. Delano, the school guidance counselor, and that was only because he was a badger shifter himself.
It occurred to her that maybe she should have led into this conversation more delicately, but she had no idea how.
"Honey." Peony curled a hand around Hester's. "I'm sorry, I can tell this is important to you, but I honestly hav
e no idea what you mean by hedgehog. Is this one of those online quiz sorting things? Like a Hogwarts house?"
"No, no. That's not what I mean at all. Although," she added under her breath, "I definitely am a Hufflepuff ... no, that's not important." She shook herself. "Look, actually I think it would be easier to show you."
After last night, she was a little more confident about shifting with her clothes on. Actually, she wished she'd thought of doing this years ago. It would have saved her a lot of nervous stripping in the small band of woods in the park near her apartment.
She concentrated and shifted.
The world got suddenly very dark. She was tangled in her own sweater. To her hedgehog instincts, it felt cozy and safe. She heard Peony gasp and wished she could just hide in here forever, but that wasn't going to get her anywhere. She started trying to dig her way out.
All of a sudden part of the sweater lifted away and an absolutely huge Peony was looking down at her, wide-eyed.
Instinct took over. Hester curled into a ball, spines pointing out.
She couldn't see, but hedgehogs were mostly creatures of scent and sound anyway. There were rustling noises, and then a pair of huge, warm hands that smelled of hand soap and her mother's perfume cupped her. She was lifted out of the sweater with exquisite gentleness.
"Okay, so, when you said hedgehog," Peony said, with a nervous little laugh, "you really meant ... hedgehog."
Her voice was very quiet, which Hester appreciated, because hedgehog ears were sensitive and she was very small. Strangely, though, in Peony's hands she didn't feel unsafe. She wasn't afraid of being dropped or hurt, even with her spines prickling Peony's palms.
Because Peony had held her like this before, hadn't she?
Not as a hedgehog. But it really wasn't that different.
Her memories before Peony were fairly dim. She had been quite small when Peony adopted her. Mostly, she just remembered never feeling safe, ever. There was no one to stand up for her. There never had been. The only way she knew to protect herself was to fight.