Time Shift

by J. L. Weil

  Devyn set the keys on a small console table, the clatter echoing across the high ceilings. “It’s not bad.”

  Mouth agape, I fixed him a look. “Are you insane? It’s too nice. We can’t stay here.”

  “Yes, we can. And we are. If this is over the top, I can’t wait for you to see your house in Katsura. Now, let’s have that tour.”

  Oh my god. I had a house in another world. Under different circumstances, this would have been a squeal moment, but I didn’t feel like celebrating. I wanted to ask him more about Katsura and what the home my mother grew up in looked like, but jet lag was really starting to set in. All I really desired was a hot shower and clean clothes.

  A Jacuzzi steamed on the back patio with a view of nothing but remarkable mountains spiking at various heights. The kitchen was a chef’s dream, but not mine. I was more concerned with the bedrooms.

  We rushed up a flight of stairs, and I stared down the hall at three doors.

  “Take your pick, Kitten,” Devyn said.

  Each room had its own bathroom, but the one at the end of the hall caught my eye. It was an oddly angled space, adding to its character. The walls were a warm oatmeal, nothing too flashy. In the corner stood a fireplace, a basket of wood, and pinecones lined the left side of the hearth. Bold cranberry sheets spread over a massive king-sized bed. “I feel like royalty,” I said, joking.

  “You are,” he so kindly reminded me.

  Right. I never thought of myself as a princess, but in another world, I was. “In that case, this one will do,” I said, dropping onto the bed, and my body sighed. It was like sleeping on a cloud.

  “I need to check out the security, and I thought I would order us something to eat.”

  I sat up, my eyes meeting Devyn’s, who somehow managed to make a large room feel small with his dominating presence. “There are places that will deliver here?” I asked. We seemed so far from civilization, I found it hard to believe that a restaurant would be willing to make the trip for a measly twenty-dollar meal.

  “They will if they know what’s good for them,” he muttered, pulling out his phone.

  My lips twitched. Devyn’s way was to snap his fingers and expect everyone to jump. “I’m going to shower,” I told him, rolling into a sitting position. Seeing him in a room with a bed, no one else around, and a need to fill this hole inside me, I almost boldly asked him to join me. Not because I felt impish, but because I didn’t want to be alone. Grow up, Karina. You’re fine.

  Something churned in his eyes, as if he didn’t want to leave me alone. “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything … you only have to ask.” Another few seconds went by before he turned and left, leaving the room.

  I got undressed, dropping my clothes in a pile just outside the door. The bathroom was simple and gorgeous—like the other rooms in the house—and equipped with a soaking tub and a stand-up shower. I opted for the shower and cranked the water to hot. My gut clenched as I stood under the stream, letting the water rain over my skin. My mind caught up on the events of the past twenty-four hours.

  I had done it.

  Here was hoping all my efforts paid off. That my leaving kept my family and friends safe. That I had a few weeks to catch my breath, and get ahead of the danger. That I figured out how to get stronger and gain more tails—what an odd thing to have on my wish list. But it was my life.

  A tide of emotion rose up inside me, and if I stayed in the shower any longer, it would cascade over me. My eyes burned fiercely, but I rubbed at them, refusing to let the tears fall for fear of not being able to stop. I forced myself to take deep, even breaths until the ball of emotion slowly unraveled. By the time I got out of the shower and dried off, I figured it was safe to go downstairs, but my body was demanding sleep, utterly jetlagged. I only meant to lie down for a few minutes, but when I woke up, the room was dark.

  Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I wandered out into the hallway and downstairs. Devyn was in the kitchen on the phone. From the bits of conversation I picked up, it sounded as if he spoke to Reilly, the dragon-shifting bartender. I actually didn’t know if he shifted into a scaly beast, but he had come to my house to deliver a warning, and for some reason, I still hadn’t mentioned his visit to Devyn.

  Leaving the room, I wandered on my own, running my hand along the wood banister coming into the den. The cabin was far bigger than we needed, and the empty rooms made me feel lonelier. A set of French doors led outside to a porch, and I found myself opening them.

  Frigid, winter-like air sank its barbs into my face. A universe of stars hung above me, and the moon painted a hazy glow down the center of the dark sky. It was hard for me to imagine there was a second moon in another world. Moonlight sparkled off the surface of my soul star. I wound my arms tighter around myself and exhaled.

  Everything is going to be okay, I cajoled myself.

  I wasn’t alone, regardless of the emptiness I felt.

  A snowflake landed on the tip of my nose and melted. I lifted my face and another pelted my cheek. In the distance, a flutter across the sky caught my eye, possibly a falling star, but I sincerely doubted it, knowing my track record.

  I rushed to the edge of the balcony, gripping the icy railing. The glittering speck came back into my view, growing closer as it flurried in the air toward me. Considering my life, I should have run inside the house and alerted Devyn that aliens were descending, but my feet wouldn’t budge.

  Somewhere in the darkness, between blinking, I lost the glowing light, and I cursed under my breath. Great, now whoever is out there can sneak up on me and kill me. I’d make a lousy detective.

  “Ahem.” Someone cleared their throat.

  Crap. I swear to God, if I turn around and it isn’t Devyn, I’m going to scream. The bubble was there in my throat, ready to be released as my eyes whipped toward the sound.

  I blinked. Am I seeing shit? Like cute, little pixie fairies? Well, if I am, it’s a nice change from seeing beasts and evil men in business suits.

  The tiny fluttering creature hovered in the air parallel to my nose. Bright red hair floated around her face. She had a dainty nose, and her skin was tinged a purple hue, highlighting her iridescent wings. With a puckered mouth, she eyed me with inquisitive aqua eyes.

  “What are you?” My voice churned with curiosity and suspicion. I lifted my hand, but she darted out of the way before I got too close.

  “You can see me?” The little fairy-like fae spoke with a musical inflection that was enchanting, even to my sensitive fox ears. Higher pitched sounds usually were piercing, but I found her voice very pleasant and soothing.

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied. It seemed odd she asked, considering she had initiated the contact. “Am I not supposed to?”

  Her wings beat almost soundlessly in the cool air. “You’re not human … interesting.”

  “Why do you think that?” I countered.

  “For one, you haven’t tried to capture me like a firefly or swat at me like a pesky mosquito. Humans tend to freak out when they actually see the real me.” She pressed a tiny finger to her lips as if contemplating. “And there is something about you.” She grinned.

  I gasped at her smile, seeing a row of wickedly sharp teeth. “You’re from the other realm, aren’t you?”

  She giggled, doing a backflip in the air that left a glimmer trail behind her, except she kind of stumbled out of the loop at the end. Not the most graceful little thing. She recovered, her wings batting like crazy to keep her hovering in the air. “I’m a pixie,” she informed me, pushing strands of hair out of her face.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Like Tinker Bell?”

  “Who?” she asked, looking utterly clueless.

  “Never mind,” I mumbled, feeling awkward talking to something so tiny. From a distance, it would have undoubtedly looked as if I was having a one-sided conversation with myself.

  She fluttered closer to my face. “Is Tinker Bell another pixie?”

  “Um, sort of.”

  “W
e’re rare in mortal worlds, you know,” she informed me. “I would love to meet her.”

  Not going to happen, but I didn’t want to burst her bubble.

  She kept flapping about, making me follow her with my eyes. “It can be so lonely. You’re the first person I’ve seen in months,” she added.

  I cleared my throat to keep from telling her to stay still. “You have no family here?”

  She shook her head, and the movement threw sparks into the darkness. “I can’t seem to find my way back. Possibly you could help me?”

  I grimaced. “Yeah … I don’t know … maybe,” I sputtered, uncertain what to say. She had caught me off guard, but I’d better come up with an excuse quickly before I found myself entangled in something I couldn’t deliver on. Did I tell her that I’d never been to the Second Moon? It seemed like a good idea to keep my identity a secret, unless I wanted to be found, which I didn’t.

  She landed on the tip of my nose, causing me to go cross-eyed. I don’t know what I thought she was going to do, but it didn’t involve taking a nip of cartilage from the tip of my nose. “Ouch,” I shouted, feeling her teeth sink into my flesh, the pain akin to a bee sting. I swatted at my face before she tried something else. “Did you just freaking bite me?”

  “I’m appalled you think I would attack you. Pixies identify a fae’s essence through taste. You’re a Kitsune.”

  Someone get Tink a gold medal. “Shh,” I hushed her. “Don’t say that out loud.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth as if looking for a stalker in the night. “Why? No one’s near us except for the guy inside the house. Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No … I mean, yes. He’s my boyfriend,” I quickly corrected myself. My relationship was complicated with the Shaman, but for the purposes of hiding, I didn’t think he would mind if people assumed we were an item.

  “Are you lost too?” she asked, a tinge of hopefulness in her voice.

  I shook my head. “We’re on vacation.”

  “And you decided a snowy mountain was better than a sandy beach?”

  I shrugged. “I live near the beach. A change of scenery is enjoyable, even if it’s a bit colder than my blood is used to.”

  “The cold doesn’t bother me. I have a resistance to changes in climate.”

  Must be nice, I thought to myself. I didn’t have such a luxury, and I was beginning to feel the cold. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I suppressed a shiver. “How is it you can’t get back to the Second Moon?”

  She rolled her jewel-colored eyes. “How much time do you have?”

  “Depends, do you plan on biting me again? Just a warning, you do, and I’ll pluck a wing.”

  She gasped. “He’s coming.”

  My heart sunk, a million scenarios running rampant through my head—all of them involving faes trying to murder me.

  Chapter Three

  My eyes darted, looking for danger, and as I glanced over my shoulder, Devyn stepped outside. When I turned back, the pixie was gone, having made herself scarce before he could see her. Interesting. Why would she do that? Was she frightened of the Shaman?

  I believed it. Sometimes the things he made me feel terrified me.

  Turning around to watch him approach, I leaned my back against the railing. The night breeze tousled strands of his dark hair, and I no longer felt the cold.

  “You okay out here?” His voice was rich and sensual, like the first bite of a warm chocolate croissant.

  Was I?

  “What happened to your nose?” he asked, wiping a drop of blood from the tip.

  He was close, and I loved the feel of his warmth. “You don’t want to know,” I grumbled, feeling surly.

  A single brow inched up on his face. “Someone’s hangry?”

  I flattened a hand over his heart, solely because I wanted to touch him. “Does this mean you were actually able to get some idiot to deliver food?”

  “Have I ever failed?”

  “Thank God. I’m starved.” No wonder. I hadn’t eaten anything since Hannah’s party. Lowering my eyes, I felt remorse thinking about Hannah and Jesse, having left without so much as a goodbye.

  They would hate me.

  And I still needed to call Mom. I’d been putting off that phone conversation for as long as possible, but after dinner, no excuses.

  Turned out, I wasn’t as hungry as I thought. After a few bites of burger and a handful of fries, my stomach rejected the idea of me cramming anything else into it. I pushed the fries around in the Styrofoam container. It might have had something to do with the call I was dreading. I had more or less avoided my phone like the black plague.

  “If you don’t eat your dinner, you don’t get dessert,” Devyn stated, smirking.

  I took a fry and tossed it at him. It bounced off his forehead, and I chuckled. Devyn wasn’t fazed. He plucked it up off the floor and popped it in his mouth. My eyes were glued to his lips. Damn. I really wanted to kiss him.

  I swore I hadn’t said that out loud, but the darkening of Devyn’s green eyes had me second-guessing myself. “I think we should skip dinner and move straight to the sweet stuff,” I said, my lips curving.

  Smugness filled his expression. “As much as I would like that, you need to eat.”

  I folded my arms and leaned back in the chair. “Now who’s the buzzkill?”

  “Is that so?” He leaned over, invading my space with his wicked scent. He brushed the hair off my shoulder, and my pulse quickened.

  “Ooo. Have we moved onto dessert?” I asked.

  His voice became warm and smooth. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

  I didn’t have patience, even more so now that I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but time. Leaning forward, I kissed him. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  “Few can.”

  I laughed against his mouth.

  “Don’t stop,” he whispered.

  I pulled back to look at him. “Stop what?”

  “Laughing.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to be happy. I know you miss your friends and family, but it hurts to see the cloud of sorrow in your eyes.”

  I swallowed. How could I tell him I didn’t know if I would ever be happy again? Devyn wasn’t the problem. “It’s going to take me some time to adjust,” I blurted out because his nearness scrambled my ability to be witty.

  “I’m sure we can find something to pass the time,” he whispered, placing a kiss on my neck.

  Butterflies roiled in my belly as I leaned in, pleading with my eyes for him to kiss me, to make me forget this horrible feeling of homesickness that I couldn’t get rid of. Bending down, he nipped at my lower lip, and a tremor rippled along my spine.

  “Make me forget,” I murmured, reclaiming his lips.

  My eyelashes fluttered closed, and my entire body relaxed as I pressed into him. I never wanted to stop because being like this with Devyn made me feel alive. It gave me the drive to fight, instead of curling up in the corner and cowering. The intense heat from his body seeped into mine, taking away the chill. There was such power in his arms as he held me, but at the same time, such gentleness. I’d seen firsthand what he could do, the darkness he could wield, and yet, he only made me feel safe.

  When he slowly pulled away, his warm lips clinging to mine for a moment more, I sighed—the world falling back into place and with it all my fears and uncertainties. His knuckles brushed against the side of my cheek. “It works for a little bit, but the emotions, they always come back until you face the problem.”

  He knew what bothered me. Of course he did. There was no point in trying to pretend to be brave. “I need to make a call, but I’m dreading it.”

  “You don’t want to disappoint them. It’s understandable.” His eyes sweep over the kitchen. “I’ll clean up this mess and you call your Mom. I’m sure she is waiting to hear from you.”

  I nodded, taking my to-go cup of iced tea with me as I trotted up the stairs to the bedroom.


  I was quiet and lonely as I sat on the bed, setting aside my cup. Scrolling through my phone, I pressed on “Mom.” Her smiling face popped up as the phone dialed her number. I listened as it rang. Please don’t let her pick up.

  I was a wuss not wanting to deal with life. Sometimes I pretended I lived in a bubble—the outside world ceasing to exist—except with that type of thinking, people could get hurt.

  “Karina, honey. I’m so glad you called. You’re okay?” Her voice felt like a ray of sunshine through the phone, every fond childhood memory flipping through my head.

  I squeezed my eyes together for a moment. “Hey, Mom. I’m all right. Everything is okay.”

  “Thank goodness.” There was so much relief in her exhale that it stabbed me in the chest. I had caused her to worry. “Can you tell me what happened? It would be helpful if I knew what we’re dealing with.”

  “Mom, you should be safe, and I don’t want you wasting your energy.”

  She tsked her tongue. “I’m not dead yet, and I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. And I have people we can trust.”

  Against my better judgment, I relayed the events with the Camirra, from our first encounter at school to the stand-down at the café. My voice wavered when I told her about Jesse being controlled. I didn’t want to involve those close to me in the dangers of my new life, Mom included. Drawing them in only put them at risk.

  “You did what was necessary.” She sympathized with me, lowering her voice. “I understand that, and I’m very proud of you, Karina. I only wish I could have saved you from all of this. I’ve failed you.”

  “You didn’t, Mom,” I rushed to assure her. “You gave me the most incredible life.”

  “Is that Karina?” I heard my father ask gruffly in the background. Obviously from his tone, he wasn’t happy with me, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “How’s Dad?” I asked.