Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters

by Aya Fukunishi, Linda Barlow, Elixa Everett, Virginia Wade, Savannah Reardon, Skye Eagleday, Giselle Renarde, Jessi Bond, Natalie Deschain, Audrey Grace, Francis Ashe, J. E.

  Shamus found her on Monday evening, the same day she had been told she was losing her job, walking through the Boston Public Gardens. The majority of the flowers were in full bloom in each of the garden plots, allowing for the sweet smell of nature to linger in the middle of a busy city.

  He stepped up beside her as she was admiring someone's extensive herb garden. She hadn't heard him come up behind her, allowing for him to take a moment to enjoy the warm and exotic feelings that came over him as a result of being close to her. Despite the fragrant smell of the flowers around them, he still detected a faint smell of peaches that he assumed to be the shampoo she had used. He found himself subconsciously leaning into her, compelled by the sweet scent.

  Urges began to rise up within him. Urges to have her, urges to claim her, urges that the spark provoked, though if he were completely honest with himself he doubted he would have needed the spark to be attracted to her. He loved that she tended to wear skirts and dresses, like the red sundress she was currently wearing: the above-the-knee types of skirts that accentuated her long, toned legs, and lay snugly over her womanly hips.

  "People have been known to use white sage to rid themselves of negative energy and promote good luck," Shamus commented, causing her to yelp in surprise as she spun around to face him.

  Suzanne laughed softly. "Reminds me of something one of those new age, spiritual people would say."

  "Luck is more or less my business." Shamus couldn't help himself from taking a quick glance at her ample cleavage, displayed thanks to the low neckline of the dress's bodice.

  Her bright blue eyes looked at him curiously. "It's funny how I keep running into you lately." She made a sweeping motion with her hand towards the gardens, "and here of all places. Do you have a plot?"

  Shamus shook his head. "No. I just enjoy being close to nature."

  Suzanne's eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down, taking in every inch of him. "You don't seem the naturalist type to me."

  "I could say the same for you," Shamus said with a heart-warming smile. He could understand the reason for her hesitancy with him. It did seem an awfully large coincidence to run into him three times in little over a week. Not to mention he began to suspect that she was feeling the pull between them as strongly as he was. He just didn't know how to explain what was happening between them, without sounding slightly insane and having her bolt towards the exit.

  "Why did you leave so suddenly the other day? At the service station." She crossed her arms over her chest as she continued to eye him.

  "Something came up that I had forgotten about. How about we walk while we talk?" Shamus offered his arm up for her to take.

  After a moment’s pause she smiled back at him and took his arm. "All right." The cotton material of his long-sleeved forest green button-down shirt prevented the flare-up between them. He was thankful for that. He still had to figure out how he was going to tell her what she wanted to know, without having her think him mentally unbalanced. He had no intention of lying to her, but some of the truth he felt he was better off avoiding, at least for the time being.

  They walked arm in arm up and down a couple rows of gardens before Suzanne finally broke the silence.

  "If I ask you a question do you promise not to be offended?" Suzanne asked.

  Shamus clucked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, pretending to think about it. "Seems like this might be an intriguing question, if you're asking permission," he teased.

  Suzanne felt her heart skip a beat, just from a simple look. He seemed to have a way about him that made her feel good. She hadn't noticed it before, perhaps because she was so distracted with the car, but she was noticing it now. She felt comfortable with him, like she would with someone she’d known for years, not like someone she had just recently met and really knew nothing about.

  "What's with the buckled shoes?" she finally got up the nerve to ask.

  Shamus looked down at her with curiosity. "My what?"

  "It's not like they’re ugly – I just," she could feel her face redden. "You know what, I'm sorry. That was rude. Forget it."

  She started to pull away from him, but he held tight to her arm pulling her back next to him, their shoulders grazing.

  "They're part of the uniform. For my job," he looked down at his feet. "They are pretty ghastly-looking aren't they?" He laughed heartily. "You should see the hat that we have to match them."

  Suzanne laughed with him, her worries fading with the laughter. "So you work as a bartender for some Irish pub or something?"

  He nodded, avoiding the question by simply agreeing with the “or something,” in response.

  Suzanne felt the urge to pursue it further, but opted to leave it for now. He'd tell her more when he was ready. It wasn't like they were dating. They were simply two people, who shared an attraction for each other, taking a stroll in the gardens. Nothing more. As she gave him another once-over she couldn't stop her body from heating up at the feeling of having him so close to her.

  "These past few weeks have been a nightmare for me," Suzanne blurted out, not really sure why she was telling him, but felt she just needed to say it. "To top it off, I lost my job today."

  Shamus was silent for a moment then asked in a tone that said he already knew the answer, "Did you really like it all that much, anyhow?" He looked down at her, one eyebrow arched and a hint of a smile on his face.

  Suzanne laughed as she replied, "No." Something about being with him made her feel better. It seemed to turn her pessimistic attitude into an optimistic one; like it was going to get better as long as long as he was by her side. "I hated it there."

  Shamus shrugged. "Then how is that a bad thing?" He stopped in his tracks, stopping her with him. Taking her shoulders in his hands, keeping in mind the need to keep his hands from coming in contact with her bare skin, he asked: "Do you believe in fate Suzanne? In destiny?"

  Suzanne's bright blue eyes looked up into his dark, determined ones. In truth, she had never given it much thought before. Fate. Destiny. "I just don't know if such a thing exists," she admitted, not able to look him in the eye when she answered. When she finally summoned the nerve to look up, she found him watching her intently. There was something about the intensity of the look he gave her that told her this wasn't just a random question he was asking of her. The look in his eyes sent a heated shiver down her spine, making her weak at the knees.

  "I can tell you that without a doubt there is. It's what led me to you," he spoke softly.

  Whether it was the fact that they were in the middle of one of the most beautiful spots in Boston, or the fact that her attraction to him overwhelmed her, or that she just needed the comfort of someone else – regardless of the reason – she couldn't stop herself from sliding her arms up over his muscled chest and wrapping them around his neck. Reaching up to him, her lips sought his.

  As her lips grazed his, the multi-coloured spark seemed to shimmer between them for a brief moment before dying out. Startled, she pulled back in his arms, looking into his eyes questioningly.

  "It's all right. We'll discuss it later," he whispered in her ear before trailing his lips back to hers. As they kissed, his hands dropped to her waist, pulling her tight against his hard, rigid body.

  She moaned as his tongue sought entry into her mouth. His kiss seemed to start an inferno within her, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. As their tongues duelled, her body seemed to sing out for him, her pelvis rubbing up against his hardening member. His hand worked its way slowly up her body to lose itself in her hair, urging her to deepen their kiss.

  As her tongue explored his mouth, her hands investigated the fine definition of his shoulders and chest, over the soft fabric of his shirt. For a brief moment it occurred to her that she barely knew the man she was pressing her body up against. But it didn't seem to matter, because it felt right. It felt as if she had been waiting all her life for his kiss, to feel his hands on her body. Her body cried out for more of him, cried out to f
eel more of his cock, which was hardening against her.

  Summoning every ounce of restraint she had in her, she placed her palms against his chest and reluctantly pushed herself away from him. She stood, breathless, staring up into his dark, desire-ridden eyes.

  "Who are you? Who are you really?" Suzanne’s heart was thumping so hard within her chest, she was certain it was going to explode. She took her lower lip between her teeth to prevent it trembling as she anxiously awaited his response. She wanted to hear the truth, not the nonsense he had been feeding her up until that point. Certainly he had been joking with her, but it was time for him to put the jokes aside for now.

  Shamus let out a loud sigh, running a hand through his thick dark hair. "Everything I have said to you is true."

  Suzanne took a step back from him, then another. Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "You have a wife, that's why you're being evasive. Do you weave these foolish tales about mystical dimensions and destiny with all the women you try to pick up? Or am I the first?"

  "What?" Shamus shook his head. "No. It's nothing like that, Suzanne." As he took a step towards her, she took one back, keeping a safe three-foot distance between them.

  She reached out and touched the bare skin of his hand with her own, causing the rainbow spark to light up. "Is that some type of parlour trick you've devised?" Despite her gradually building anger, the spark sent another wave of desire through her. Heat simmered between her legs. As much as she wanted to think it was a trick, something he had invented, she still couldn't figure out why the touch of his bare skin built up such a deep desire within her.

  "It's all true Suzanne," he protested, taking a step closer, reaching out and touching her bare shoulder with his hand.

  Another spark accompanied a deepening urge to take her up into his arms.

  "All right... Take me there."

  "What? Where?

  "This mystical dimension you say you're from. Take me there." Suzanne tapped her heel-clad foot impatiently on the asphalt pathway.

  "I can't. Humans cannot leave this realm of existence. I would, but it's simply not possible." Shamus cursed himself. He was handling this all wrong, he knew that. But how else was he expected to handle it? If there was a good way to tell a woman you're a leprechaun, then it would have been invaluable knowledge to him at this moment.

  Suzanne laughed; it sounded cold and hollow even to her own ears. He is insane, she thought, disgusted with herself for allowing him to draw her in with his charms, Not married, or just in it for a fling; he's truly insane.

  After taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she had to ask the question looming between them now, "So what are you, if not human?"

  Shamus stepped up to her, closing the distance and placing a hand on each of her shoulders. He looked deep into her hurt, confused eyes before telling her in a hushed tone: "Suzanne, I'm a leprechaun."

  Suzanne looked down at the ground, focusing her attention on a single ant that was bustling its busy way between their feet. Finally she looked back up at him and nodded. "Good-bye Shamus." She brushed past him, making her way to the gardens’ exit as he stood watching her leave. Go figure, first man I've been attracted to in months and he's a few bricks short of a load.

  "Leprechauns. Pfft," she muttered under her breath.

  Suzanne had almost made it to the exit when her mobile phone rang. She halted in her tracks and rummaged through the contents of her overloaded handbag until she found her cellular phone. She flipped it open with one hand on the fourth ring. "Hello."

  "Miss Winters?" She didn't recognize the telephone number or the male voice on the other end of the call.

  "Speaking." Suzanne looked back to where she had left Shamus. He was gone. Another one of his Houdini disappearing acts.

  "This is Ralph Green from Sterling Industries. You interviewed for a position with us a couple of months ago. The position re-opened and we were calling to see if you were still interested in the job?"

  If that isn't a lucky break I don't know what is, she thought, scanning the gardens for any sign of Shamus. None. She had to admit that she did seem to catch the lucky breaks when he was nearby. She refused to entertain the idea of him being a leprechaun; her upturn of luck in his presence was merely coincidence. Nothing more.

  "Miss Winters?" Ralph's voice cut into her thoughts.

  "Of course. I would love the opportunity to work at Sterling. When is the start date?" Excitement rushed through her veins. The job was a recruiter's job in the human resources department, just the type of job she'd been hoping for. The type of job she went to college for! She'd finally get to justify the thousands of dollars she'd spent on her education.

  "We would like to have you start next Monday. Would that be suitable?"

  "Perfect." A wide smile lit up Suzanne's features. If it hadn't been for an older couple walking past her, she might have leapt into the air and let out a loud whoop.

  "See you then, Miss Winters. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to call and ask for Ralph Green."

  "Fantastic. Thank you, Mr Green."

  "Have a good day Miss Winters." Without another word from Ralph Green the call ended.

  ****

  The encounter with Suzanne had not gone as well as Shamus had hoped. If he was completely honest with himself he would have admitted it went horribly. Suzanne thought he was mentally unbalanced. Of course she would. Why wouldn't she?

  "Suzanne, I'm a leprechaun," he muttered, mocking himself. Crouched in front of his pot of molten gold, he watched her. She had gotten the job she had been wanting and her day was going much better again, but he could feel her luck draining. Yet again. Like a car battery that couldn't keep its charge, Suzanne couldn't keep luck and he couldn't seem to help her unless he was near her.

  As the evening turned into night her luck continued to drain. As her luck ebbed, the call to go to her grew within him. She needed him. Again. He'd be able to ignore the call for another day, perhaps two, but no longer than that.

  Shamus rocked back on his heels as he thought over the situation.

  Something was wrong.

  Her luck should have been renewed and remained after a single touch from him. But even a kiss, deep and filled with desire couldn't keep her luck running. His cock twitched thinking about how amazing her soft, sensual body felt against his earlier that day.

  Frustrated, both mentally and physically, Shamus stood up. As he stood, the molten gold solidified into thousands of golden coins and nuggets.

  Shamus wasn't certain what was wrong with Suzanne, what was hampering her luck, but he knew someone who would.

  Chapter 5

  Wisdom Falls was a visually stunning area. Instead of a blue sky, the sky in the Falls swirled with hundreds of pastel colours, the colours shifting, turning and merging in no logical direction or pattern. Shamus had seen the wondrous sight a number of times, but each time he entered this zone he still needed to take a moment to bask in its beauty. Apart from the sky, the land was similar to that in Leprechaun Valley, green and full of life.

  It was protected from all forms of magic, except that of the oracles. Its protective barrier ensured no other mystical entities could enter and force their will on the oracles. The oracles themselves were powerful seers; if their wisdom and knowledge fell into the wrong hands, it could tip the universal balance of good and evil. They only gave information if the said information would not alter or disturb the grand design, and more importantly to them, if the one asking for assistance had something worth offering in trade for their services.

  Shamus had come to see Oriena. He had known Oriena for close to a century, but more importantly she owed him. He'd saved her life several decades ago and it was time to collect on the debt owed.

  He called out her name as he entered her home, which resembled a large white tent. The material it was made from felt similar to a fine satin. She was in the first room, the main room, chanting in an ancient tongue he had yet to
learn, her back turned to him, deep in meditation. Shamus knew the routine. She would greet him when she was finished, and not a second earlier.

  He surveyed the room. It was barren with the exception of numerous white pillows, meant to be used as chairs, which littered the white marble floor. Shamus walked over to one group of pillows and sat, waiting patiently.

  "Shamus," her voice, soft and serene, brought him to full attention.

  "Oriena."

  "Don't get up," she said as she stood, turning to face him.

  Oriena stepped towards him, though she seemed to float rather than walk. Her long black hair hung loose down her back. Her pearl white all-knowing eyes peered at him. No, peered into him.

  Shamus couldn't help but drop his gaze to take in each and every inch of her. The garment she wore was made of a sheer transparent white material. He could see each and every inch of her body nearly as well as if she wore nothing at all.

  "You're here about the girl," she said as she lowered herself beside him, lying on her side and facing him. She reached out one long elegant finger and traced the outer side of his leg, from knee to hip.

  Shamus's breath caught in his throat as her hand made its way back down, but this time she traced the inner side of his leg.

  "Yes. I..."

  She raised a slender finger to his lips cutting him off in mid-sentence.

  "The spark is not a mistake. It is a destined union." She rolled onto her back, and stretched, arching her back as a cat would. Her breasts strained against the material covering it, giving him an excellent view of her tight, pink nipples.