EUAN: Outback Shifters #3

by Chant, Zoe

  “How’re you doing?” Delilah asked, once Rosie had made her way inside. “I guess I should have given you a little more warning about what a kids’ party by Jenny was going to be like.”

  “No. It’s… fine,” Euan said, and to his surprise, it was true. Mostly, anyway – if he had to guard Delilah he would have preferred that it be under slightly less chaotic circumstances. But for someone who’d never really been around kids and hadn’t considered himself a kid person, he was finding everything surprisingly… cute.

  “Greg and Jenny haven’t roped you into doing any more handyman jobs, have they?”

  Euan shook his head. “No – I haven’t seen them. I’ve just been mostly watching you.”

  Delilah’s eyes shot up to his. “Oh – right, yeah, because of the bodyguarding thing.” She laughed. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t really been making it easy, spending all my time over here where it’s busiest, by the food tables.”

  “It’s fine,” Euan assured her. It had been more than fine, actually – watching Delilah smiling, handing out food, being so naturally easy and charming had been…

  … It had been joyous.

  Which wasn’t a feeling Euan was used to experiencing, even before he’d lost his shifter powers.

  “Still, things seem to have died down a little now, and to be honest, I could use a little break. It’s hard being in temptation’s way – I must’ve eaten about ninety slices of fairy bread and forty honey joys, but like an idiot I just keep eating them.”

  “I really don’t blame you,” Euan said, reaching for another. “I’ve never had these before – they’re amazing.”

  “You never had a honey joy before? I thought they were just kind of the standard. Cheap and easy to make, and kids love ’em.”

  “No – I guess I had what you’d call a pretty unconventional upbringing,” Euan said, before biting into the new honey joy. It was just as amazing as the first one. “My mother died when I was still pretty young. My father… well, he wasn’t exactly what you’d call handy in the kitchen. He preferred that we eat what we’d caught ourselves.”

  Euan swallowed, his stomach tightening. Even without the shifter element, he realized that to many people, hunting as a way of life was strange and different. Delilah didn’t need to know that Euan had spent a lot of his teenaged years in lion form, crouched in a tree, waiting to ambush feral pigs and deer. He hadn’t really meant it to slip out like that, but Delilah set him so at ease he hadn’t really thought about what he was saying before he said it.

  “I guess that makes sense,” Delilah said after a moment. “I mean, if you have the option, why spend money at a supermarket? It’d be cool if I could turn into a kangaroo – like I’m hungry and I haven’t got any money, I could just go to a park, change my form and have a little graze. Problem solved.”

  Euan laughed. He tried to imagine Trent doing that, and decided he probably had at one time or another.

  Still, his shifted form wasn’t really a grazer – when he’d wanted to eat, it had involved a lot more blood and claws than that. His lion was a predator, and it had been reflected in its wild nature. When it had still been with him, Euan had occasionally found it hard to control, even after so many years of practice.

  “You wanna go check out the ponies?” Delilah asked him. “I’ve wanted to go see what kind of setup they have since we arrived. I used to be crazy about ponies.”

  “Sure, if that’s what you’d like,” Euan said. “Things look a little less crazy over there – I think the pony rides guy is keeping things quiet so they don’t spook.”

  Together, they made their way across the lawn to the steps leading down to where the pony pen was set up.

  “Thanks for being so sweet to Rosie,” Delilah said suddenly, as they passed a group of glamorous parents laughing together as their kids cavorted around them. “I think she sometimes feels a little… left out. But she’s also shy, so she doesn’t usually make the first move to talk to people. Big parties are basically her worst nightmare, I think.”

  “She seems like a nice kid,” Euan said. “Being quiet isn’t a crime. I was a pretty quiet kid myself.”

  “Me too.” Delilah sighed. “I would’ve hated this when I was Rosie’s age, but Jenny was one of the popular girls so she had something about this size every year until she turned eighteen, I think. Me, I just had a sleepover with like, four friends and we watched movies and ate junk. That’s a bit more my speed.”

  “Honestly, if I’d had parties for my birthday, that’s probably the kind of thing I would have liked,” Euan said. Perhaps not the movies and eating junk – though he could definitely eat a few hundred more honey joys – but just spending time with a small group of close friends. “To look at you now though, you’d think you loved this kind of thing,” Euan continued after a moment. “You looked like a total natural. The kids love you.”

  “You think so?” Delilah sounded pleased. “I guess… well, I have to interact with a lot of people at my work, some I’d rather not. So you get used to it – not that I’m comparing a bunch of adorable kids to some slimy art dealers with more money than they know what to do with,” she added hastily.

  Euan smiled, about to reassure her that he hadn’t assumed that she was, when they were both distracted by the sound of a jubilant voice from across the lawn.

  “Aunty Dela! Aunty Dela!”

  Euan and Delilah looked around just in time to see a little girl wearing a long pink dress, a crown of flowers in her hair, running across the lawn towards them.

  “It’s the birthday girl!” Delilah said, crouching down and opening her arms as the little girl reached her, bouncing into them happily.

  Euan hadn’t had time to meet Emma yet in amongst all the festivities, but there was no mistaking her as the one everyone was here to see – she was overjoyed, bouncing up and down as Delilah hugged her.

  “Aunty Dela!” Emma said again, as Delilah let her out of the hug. “Did you see my painting?”

  “I did not,” Delilah said. “But I would love to.”

  “I want you to do a painting too,” Emma informed her. “Come do a painting.”

  “Well, I was just going to –” Delilah started, but stopped when Jenny, looking slightly frazzled, arrived at their side.

  “Oh, she found you,” Jenny said. “She’s been wanting to show you her painting and ran off to find you. Dela, do you think you could go with her for a moment? I just have to go find out if there’s more gelati in the downstairs freezer.”

  “Sure thing,” Delilah agreed easily. She glanced up at Euan. “You don’t mind coming and looking at some art, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Euan replied. “Lead the way.”

  The art station was set up not too far from the ponies – a large, round table covered in huge pieces of butcher’s paper, along with every kind of colored pencil, crayon and paint that Euan could have imagined, and an awful lot he couldn’t have.

  There was an art teacher – a kind-looking lady with frizzy hair who was wearing cheesecloth – helping the kids who were sitting around the table with mixing the paints and picking out their colors, and all of them seemed to be having a wonderful time.

  Emma had been dragging Delilah by the hand over to the tables, and now she let go, pointing to a small wooden chair.

  “Aunty Dela, sit there. I want to show you my picture.”

  “Okay, Emma – I’d love to see it,” Delilah said, glancing around at Euan. The only places to sit were the child-sized chairs that surrounded the table. Euan hesitated a moment, before carefully lowering himself down into one. He couldn’t just stand there loitering, after all. The chair creaked a little as he sat down, but otherwise held steady.

  When he looked up, he found Delilah covering her mouth with her hand, clearly trying not to laugh out loud.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s – it’s really nothing,” she said, her laughter clear in her voice. “It’s just that obviously, this party
really wasn’t designed with someone of your, uh, build in mind.”

  Well, Euan couldn’t really disagree there – he could only fit about half his butt on the chair. But regardless of how stupid he might have looked, it was worth it to see Delilah more closely in her element.

  Emma slid a piece of paper across the table to Delilah.

  “See, it’s one of the horsies,” Emma told her, pointing to a brown shape standing on some green tufts of grass, a yellow sun shining in the top corner. There were some flowers drifting through the sky, which Euan assumed were just artistic imagination, and Emma had signed her name at the bottom in chunky letters. Euan had to admit, it was pretty good – perhaps artistic genes ran in Delilah’s family.

  “It’s beautiful, Emma,” Delilah said, holding it up to admire it. “Really lovely. Is this the brown pony over there?”

  “Yeah. His name is Apples. His owner said so when I got to ride him,” Emma said proudly.

  “I’m sure Apples would be very pleased to know you liked him enough to draw him,” Delilah said.

  “I want you to draw Apples now.” Emma slid a new piece of paper in front of Delilah. “I want a really nice picture of him.”

  “Yours is already nice,” Delilah told her. “But I can do one if you like – you’re sure you don’t want something you don’t already have a nice picture of?”

  “No, just Apples,” Emma insisted. She pulled a palette of crayons over. “Please, Aunty Dela?”

  “Sure thing, Emma – you’re the birthday girl, after all.”

  Euan had to admit, he was curious to see how Delilah’s picture would turn out – she’d mentioned she painted and worked in an art gallery, but he’d had no chance to question her any further about any of those things. He kind of wanted to watch her work – but before she could really get started beyond a few sketchy lines, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

  “Hey, mister.”

  Euan knew that voice – and sure enough, when he turned he found Jack sitting next to him, back from having found the toilets.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Can you draw a bird?” Jack asked.

  Euan paused uncertainly. He really wasn’t sure he’d ever drawn a single thing in his life. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Can you draw a bird for me?” Jack persisted, then pointed at a picture of a bird the art teacher was gesturing at over the other side of the table, teaching the children how to draw it. It was bright red and blue – a crimson rosella.

  “Wouldn’t you like to draw the bird yourself?” Euan asked Jack, but Jack just shook his head.

  “I did already. Can you draw him?”

  Euan could see he probably wasn’t going to get out of this very easily – and in any case, he wasn’t quite sure how to go about refusing a direct instruction from a small boy without seeming like a killjoy. He reached uncertainly for a red crayon.

  The bird looked simple enough to draw… but that apparently didn’t translate to him being able to get it down on paper. He made a circle for its head, then a large oval for its body, coloring them both in red. A black dot made its eye. Too late, Euan realized he hadn’t left a space for its white beak – or for the blue patch of feathers that went under it.

  It was a bit late now, he decided, so instead he just moved on to its wings and tail, with long, sweeping lines of dark blue.

  “That doesn’t look anything like a bird, mister,” Jack informed Euan when he was finished.

  Euan had to admit Jack probably had a point. But he didn’t think it was too bad for a first try.

  “Oh – you… you, uh, drew something too.” Euan turned at the sound of Delilah’s voice beside him. “It’s… well, it’s a…” She frowned.

  “It’s a bird,” Euan told her. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  “Oh, no, I totally see it now!” Delilah laughed. “Sorry – no, it’s definitely a bird. That’s its… head? Is it?”

  “Oh all right, so I’m not going to win any prizes in art,” Euan grumbled. “Let’s see your horse, then.”

  “Emma insisted some alterations be made,” Delilah said, shrugging a little helplessly. “Accuracy cannot be guaranteed.”

  Euan looked down at Delilah’s drawing – and sucked in a surprised breath. It wasn’t that he was shocked that Delilah was a good artist, but he hadn’t been prepared for just how good she was.

  The horse she’d drawn – well, Euan supposed it was more of a pegasus now, since one of Emma’s requested alterations was apparently a large, sweeping pair of wings – was beautiful. Somehow, in only a few lines, Delilah had managed to capture its essence. It was only a simple drawing, but the winged pony was full of life and vitality, tossing its head with its front leg raised, tail waving behind it.

  “Okay,” Euan said. “I am willing to admit that this is just slightly better than my bird.”

  “Your bird has its own unique charm,” Delilah said diplomatically. “I bet if I took it and hung it in the Gallery of New South Wales and said it was expressionism people would be slobbering all over it.”

  “You don’t have to go that far,” Euan said.

  “Okay, fine, that’s probably stretching things a bit,” Delilah laughed. “But regardless, I still think it’s cute.”

  Euan’s eyebrows lifted. He didn’t think anyone had described either himself or anything he’d done as cute before.

  “Well, thank you,” he said, a little uncertainly. “That’s good to know.”

  “I want to show Mummy the picture you drew me,” Emma announced, tugging at Delilah’s hand. “Come find Mummy with me!”

  “Okay, okay Emma!” Delilah laughed. She glanced back at Euan as he stood, hoping he hadn’t done any permanent damage to the little chair. “Sorry – you’re getting really dragged in every direction today.”

  “It’s fine,” Euan told her – and, to his mild surprise, he found it was true.

  He’d been dreading taking this assignment. He’d been so sure it was all going to go wrong. But instead, all that had happened was that he’d gotten to spend time getting to know Delilah better. What kind of person she was. How kind, how thoughtful, and how patient. How talented and sweet.

  Euan felt his heart clench in a way that was becoming worryingly familiar to him as he followed Delilah across the lawns, the skirt of her yellow dress flowing out behind her. She turned to smile at him over her shoulder, and Euan found himself almost helplessly smiling back.

  Chapter 9

  Despite what Euan had said about her seeming to be in her element at the party, by the time the guests began filtering out of Jenny and Greg’s front door, parents waving their farewells and leading tired, happy children clutching little giftbags out to waiting cars, Delilah was well and truly ready to go home.

  Jenny had winked at her and made a call me signal at her after Delilah had told her Euan would be driving her home, and Delilah had resolutely ignored her. Rosie had come to say her goodbyes – not having reappeared at the party at any point that Delilah had noticed – and had very seriously handed Euan a folded piece of notepaper which, when opened, revealed the recipe for honey joys, written out in Rosie’s neat, careful handwriting.

  “Who’s this?” Euan asked once Rosie had gone back inside, pointing to the picture of the pouting, pink-haired boy that adorned the borders of the notepaper Rosie had given him.

  “Oh… I think it’s a guy in some boyband she likes,” Delilah said. She remembered him from the posters on Rosie’s wall, though she couldn’t for the life of her remember his name.

  “Hmm.” Euan frowned, looking down at it as if trying to figure out some extremely perplexing puzzle. “That’s nice.”

  Delilah laughed. “C’mon, that’s pretty normal, isn’t it? You can’t tell me you didn’t have a crush on some popstar or other when you were a kid.”

  “I didn’t really know any popstars,” Euan said, glancing at her as he opened the door of the car for her. He hesitated a moment. “What about you?”r />
  “Oh no, I was a total nerd in school.” Delilah shook her head. “I thought I was way too good for boybands and pop music. I liked classic movies – Rock Hudson was my crush. I don’t think we would have worked out.”

  To her mild surprise, Euan laughed, deep and rich. “You might be right about that.”

  Delilah began to laugh along with him, until a massive yawn cut her short.

  “My goodness. I’m about ready to flop into bed,” she said. She was already looking forward to it – she liked this dress a lot, but right now all she wanted to do was get into some nice comfy track pants and Uggs and curl up on her couch with a bowl of pho to watch some trashy soapie.

  Oh. Except I guess I can’t do that…

  Would Euan insist on taking her back to the Agency headquarters again? Would she have to sleep there again tonight?

  Delilah understood the reasons behind it, but just now she was utterly overcome with a longing for her own bed, her own space. After everything that had happened, the desire for the normalcy of being in her own home was almost irresistible. She’d thought she was handling things okay – better than she’d ever imagined she would, if someone had told her just how completely her life was going to be upended – but perhaps that had been because she’d had the party and her promise to Rosie to focus on.

  Now that the party was over and she’d realized that she may not be able to go home for who knew how long…

  Delilah swallowed, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety that was crawling up her throat. She assumed Euan was just going to drive her straight back to the office, no matter what she said. But…

  Well, she thought, don’t ask, don’t get.

  “Euan, would it be all right if I went home?” she asked, pausing by the open car door. “I don’t have to stay there overnight,” she added quickly. “I just… want to see the place. Maybe get some of my own clothes to bring back, and a couple of other things.”

  Euan had frowned when she first started talking, but she could see that he was at least thinking about her request. And she knew that even if he felt obligated to take her back to the Agency, he had no desire to be her jailor.