by Tamar Sloan
I know Eden is saying that in a good way, her warm tone tells me as much, but a little part of me has always worried that one day she’ll decide this is far more than she ever signed up for. I know it’s irrational, but love can lack rationality sometimes. I try for a touch of my own heat. “I’m looking forward to the reunion.”
“Just remember that I love you, okay?”
“That’s one thing I can’t forget. I love you too, Eden.”
“See you soon.”
She hangs up, and I can’t help but stare at the phone. Man, we’re acting like lovesick teens. It’s another day apart, not some extended separation.
Impulsively, I send her a text.
Mitch is looking at me as I look up. “She okay?”
I glare at my cell, like it’s its fault I can’t be with my mate. “I hate that I couldn’t tell her why we’re not coming home.”
Mitch picks up the remote, even though neither of us ever have time to watch TV. “I’d be worried too.”
I tilt my head, not sure where that statement came from. “I’m not worried.”
“Ah, except that the last two times you weren’t completely upfront, Eden jumped to some pretty interesting conclusions.”
I frown and turn away. I’m going to put that comment down to first-time-father jitters. Now is not the time to bring up that both times something like this happened, Eden assumed she wasn’t enough. And ran. “We’ve come a long way from that, and you know it.”
Mitch sits, more like flops, onto the edge of the bed. “Sorry, man. You’re right.” He wipes his hands down his face. “I think I’m just getting testy cause this was supposed to be a drive to get some supplies and it’s turned out…”
I flick on the TV, realizing Eden was right. I am tired. Nor does Mitch need to voice what we’ve both thinking.
That Kurt is planning everything we were afraid he would be, but far closer to home than we ever realized.
And that he knew about others like Eden before we did.
Chapter Ten
The letters stamped across the entry are indisputable. It seems Hazel had pronounced it correctly, but we’d spelled it incorrectly. Safe Avery is a raptor sanctuary all right.
And it also bears the name of Eden’s father, the King of the Fae. With all the convenient coincidences yesterday, this was one we had to look into.
The parking lot is empty this early in the morning, which is what we wanted. What’s more, with heavy clouds steadily rolling in, I doubt there will be a lot of visitors today. We stand beside the truck, taking it in. The place is big, and relatively new looking. Tall, chain-link fences angle out from the brick entry. Netting soars high up into the sky behind it like a circus tent.
I look at the closed sign on the entry door. “I don’t think that should stop us from a little sightseeing.”
Mitch flexes his shoulders. “They probably don’t realize that this sort of fencing won’t keep Weres out.”
I flash Mitch a grin. “They know there’s no reason to keep us out.”
All we want to do is find out if this is somehow linked to Kurt…or Eden. Then we head home.
We strike left, following the towering black wire fence. Behind the building is an open courtyard with paths branching out. This is where visitors would stand, poring over brightly colored maps as they decide whether they want to see the savannah enclosure or bird feeding show first.
We just want to see who runs the place.
We keep walking down, but the place seems empty. Well, empty of humans. Once we’ve moved past the bird aviaries, the sanctuary opens out. The fence disappears down amongst some trees. “More of a safari experience down here,” Mitch muses.
“Hazel said there were elk, so that makes sense.”
“Gotta feed the raptors something, I suppose.”
I give him a shove. “Somehow, I doubt they’re here to demonstrate the circle of life.”
A movement catches my eye and I pause, squinting through the fence. For long moments I don’t see anything else, and I’m just about to turn away, when the light catches again. I lean in closer. There is definitely someone down there, but the distance and the long grass obscures them. In fact, there are two people talking.
As my Were eyesight hones in, I yank in a breath. It can’t be…
Mitch has seen them too, because his fingers link through the chain as he peers closer. “Now what’s the chance of that?”
I glance up at the top of the eight-foot fencing. It angles in at the top, more focused on keeping the wild animals in than intruders out. “I think we might need to investigate.”
Mitch steps back, curiosity and a hint of determination glinting in his blue eyes. “Prime Alphas first.”
I leap and grab, fingers spearing through the wire holes. With one great pull and push, I clear the top and land on the other side in a crouch. Mitch is beside me a second later.
One of the men look up, and I’m not surprised that he heard us land even though they’re quite a distance away. His hand comes up to shield his eyes and I make a point of waving.
The blond man’s hand raises slowly in acknowledgement then drops down. I’m not sure whether Orin is happy to see us or not.
Although he smiles as we approach, I get the sense that his equanimity has been ruffled. If he was a calm pool of water, something definitely just caused some ripples, and it’s interesting that that’s us.
“Hey, Orin.”
Orin reaches out a hand and we shake. “Noah. Mitch. What a wonderful surprise.”
I turn to the older man standing beside him, stomach tense. If we’re about to meet another Changeling I’m going to have to do some serious rethinking. Surely, there can’t be that many around here.
But although the man’s brown eyes are narrowed, they’re certainly not tilted. There’s a good chance this guy grew up with his father.
“Noah, Mitch, this is Harold. Safe Avery’s caretaker.”
I reach out to shake his hand too, and I make sure I return his strong, sure grip. This guy is more ruffled than Orin is to see us. “How did you guys get in here?”
I glance at Mitch. It’s time to beat him at his own game. I whack his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t open yet.”
Mitch blinks but recovers quickly. “Then how come that door wasn’t locked?”
I turn back, pulling up a broad smile for Harold and Orin. “We’ve heard so much about this place, we thought maybe there was an early morning tour or something.”
Orin is shaking his head, a smile thinking of tipping up his lips. “Harold, these two men are my family. They’ve obviously stopped off for a visit.”
My smile stays where it is. It seems we have.
Orin’s eyes zero in on me. “How did you find me?”
I stare right back. I’m not making any more assumptions about who knows what or who’s been doing what. “We came across Dana, and she seemed to know where to find you.”
Orin straightens as he sucks in a breath. “I see.”
I wait, hoping for a sign to tell me what that means, but Orin does his statue impersonation.
“That’s unusual.” Harold breaks the staring-standoff, and we all turn to find him squatting on the ground. His fingers brush the matted grass at his feet. I hunch down beside him, curious as to what he’s looking at.
The golden grass is crushed and bruised, which isn’t surprising considering there are now four people standing here. But then I see what he sees. Beside the prints of boots are what looks like indentations in the soil. Indentations what could only be made by claws.
“What animals do you have here?”
Harold frowns. “We have elk and the odd white-tailed deer in here, the savannah plains enclosure, but no predators.”
“No dogs?”
Harold shakes his head as he pushes upright.
I glance at Mitch as I stand, and we glance around. There aren’t any more animal prints, but ahead is a trail where someone has walked into the open gr
assland before us. I’ve either read the tracks wrong, or…
I turn to Orin. “It would be great to have a bit of a tour.”
Orin is studying me again, and I wonder if he’s anything like Eden who can read me like a book. I’m happy for her to do it, but my mysterious mate-in-law? That, I’m less comfortable with.
He nods. “We were doing our morning rounds before we open. It would be wonderful if you could join us.”
Harold grunts. “We check out the elk first before feeding the birds.”
Mitch opens his arms. “Lead the way, Harold.”
A dirt track spears ahead and into the grassland and we follow it, Harold and Orin in the lead, Mitch and I behind. Mitch’s arm brushes mine and without looking I nod once. He just asked if something is up.
I take in the morning sun brushing its light over the sea of grass, knowing there are animals peacefully grazing not far away. I can imagine this place is popular, it’s beautiful and there’s something quite centering about it. “I spoke to a little girl who loves this place yesterday.”
Harold glances over his shoulder, his cranky wrinkles the most relaxed I’ve seen them. “We provide a very unique experience.”
I breathe in the smell of golden grass and blue skies. “I can understand why. This place looks relatively new.”
Harold slows his step so that we come up beside him. Orin continues walking ahead, seeming to be focused on his surroundings. “The owner built it just over two years ago.”
Mitch tilts his head. “Avery?”
Harold’s eyes seem to light up at the mention of that name. “Yes. What an inspiring man.”
I look at Orin’s back, wondering how okay he is with this information being shared. It seems Avery hasn’t been that far away either, and I’m not sure what that means.
Harold has inflated like a proud parent. “He bought the land and built this sanctuary.”
“Wow.” Mitch’s voice is genuinely impressed.
“Being the caretaker is a privilege and an honor.”
I rub my lip, watching Orin as I say my next words. “He must be loaded.”
“This is what Avery does.” Orin doesn’t turn as he speaks. “He invests in reserves by finding those that realize their importance.”
My gaze doesn’t leave his back. “And then what?”
Is it just me, or did Orin just tense a little? “He moves onto the next. His work is vitally important.”
Mitch’s arm brushes mine again. I wonder if he realizes that we’re just as much talking about the Fae as we are Avery. The buying of land and establishing sanctuaries also sounds like the lines Kurt fed Willow, which means once again, he’s one step ahead of us.
“It sounds like important work.”
“Yes. It is.”
I tilt my head even though Orin can’t see me. “What do his children think of that?”
Harold perks up at that. “Avery has more kids?”
Orin turns, his gaze on me and unwavering. “This is bigger than that.”
My hands fist and I consciously relax them. Sick Hazel living in the city that is probably choking her, Willow and her pointedly named step-father, Eden carrying the pain of a wound she had no part in.
I can see what they’re trying to do, but I’m not convinced their system is working.
I frown, a thought hitting me in the solar plexus. Eden and I have proven one thing over and over. I wonder if it will have the same impact on Orin. “What could be more important than the power of connection?”
It’s the foundation of uniting.
The satisfaction at seeing Orin’s calm facade fracture is sweet. His jaw relaxes as his mouth pops open, and his eye widen. He quickly recovers, but it’s too late. His brief lapse just showed me that he’s either thought of this himself, or he didn’t expect me to think of it myself.
The feeling is short lived when Harold’s voice slices through my inner victory dance. “God no.”
We rush forward, turning the bend Harold just disappeared around. He’s kneeling beside an elk, its grass-colored body lying prostate on the ground. Harold raises his hands as he looks up and they’re smeared in coagulated red.
We’re around him in a flash, seeing what brought him to his knees. The elk is dead, and it wasn’t a quick or painless loss of life. Its hind legs bear tears and cuts, but it’s the ragged flesh at its throat that’s been torn and mangled. The animal’s neck is stretched, its lifeless eyes wide with terror, its tongue distended and protruding like it was bellowing exactly how much death hurts.
Harold sags as Orin turns his head away.
Mitch and I step closer, taking in the carnage. I point to the soil not far away, and I can tell Mitch sees it too. Boots lead up to the animal, but something else shredded it.
My head snaps up. “Is this the only one?”
Orin’s eyes widen in alarm before he turns and strides down the track. “Harold, wait here while I make sure this is an isolated incident.”
Harold pushes up, looking like he might disagree. But Orin already has an arm on his shoulder. “You need to look after your health.”
Harold blinks, one hand coming to his chest. He kneels back down and begins to stroke the animal, probably knowing the comfort is too late, but I get the helplessness which drives him to do it anyway.
It’s only a few yards down that we find the next one. Orin kneels slowly as he reaches out his hand. He closes his eyes as he stays there for long moments, silent and grieving.
This time I brush my hand over the coarse fur. The body is still warm. I look up at Mitch. “This was done last night.”
Mitch is already scanning the horizon, thinking. “Do you think he did it, or got one of his power greedy followers to do it for him?”
Tension has my muscles wound up as I clench my hands. “I’m not sure.”
Orin stands, his calm features now grim. “The path doesn’t go much further.”
There’s a sharp left, and I hold my breath in anticipation of what we’re going to see. Around this corner are three elk, alive but skittish. They flinch when we round the bend. Orin walks slowly but surely toward them and the magic I’ve seen Eden weave so many times soothes them. Their heads drop, their taut bodies relax.
I look around, but there are no more dead bodies for our brains to process. Maybe it was just two?
The path looks like it loops back, once again heading in the direction of the main buildings. We move forward, hopeful that the carnage is over.
But over the next rise is the final gory declaration. We move forward in a state of shock, and I try to understand why. This time five elk have been lined up, throats shredded, bodies bloodied. Orin collapses, his knees sinking into the crimson soil. My hand grasps his shoulder, this would be a personal loss to a Fae, not just the violent death of an innocent animal.
I see Mitch scanning the soil and do the same. There are a few paw prints around, and although they’re big, they’re too trampled to provide much information. Any prints deep enough have filled with pools of blood. Just like the last one, there’s nothing but boot marks leading up to the animal. Whoever did this was wanting to confuse, to raise questions.
I look back at the way we just came, then back toward the bird area. The killing seems sporadic, we find elk grazing like nothing has happened, then we find more butchered carcasses. Something strikes me. “They’re looking for something.”
“And leaving a deliberate trail of blood.” Mitch mutters.
I look around. What were they looking for?
Orin shoots upright. “We need to check the bird enclosures.”
Mitch and I follow his frantic footsteps. This time I brush my arm with his, growling under my breath. “We need to stop this.”
Mitch nods, that short, sharp movement saying ‘damn straight.’
Orin heads straight to some of the larger enclosures. A quick scan shows they are intact. It seems whoever did this was looking for the impact of larger animals. Orin looks at us, his
tilted green eyes grieving but determined. “There’s one more cage, but this one isn’t for the public.”
He heads south again, passing through a gate marked ‘Staff Only’. Orin isn’t looking for the signs we are, so I catch Mitch’s eye when I notice the booted prints in the soil. They could be Harold’s, but then again… Mitch’s lips thin as he acknowledges the possibilities. The gate is also intact, which is a good sign.
Tucked behind a brick building is one last aviary, this one a little larger than the others.
Orin’s fingers grasp the wire. “Oh no.”
I quickly join him and brace myself for more blood. But inside there’s nothing but a golden eagle, alive and alert, watching us. “It looks fine, Orin.”
Orin is already shaking his head. “She does.” He turns to me. “But her mate is gone.”
I’m scanning the cage like a second golden eagle is something that would be easy to miss. But the perches are empty, except for the hunkered down bird sitting on the highest one.
Mitch frowns. “There are meant to be two?”
Orin’s arms sag at his side. “Yes, the female was only brought in recently. She had been separated from her mate when he was captured by poachers. He’s been here, healing. They were only just reunited.”
“Avery has been looking after them?”
Orin nods. “Some animals tend to become quite bonded to certain Fae.”
Like Eden and Caesar. Like Willow and her owl, Shamus.
“My father has spent quite a bit of time with these two. The male wasn’t healing, and the female was failing to thrive, until we reunited them that is.”
Mitch narrows his eyes at the big bird that is sitting there, looking at us. “So it’s not okay that one of them is gone.”
“No. They’re a mated pair, the symbol of the unbreakable bond of love.”
I don’t snort, even though I want to. Fae are far more love ‘em and leave ‘em types.
“They are as deeply connected with each other as they are with him. One would never stay behind if the other had gone.”
I rub my bottom lip. “Why are they not with Avery?”
Orin looks away, staring once again at the lonely, majestic bird. “Avery has been spending too much time in cities recently. He is unwell. He needed time to heal.”