The Changeling (Book One of The Síofra Chronicles)

by K. R. Wilburn

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. "No. I'm not into rebelling via tattoos or any other form of body modification or anything that permanent. This is for research for a paper I'm writing."

  I took the book from his hands and stuffed it into my bag before he could take it back. The lie had felt uncomfortable on my tongue, and I wasn't sure why I’d felt the need to fib about a book in the first place, but I wasn’t about to tell Dom that I was obsessing over a vivid dream that had me half convinced I was losing it. No need to send him running for the hills yet.

  "So no piercings or hidden tats, huh?"

  I could see the teasing glint in his blue eyes and smiled, feeling my cheeks warming under his gaze.

  "No. One hole in each ear. That's about as brave as I ever got. What about you?" I tried to catch the waitress’s eye from across the room but seemed to be failing. The sweet smell of the coffee was starting to make my stomach rumble, and I was finding it harder to keep my eyes off of the pastry case.

  "No to the body piercings, yes to the tattoos." He slid the sleeve of his white t-shirt up over his shoulder, exposing a delicate and intricate band of ink encircling his upper arm. The tattoo swirled and wove in and out of itself in a pattern I was utterly unable to follow. I imagined that a tattoo with that level of detail must have taken a great deal of time and money to complete.

  "That's beautiful," I said, reaching across the table to trace the lines with my fingertips. My breath caught in my throat as I ran them over the delicate patterns. He didn't say anything, watching me quietly as I explored his arm. “What is it?”

  “It’s a Celtic knot,” he smiled at me, his eyes sparkling. “It signifies eternity and the endless nature of the spirit.”

  I jerked my eyes up to meet him, wondering what the odds were that he would have a tattoo from the same culture I was currently obsessing over.

  “Tribals are overdone,” he grinned. “And when I saw this in the artist’s portfolio, I knew I wanted it.”

  "So what's it going to be?" an overly cheerful voice interrupted, the quiet concentration with which I was studying his tattoo now gone. I started, sitting back into my seat and stuffing my hand under the table and onto my lap.

  "Just a black coffee for me," Dom said, his eyes never leaving mine. Heat rushed to my cheeks. There was something about the way he looked at me that left me unsettled. Not in the same way that my imaginary guardian had, but comforting and pleasant.

  "And you?" she asked, rocking on the balls of her feet as she awaited my order. She looked like she had been sampling her wares and was ready to bounce off the walls.

  I gave my order, tearing my gaze away from Dom's with no small amount of effort. "Drip coffee—two creams, two sugars please—and a bear claw from the pastry case."

  Dom winked at the waitress and she tittered as she left to get our order. I couldn't help but laugh at the realization that I wasn't far off from having the same reaction when he talked to me.

  "So tell me about yourself," I asked.

  "Not much to tell. I don’t have much of a relationship with my family, and I’m doing my best to enjoy the college experience while I'm young enough to enjoy it. I'm more interested in you. Tell me more about yourself, Cassie. What should I know about you?"

  I arched an eyebrow at him. That was a clever dodge of the question, but I assumed he must have had something personal he wasn't ready to share, and I wasn't exactly the type of person to prod.

  "Hmm, what should you know about me? Well, I'm a middle child. I have an older brother named Elliott. He's in the Army in Kentucky, and he fixes helicopters. My little sister Brittany is still in high school, so she lives with my mom and dad down in the valley. I'm a Libra. I think Firefly never should have been canceled and that the Ninth Doctor is the best out of the bunch."

  I smiled at the waitress as she slid our drinks in front of us and handed me my plate with the sugar-laden bear claw. She gave Dom a blinding smile and bounced back behind the counter. I stirred my coffee and took a sip. Strong and sweet—exactly how I liked it.

  "Does your sister have your amazing green eyes?" Dom asked, leaning over the table on his elbows and staring into my eyes.

  "No," I smirked as I put my cup back on the saucer in front of me and picked up the donut. "As a matter of fact, my brother used to tease me about them. He would tell me I was left on the doorstep or under a rock, depending on which version of his story he felt like telling me that day. He made me cry more than once, the jerk. My mom says I have a great aunt on my father's side who had hazel eyes, so I figure they're a genetic anomaly in my family."

  All Fae have the same telltale green eyes, I could hear Aleksander whisper in my ear. It's the only physical trait that marks you as a Fae. I frowned and stuffed a chunk of the sugary treat in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully and trying unsuccessfully to banish the thought from my mind.

  Dom's blue eyes lit up. "A genetic anomaly? So are you a mutant, Cassie Marshall?" he teased. "Should I be worried about kissing you for fear you'll drain my life? Any super healing factors or other freaky mutant powers I should be concerned about?"

  I chortled and barely managed to swallow before I choked. I took a sip of my coffee and tried to ignore the wild beating of my heart at the sudden mental image of Dom kissing me. Except in my imagination, it wasn't Dom's blue eyes leaning in toward me, but Aleksander's green ones. I needed to get a grip immediately.

  "You're calling me a mutant?" I snickered, trying for lighthearted and probably sounding more like braying donkey. Mutant was better than changeling. "Sorry to say, no professors in wheelchairs have ever invited me to join their special academy for super special kids. I’m just a run-of-the-mill nerd."

  "Oh I love me some nerdy girls. Now the real question is… I die—what do you do?"

  I laughed genuinely now. "I collect the dragon balls and wish you back to life."

  "She's a keeper!" Dom yelled, standing up with his arms raised triumphantly, earning startled looks and glares from the other patrons, and sending me into peals of laughter.

  "Sit down and drink your coffee," I chuckled, my crazy dreams forgotten for the moment. No way was I passing up a real guy who could make me laugh and feel silly and young for a dream guy with a pond full of crazy.

  Dom settled back into his seat, a wide smile on his face as he drank his coffee. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself interrupted by my phone alarm trilling its warning tone.

  I sighed, pulling it from my bag and turning the alarm off.

  "I'm so sorry to cut this short," I explained, rummaging through my purse for my wallet so I could pay the waitress for my drink, "but I've got to get to work. If I'm late, Sharon will have a conniption."

  "Ah, the Dragon Lady," Dom nodded solemnly. "I can understand why you would want to stay under her radar.” He pushed my hand away from the table as I tried to lay down a ten-dollar bill on the table. "My treat."

  "Crazy cat lady is more like, and I can't let you do that."

  "No. I said it’s my treat and so it is. You can pay next time,” he promised.

  "Have it your way," I grinned, happy that he wanted there to be a next time, and stuffed my wallet back into my bag.

  I slid out of the booth at the same time he did and found myself face to face with him. Or rather face to chest. He smelled amazing, and I had to resist the urge to bury my face in his shirt and sniff him like a stray dog. He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, drawing me into a hug, my face smashing into his amazing chest.

  "Can I call you this evening?" he asked, the side of his mouth tipping up in what might almost look like a nervous smile on anyone other than Dom. He always looked self-assured.

  "Not tonight. I’m supposed to hang out with my roommate and our friend. I'll give you a shout soon though?"

  The gold in his eyes seemed to grow brighter and he frowned for an instant before forcing his face back into a smile. "Yeah, sure. But don’t forget me, Cassie. Enjoy your day at the office.”

 
"I can try. I'll probably fail though, just so you know. The office part, not the forgetting part,” I stuttered. “You’re kind of hard to forget.”

  He grinned at me and I returned the smile, draining my coffee and slinging my bag over my shoulder as I reached for what was left of my bear claw with the other hand. Dom's hand shot out and snatched it from the plate just as my fingers were grazing the glaze. I shot him a dirty look as he stuffed my donut in his mouth and winked at me as he chewed.

  "What? I'm a growing boy!" he cheered. I fixed him with my death stare as he sucked the glaze off his fingertips one by one. “You should get going before you're late though. I'm sure Dragon Lady would love to put your feet to the fire. "

  I looked at my watch. Damn it all. He was right. I glared at him once more before I scurried out of the coffee shop and headed into work.

  He was sexy and funny, and he made me laugh with his irreverent nature. I would most definitely be texting him later. That was, if Sharon didn't kill me for running late.

  ***

  Work sucked as per usual. Sharon was in a snit over something completely unrelated to me but chose to make my day hell anyway. After five hours of monotony, I dragged my sorry self back home, exhausted and swearing I was going to find a new job before I lost my temper and quit. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with my book and reread the descriptions. I wasn't sure if I was looking for confirmation that it had been a vivid dream or not, but I couldn't shake my growing obsession.

  Miguel and Becca were waiting for me when I got home, dashing my plans. So instead of my book, I curled up on the couch and listened to Miguel extol the virtues of Ray, the good-looking blond guy he had been laying his game on the night before.

  I loved seeing my friend happy, his dark eyes dancing with excitement as he described the texts and phone calls they had been exchanging all day long. It seemed that Ray was as mushy and sentimental as my friend. Miguel was over the moon and it was only the second day.

  Not that I was any better. As he rehashed their first kiss for the third time that evening, I found my thoughts drifting to Dom and our coffee this morning. I had enjoyed spending time with him but couldn't imagine gushing to my friends about him the way Miguel was gushing about Ray. I wasn't exactly the kiss-and-tell type, which was irrelevant as there had been no kissing to talk about. Not that I would have talked if there had been kissing going on. I wasn't even sure that Dom had any interest in kissing me anyway. He hadn't given any indication that he was interested in me in that way, and I realized that I was obsessing as much as Miguel was.

  "Have you heard from your McHottie yet?" Becca's voice broke through my wandering thoughts.

  "What was that?" I blushed, feeling bad that I had been caught not paying attention to Miguel's tale of romance found on the dance floor.

  "Are you talking about that guy you were dancing with last night?" Miguel asked, his dark eyes pinning mine with curiosity as he turned to face me. He grinned excitedly. "Girl, he was sexy as hell. Please tell me you gave him your number."

  "Um, yeah I did. He texted me this morning and we grabbed a cup of coffee before work," I said, avoiding their gazes. I knew what was coming. I could see Becca puff up with excitement and I groaned internally.

  Damn. Here comes the inquisition.

  "And you haven't mentioned it until now?" Becca shrilled, bouncing as she tried to unsuccessfully to give me a reprimanding glare.

  I rolled my eyes at her. "No? It was only a cup of coffee and we're just friends. Coffee with friends is not exactly BFF-alert material," I laughed, pulling my feet up on the couch and tucking them underneath me. "Besides, we're not talking about me. We're talking about Miguel and his new love interest."

  "Not anymore we're not," he argued. "I meet guys all the time. You don't. So when you do it, it's big news. Stop playing coy and indulge me here. I want to hear all about this man candy of yours."

  My face grew warm.

  "He is not my man candy," I insisted. "He's a guy I had coffee with."

  "And danced with," Becca interjected.

  "And danced with. Seriously, it's not a big deal. He came into the bookstore yesterday looking for something. He asked for my number, but Sharon ran him off before I had a chance to give it to him. I ran into him again last night at the club. He bought me a soda, and we danced for a little bit. No need to start planning a June wedding."

  I shrugged as if it hadn't been as thrilling for me to experience as it clearly was for them to hear about, even though it had been. If I hadn't been so damned distracted by random thoughts of clear green eyes and wavy summer-colored hair during our coffee, I would have enjoyed it even more. Only I would get distracted by someone I’d had a dream about when talking to a very real and very hot guy. No wonder my dating history was so damned bleak.

  “June is played out anyway and all the good venues will already be booked. April’s a better month,” Becca grinned. “Now stop stalling and tell me about this coffee date.”

  I sighed dramatically, knowing that, for all her pretense, she was enjoying dragging it out of me. Becca liked to make a production of things, and since I loved her, I indulged her.

  "It wasn't a coffee date. It was just coffee," I corrected her. "We had coffee and talked, and he stole my bear claw. He reached onto my plate and snatched it out from under me. Who does that?"

  "Talked about...?" prodded Miguel. "Dios Mio, it's like pulling teeth with this one. Come on, Cassie. Use your adjectives. Descriptive words are our friends."

  I grinned at him.

  "Tattoos. We talked about tattoos and piercings and mutants."

  The memory of the feel of Dom's tattoo under my fingers made heat pool in my cheeks. Becca didn't miss a thing and smirked at my blush.

  "So are you going to see him again?" Becca asked, her grin so wide I wondered if her cheeks were aching.

  "I don't know," I told her honestly. "I hope so. I had to leave and go to work. I told him I would text him later."

  "So text him!" Miguel demanded, looking around for my purse. "Where's your phone? You should text him now."

  "Oh, no. Not right now," I protested as he found my purse and dug out my phone. "I just got off work and it's late. I saw him this morning. I don't want him to think I'm clingy or desperate or something."

  Miguel considered my words before agreeing and stuffing my phone back in my bag. "I guess you're right, Cass. Give him a couple days and then text him. It'll drive him crazy. Maybe a forty-eight-hour texting embargo. Oh, Becca! Our little girl is growing up!" He pretended to sniff back tears, and Becca and I laughed at him.

  "Seriously though, Cassie, I'm glad you met someone. It's about time. I don't think I've ever even seen you look twice at someone. I'm not saying you should fall in love every second Tuesday like Becca here...” He cast a sidelong glance at Becca.

  "Hey!" Becca laughed, throwing a throw pillow at his head. "I don't fall in love that often! Lust maybe. Okay, definitely lust."

  I snorted with laughter.

  "Definitely lust," Miguel agreed. "But what I mean is that it’s nice to see you opening up to someone besides us. You are a knockout, honey, and if this guy upsets you at all, I'm totally down to make him cry like a little girl."

  I climbed off the couch and sat next to him on the floor, resting my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around my side and hugged me.

  "Thanks," I smiled at them. "I couldn't ask for better friends."

  "Damned right," Becca grinned, snuggling up on Miguel's other side.

  As hard as it was being away from my family, having friends like them made it bearable.

  I was content to let them continue the conversation while I thought about my morning with Dom. Without realizing it, my thoughts shifted instead to Aleksander. There was something about him that drew my attention. Part of me was sad that he was only a figment of my imagination. I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers through his hair. What a waste to dream of someone so vividly that the memory cl
ung to the corners of my mind.

  Miguel stayed for another hour or so and cooked us dinner. Becca was good at staples, but her restrictive diet wasn't my style, and my cooking skills were limited to boxes of cereal and packets of noodle soup. Miguel lived in the dorms and didn't have a full kitchen, so we allowed him to take full advantage of ours as often as he liked. With the three of us sitting around the living room watching television and eating his delicious food, I was perfectly content in that moment. Life couldn't get better than this.

  After my stomach was comfortably full, the conversation reaching a lull, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. It had been a long day, and I hadn't woken up feeling refreshed. I bid them a good night and escaped to my room.

  I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth before returning to my room and climbing into my bed. I looked at the book of mythology that I had put on my nightstand longingly but realized I was too tired to read it tonight. I resolved to examine it in more detail in the morning and pulled the covers up to my chin, hoping for a deep dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Or maybe I wasn't asleep after all. The tang of salt filled my nostrils, and I jerked my eyes open and sat up so fast it was like a spring had vaulted me back up.

  I was on the damned beach.

  "You have got to be freaking kidding me," I growled, flinging myself back onto the ground and shutting my eyes tightly. If I ignored it, the dream would change. It would go away.

  "That doesn't look comfortable." Aleksander's voice carried on the breeze, and I opened one eye and turned my head toward the sound.

  He was sitting on a large rock a couple of feet away, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.

  "It's not. The sand is damp, but I'm hoping that, if I ignore you, you'll go away."

  "No such luck," he said with a smirk. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm your Caomhnóir so I have nowhere else to be. You are the sole recipient of my attentions."

  I glared at him, ignoring the way my heartbeat sped up at his words.