by Mikea Howard
How had a stranger become her hero? She knew very little about him but when he showed up, her pulse sped. Having never felt this off balance before, she remained hesitant. Her emotions had led her astray many times before.
Grandpa Thomas described the same sensation the first time he’d laid eyes on his bride.
My soul recognized yer Gram’s as its other half, Smudge. True love is out there. You jus’ have ta wait for it ta surprise you.
Dottie transitioned into ‘Orange Colored Sky,’ a tune about love coming out of nowhere to hit you hard. Craning her head back she sang to the clouds above, willing them to change with the words so her love could flash, bam, alakazam his way back to her.
Wait, did I jus’ consider him as my love?
Is the pull every time Tim is near . . . infatuation, or somethin’ more?
Dottie scoffed, “Ha. Love.”
The familiar emotion had hit her hard before, and like Nat King Cole stated, she’d thought love would be much softer than that. Her chest cracked wide open when she’d found Johnny and Violet.
Idly running her fingers through her hair, she shifted songs once again. The slow deep tones of Billie Holiday rumbled past her lips. ‘Willow Weep For Me’ told the story of a lonely woman, begging a tree to cry with her.
Pulling out her bobby pins and combing the victory rolls she’d worn on stage from her hair, she sang with all her soul. If the power behind the words could rise from her, weave through the mist and make their way to God, both he and the willow could weep for her. Twisting her refreshed locks, she pinned them in bundles atop her head.
Enough self-pity. I refuse ta waste one more minute on a no-good boob and his floozy.
The rippling air heralded Tim’s entrance. It took a moment before she caught him in her periphery. When their eyes met, lightning shot through her. Her body filled with warmth, like the sun spreading from the center of her chest.
She felt the power within her grow as Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘I’ll Chase The Blues Away’ rolled from her lips. Dottie swayed to the message of finding new love. There she went again, picturing Tim as her new love. But would he be true?
Her history with men would say no, but something about her mystery hero had her wanting to believe otherwise.
Chapter 4
Relieved when the tree came into view, Tim rested his palms against the bark. The moment he crossed over, Dottie’s song filled his ears.
Her back toward him, she fastened her long curls up. Her sultry voice saturated the air, vibrating with the notes she held. The words spoke of love after loss, of trusting after betrayal.
His eyes burned with unshed tears, threatening to fall. He couldn’t breathe as his chest tightened, sending a tether to the woman. She attracted him like a magnet. He moved in closer to catch a glimpse of her face. When she turned her head, time stopped.
My soul’s mate.
Switching her song to something more upbeat, Dottie continued to sing, smiling brightly. Patting her head, she pulled up a stray hair, wrapping it into the mix, and winked at him. She dropped her hands, hoisting herself to her feet without missing a beat.
Can she sense it too? Do humans believe in destiny and soul mates? Even though he had no doubt his one and only stood before him, he couldn’t be sure she’d possess the same certainty. Of course, he’d never assume any woman the horned god chose for him would automatically fall at his feet. Quite the contrary considering his creator’s consort. Tim would have to prove his love every day.
I can’t wait for the opportunity. Now I only have to make her love me and pull her out of here.
What he had to tell her wouldn’t help his cause. “I tried to bring you good news, but I couldn’t find you in town. The Animal Gang took over the whole place. Do you know anything about them?”
“You mean the AG? Johnny, my ex-fiancé, had some dealins’ with ‘em. They provided the drinks at my venues. I really didn’t have much ta do with any of that.” She squinted at him. “Is there somethin’ bad ‘bout ‘em?”
Her ex-fiancé? She’s not engaged. He withheld his sigh of relief to focus on the crux of the matter.
“They’re rogue Weres and Shifters.”
“What? I didn’t know. They seemed nice enough . . . for bootleggers.”
“Yes, they’re wolves in sheep’s clothing. The organization teaches them to put on a good show, but make no mistake.”
Dottie squinted. “But aren’t you a shifter too?”
“I’m not a rogue.” Tim shook his head. “I’m not like them.”
“Okay. How?”
“Hmm.” He crossed his ankles and dropped into a seat on the ground, waiting for her to do the same before continuing. “With Weres, it’s easy. They’re usually banned from their packs, and go to live in the city.”
“What if they jus’ wanna live in the city?”
Tim laughed. “What a good question. The pollution and noise grates at their senses, confuses them, and may ultimately make them insane.” Leaning forward, he searched for the best words to explain. “Would you want to live in a way you knew could make you a risk to others?”
“Well, what if the city didn’t affect you?”
“I do have one friend who isn’t bothered by the city. He was born of two bitten werewolves. His mate is the friend about to deliver her baby . . . the one I was on my way to visit.” Tim stopped, focusing again on the question. “But wolves and other wereanimals need their packs.”
Dottie tilted her head. “So, isn’t a rogue group a pack?”
Tim rarely found himself having long conversations. He enjoyed telling her about himself, his friends. Her genuine interest in what he said, in trying to understand, made him desire her even more.
Of course, his fated companion would be as inquisitive as himself. Unlike her upfront questioning, he learned by studying from afar, absorbing all he could. They were two sides of the same coin, two halves of the same being.
“In a way they are, but since they’re unstable, and often violent, they’re a pack of criminals. Bootlegging is the least of their crimes.”
Resting her elbows on her knees, she leaned forward and plopped her chin into her hands. “Okey-dokey. But what ‘bout you? Does a shifter have a pack?”
“Not precisely, but some live in enclaves or communes.” He smirked. “Here’s where it becomes tricky . . . we define rogue shifters by actions, because it’s easier for us to live in the city. We’re less susceptible to the noise and diesel.”
“Livin’ and workin’ with a rogue group makes a shifter one? Is there somethin’ else? ‘Cause that’s not very difficult.” She scrunched her nose.
Tim barked out a laugh, and it reverberated around them, unfamiliar to his ears. He often chuckled, even snorted sometimes, but he didn’t whoop. Although he had a sense of humor, he usually stayed reserved. Imagining how much joy she could bring to him every day caused a flutter in his chest.
But can I keep her happy? I know she’s interested now, but will I bore her as time passes?
Sobering slightly, he continued their discussion. “You’re right, but some live on their own. They sell their gifts to the highest bidder, or every bidder if they choose. Despite the consequences, or the lives of others . . . they care only for themselves.”
“I know a lot of cats like that . . . only servin’ ‘emselves.”
“Add supernatural talents, helping criminals who have no issues with killing.”
Dottie cringed. “But yer not like that.” Gasping, she added, “Wait, if you were, you might leave me stuck here . . . unless I could pay you?”
The very idea of a rogue eagle finding her here had him suppressing a growl. Hanging out with too many wolves lately. But instead, he smiled. “Good thing I stopped at the tree.” More like fate.
> Dottie sighed. “I’m over the moon ‘cause you did.”
Just hearing those words calmed his raging pulse. I found her, she’s here, and she’s glad to have me.
~ ~ ~
Dottie leaned into Tim and placed a chaste peck on his cheek. She hesitated, hovering inches above his musky skin, breathing him in. Laying one more at the corner of his mouth, like the law of attraction, the draw of him made it nearly impossible to pull away.
Using all of her will, she sat back. “Thank you, Tim, for everythin’. For helpin’ me.”
The natural rouge of his skin grew deeper, alerting her to his reaction to her contact. Had it excited or embarrassed him?
Her fingers flew to her face, cupping her cheeks. “Di Mi. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ta be so bold.”
She seldom had contact with modest or humble men. Most of the goons who’d courted her would’ve pushed for more than a kiss by now. Her job as a performer, sometimes singing sultry songs, often gave guys the wrong impression of her being easy. In truth, she’d only experienced two relationships. Dottie had retained her purity until the most recent one, with Johnny.
“No, Na-qui-si, I’m not offended by your gratitude.” Tim grasped her wrist, bringing it to his mouth, he brushed his lips against her flesh.
Her voice trembled. “Na-qui-si?”
Shifting her hand to his cheek, he explained, “It means Meadowlark in my native language. As a small child, I would sit in the tall grass and listen to their song. Calming and centering my mind, I would confer with the elders’ spirits. During one of those sessions the horned god spoke to me, calling me to his service.”
The warmth of his cheek crept through the length of her arm, sliding past her chest, feeding her spirit. Her mind spun as he continued.
“I perched upon this tree, and like a spectral songbird you called me to the in-between. To you.” Tim leaned in, his mouth hovering over hers. “You misread my reaction to your kiss, Na-qui-si. It wasn’t embarrassment.” He closed the distance, taking in her breath to mix with his own. Their tongues twisted and danced. They might’ve been in a spirit realm, but he felt solid, firm, warm, and very real.
She should’ve stopped, but Dottie couldn’t. Certainly his air filling her lungs kept her from passing out. The electricity of Tim’s strokes exploring her back, shoulders, and neck kept her pulse beating. Rubbing her legs together, the friction between them could erupt in flames any second now.
She’d never encountered anything this euphoric. The taste of him intoxicated her senses. None of the other cats who’d tried to woo her had triggered such passion. Not even Johnny had thrilled her this way.
Dottie’s mind raged. Johnny. The lyin’ creep told me I made him feel like no other. Then he buttered a no-good, man-stealin’ biscuit. Every guy I’ve offered my heart ta stomped all over it.
She had to make sure she never felt like the backwoods brush ape her parents continued to be. No more being treated like a tomato dame by those who claimed to care for her. She had a brain as well as a voice.
Dottie forced Tim away, scrambling backward. She tried to assemble a coherent sentence. “I . . . I . . . gotta find some fresh air.”
Jumping to her feet she paced, bombarded by emotions about the stranger. Yeah, yeah, she knew his name, Tim’s odd profession, and how he was trying to help her out of here, but it didn’t mean he was the man who’d make her happy forever.
Then why is it almost impossible ta be even mere inches away from him?
A chastity-belt-wearing blue-nose, she wasn’t, but nor would she be an easy biscuit like Violet. Yet, Dottie couldn’t deny the irresistible pull he had on her. When he stood near, she reached for him instinctually. She found it harder to resist by the moment.
Which is why I have ta stay over here.
“What knits your brows and spins your mind, Na-qui-si?”
She dug in her heels, determined to not take a step. Even his voice affected her, tugging her gaze to him.
With his bottom off the ground, he remained low, in a squat. Resting his elbows casually atop his thighs, Tim tented his fingers, tapping his chin.
“I don’t suppose it’s the kiss, but something more.” Straightening his frame, he headed toward her.
Applesauce. This doesn’t work if he doesn’t follow the rules I haven’t laid on him yet.
She threw her palms up. “Spread out. Gimme a little space . . . ta think.”
Dipping his head in a single nod, he took two steps back. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable. My apologies. I’m finding it hard to be around you and not touch—”
“Is that normal? When you help people in here?” Maybe it’s jus’ a weird shifter thing.
His brows drew down tight, the corners of his mouth dipping into a frown. “No. What I’m experiencing is different.”
Oh, thank God. The same incomprehensible drive haunts him too. Why did the notion excite her? The image of them, flesh on flesh, flashed before her eyes. She saw them covered in sweat, pawing at each other in a frenzy of passion. Her nipples twinged. She hungered to be out of control . . . with him.
Hold yer horses. You’ve only known him for . . .
Oh hell, she had no idea how long it’d actually been. She did know it had to be shorter than the amount of time she’d spent with Johnny before falling for him. Yet, never had she desired that cheating creep like this. The urge to wrap herself around Tim seemed a far cry from her time with her ex-fiancé.
Some of the dames hired to sing with her gossiped about finding their one and only. Dottie had never believed in such flimflam. How could anyone need the presence of someone else to be fulfilled?
Tim’s hand rested on her shoulder, snapping Dottie out of her rumination. Heat spread from his point of contact, filling every inch of her, until she sighed. Her soul complete.
Applesauce. Who’s the sap now, Dottie?
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine. “It’s all new ta me too. This place”—she waved her arms wide, then pointed at Tim—“and you. Everythin’ I’m facin’ right now is unknown ta me. It’s almost too much ta take in.”
“We’ll focus on getting you out.” He let his arm drop. “Let’s do our best to push all of our other concerns aside.” A comforting smile curled up and reached his eyes.
She smiled back. “Sounds ducky.”
Chapter 5
Crossing the threshold back to Dottie filled Tim with dread and excitement. He couldn’t wait to lay eyes on her again, but he didn’t look forward to telling her he still couldn’t find where they’d hidden her. He checked three more buildings on the other side of the chain-linked fence, to no avail.
The compound, filled with twelve multi-story buildings as well as multiple smaller ones, made his search more time consuming than he’d expected. His hope of quickly being her hero escaped him days ago.
His difficulty benefited him somewhat because it meant he could spend more time with her. Every day he learned something new . . . and fell more in love. He knew he would love her, but had no idea how overwhelming this thing, this emotion would be. Sure, people tried to explain it, he’d even beheld others experiencing it . . . but the telling failed to encompass the reality.
If she didn’t share his desire and wished to part ways after leaving the in-between, Tim would die inside. Though he’d do as she bid . . . always.
So, he’d let her go to continue her career and find a . . . human husband. Unable to keep away, he would protect her in secret and make sure she stayed safe and no one ever disrespected her. The very idea they might never speak again once he freed her speared him with a sharp pain.
The first time he’d considered the possibility of her not wanting him, he’d grown lightheaded, unable to draw enough air.
He’d sat at the tree’s base in
the living realm until he could breathe again, determining her happiness should be his only concern. Of course, before he crossed to her, Tim also vowed to win her love and take an active part in her joy.
Pledging to be completely honest with Dottie, he never hesitated in sharing every facet of his calling, answering all her questions. Her inquisitiveness delighted and frightened him in equal measures. As much as he loved her desire to know about him, and eagles in general, he feared the next thing he shared might be the one to scare her away. The little tidbit she couldn’t accept.
Dottie’s face lit up the moment he caught sight of her, and his soul solidified. God and the Goddess, please help me, allow my service to let me have a happily ever after. He knew he responded with a goofy smile because it felt alien on his face.
“That’s a ‘happy ta see you,’ not an ‘I bring good news’ face.”
“It‘s almost too big when you have no guideline or even idea where to start.”
“And all those rogue goons creepin’ ‘bout.” Grabbing his hands, she dropped into a seat in front of him.
He followed suit, assuming their routine of the last few days.
Giving his palms a squeeze before letting go, she asked, “Did you grift any info in the real world today?”
Tapping his lips with one finger, Tim said, “Hmm, I might have overheard some—what do you call it—rumble?”
“Oh, what a gumshoe. Let me cut myself a piece of cake while you spill.”
He scrunched his face, trying to decipher what she meant. He’d learned some diesel-speak before meeting her, but she always surprised him with something new.