by Laura Taylor
And then a wave of blue static filled the small space, and suddenly they were sharing the den with a human baby girl.
Dee’s first thought was to shift, a myriad of concerns in her mind. Taya would be cold, her human form completely naked, as this was her very first shift. She would be confused about being a human and would likely cry, and she would need comforting. She would get dirty... Faeydir pulled her up quickly on that one. Taya was a shifter, she emphasised sharply. She was not subject to the normal human diseases that came with eating dirt or being exposed to bacteria, and besides which, humans were entirely too fussy about keeping their offspring clean. A little more dirt would actually do them good, Faeydir told her haughtily. John had lifted his head, no doubt picking up on Dee’s sudden concern, and Dee remembered that he’d told her not to shift unless it was absolutely necessary. Yes, it was sorely tempting, but at present, she was forced to admit that Taya was in no real danger.
At least we know she can shift, Faeydir pointed out, amused at Dee’s apparent oversight of the fact, given how concerned she’d been about it before, and Dee had no reply to that. Taya was indeed a shifter, and apparently perfectly comfortable with it for the moment. She didn’t cry or fuss at all, just groped around, grabbed a fistful of John’s fur and pulled hard... but John didn’t make the slightest protest. He curled his head around and licked Taya’s hair, and she responded by snuggling closer into his fur to keep warm.
Taya stayed in her human form for about ten minutes, then shifted back, and John gave Faeydir a nudge at that point, seeming to decide that this experiment had gone on long enough. Faeydir crawled out of the den again, leaving John to bring Taya, and then she shifted once they were outside, knowing Dee was going to have some questions about what had just happened. Dee picked Taya up once John brought her outside, then waited while he shifted.
“How did you know?” she asked simply.
John shrugged. “I didn’t know for sure. Like I said, I was just working off a hunch. But yesterday when you first arrived, Taya kept heading towards the wolves and away from the humans. So I just thought about that and put a few things together.” He started a slow, meandering walk back towards the manor, and Dee fell in beside him. “The human side of a shifter is by far the dominant part. Everyone says we’re supposed to spend half our time in human form and half in wolf form, and ask anyone on this estate and they’ll say they do. But they actually don’t. If you time it, they really spend about two thirds of their time as a human. And our physiology is dominated by our human side. Shifters and humans can both expect to live to about eighty years, all things being equal. Wolves live for about ten. This whole estate is designed to make life as comfortable as possible for our human sides, but just comfortable enough for our wolves so they don’t openly rebel. We have beds and offices and computers and guns and phones, and no one thinks twice about it. But let out one little howl and everyone loses their shit. The Grey Watch took it to the opposite extreme, so I’m not saying we should deny our human sides. I’m just saying we haven’t really achieved this mythical balance that everyone seems to think we have.”
Dee was listening intently, not at all surprised when Faeydir agreed with John’s cutting appraisal of their lifestyle. “Fair points,” she conceded, “but what’s that got to do with Taya?”
“I don’t know a whole lot about how Nikolai ended up with her, but I can make a few educated guesses,” John said, with a surprising lack of accusation in his voice. “She would have been born in a wolf den and raised by her natural mother for a few weeks. Then suddenly her whole world gets fucked up and she’s in a place with human smells and human sounds and human bedding, and then she realises that she is a human, as well as a wolf, and no one gave her a choice about that – which is not a criticism, by the way, ‘cos I know you and Faeydir have, like, weird shit going on between the two of you.”
After more than a year of living here, Dee was familiar with John’s way of speaking by now, and it was a given that he was going to drop some swear words here and there and accidentally insult people without meaning to, so she didn’t bother taking any offence.
“But the thing is…” He fell silent for a moment, and Dee told herself not to interrupt. It was a rare thing to hear John say this much in a single sitting, and since he’d just solved one of her biggest fears, as far as her children were concerned, she owed it to him to listen. “I was converted when I was… I don’t know, maybe seven years old. And no one gave me a choice about it. And if no one’s there to teach you, then you notice shit going on and learn things on your own.” He sighed, another pause punctuating the conversation. “I think Taya is worried about losing her wolf side. Not at a conscious level, I mean, she’s not really old enough to be thinking anything at the moment. But somewhere, deep down, there were just too many changes too quickly, so she was kind of giving us a royal ‘fuck you’ until someone just let her remember that she’s still a wolf as well.”
Dee couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think anyone but John would have expressed it in quite those words, but the point was well made.
“Thank you,” Dee said, looking down at the precious bundle in her arms. “That’s very insightful. Faeydir will make sure she gets to spend plenty of time being a wolf,” she promised. “And Luke, too.”
“It might be worth bringing her back here again. Maybe, like, every day for a week, or something?” John suggested, in typical teenage fashion, and Dee paused to wonder once again how old he was. Depending on his mood, it could be plausible to believe he was anything from sixteen, through to twenty-five. Which was odd, given that she’d heard from the others that they’d thought the same thing when he’d first arrived at the Den, and that had been about six years ago.
“Do you know how wolf puppies eat?” John asked, suddenly stopping in his tracks and staring at her with a serious frown. “I mean, aside from drinking milk?”
The look on Dee’s face must have said that she did. Wolves would go off to a kill, gorge themselves on meat, then come back to the den and regurgitate the food. The puppies would then enthusiastically eat what amounted to wolf vomit.
John smirked at her clear disgust. “Get Faeydir to do that,” he said, not bothering to hide his grin. “And Faeydir, if she won’t listen to you, let me know, and I’ll talk some sense into her.”
Dee rolled her eyes. That was all she needed, John and her wolf ganging up together against her.
“I will,” she said, Faeydir already having expressed some strong opinions on the way wolf puppies should be raised. “Don’t worry, I think the entire Den is going to be eager to spend time with them in wolf form. Something about puppies just sends people a little loopy.”
As a general rule, Saturday nights around the Lakes District manor were nothing to get excited about. The more reclusive members of the pack simply went about their daily business without paying any attention to what day of the week it was. The more socially inclined might get together for a movie night, the television lounge wafting the thick scent of popcorn throughout the lower level of the manor, or if you were like Raniesha or Tank, a trip to the local club or pub wasn’t out of the question.
For Alistair, though, Saturday nights were one of the few times he felt a real frustration with his life as a shifter. Most of the people they recruited were loners and outcasts, with a dislike of crowds and a lack of patience for small talk. So when you were naturally outgoing like Alistair, it was hard not to notice the distinct lack of suitable companions for a night on the town. He managed to wheedle his way into a decent number of formal functions thanks to his work contacts, but even so, that left plenty of empty spots in his calendar.
Standing in front of the long mirror in his bedroom, Alistair appraised his reflection with a critical eye. He liked to look good even on a normal day and was routinely teased for wandering around the manor in a suit, button down shirt and a pair of leather shoes. Tonight, he had no formal invitations and currently no firm idea of where he was going
to go, only a solid determination that he had to go out somewhere, so he’d chosen a pair of beige trousers and his favourite leather jacket, stylish but not too showy.
So now there was only the question of where to go. Alistair had no insecurities whatsoever about walking into a crowded club and simply starting a conversation with the first pretty girl he came across. As not only an extrovert, but a socially adept one, he was a rare type among the shifters. But at the same time, he’d found they appreciated it, particularly during the yearly Densmeets. Sometimes he felt a little self-conscious about wanting to talk to everyone in the room, but as Silas had once pointed out, if people like Alistair didn’t talk to everyone, then people like Silas would never talk to anyone.
Alistair sighed as he stared at his reflection, knowing he already knew the answer to his own question. He might lie to other people on a regular basis, but he went out of his way to be honest with himself. And the truth was, there was only one place he wanted to go tonight: The King’s Head Inn. He wanted to see Lee again.
The immediate problem there was that he had no idea if Lee would even be there. When they’d parted company, there had been no suggestion to see each other again, no indirect questions about where Lee was staying or what her work commitments were. The pub had rooms for rent, but Lee could just as easily have been staying at any other hotel in Penrith. Pubs were plentiful, and there were dozens of places to find a decent evening meal.
He would just be wasting his time, Alistair told himself sharply, pulling on a pair of shoes and tucking his wallet into his pocket.
But at the same time, the temptation of a short romantic fling was compelling. It had been a fair while since he’d done that sort of thing, given that he had rather more complex desires than some of his Den mates. For Silas, avoiding emotional entanglement of any sort was a primary concern, so he favoured prostitutes; a simple physical release without the risk of complications. Tank had been more laid back, perfectly willing to spend an evening chatting to a pretty girl in a pub, then spend the night in her bed – the fact that he was six-foot-four and drop-dead gorgeous had never hurt his efforts. But he had always made it clear that it was to be a one-time thing, and on the odd occasion that a woman had tried to get clingy, Tank had had no problem politely but firmly brushing them off.
But Alistair preferred to get to know a woman, to learn her passions, her likes, her dislikes, to know something of what made her tick. The physical pleasure was enticing, but he liked there to be a little substance to back it up.
Of course, relationships for shifters were problematic due to the intense need for secrecy, which was why Alistair had made a study of ‘holiday flings’ with women who showed all the hallmarks of being tourists. One-night stands, casual hook ups and even short-term affairs were all permitted amongst his Den, but if a relationship with a human looked like it was heading into more serious territory, the more senior shifters would swiftly shut it down. There were strict policies against converting people just because someone was in love with them, and the possibility of divided loyalties was not a risk anyone was willing to take.
But with Lee, Alistair mused, long-term entanglements wouldn’t be a concern. She’d already said she was only in the country for a week or two, and when her time was up, even if he had developed a lingering affection for her, he would be forced to get over it abruptly when she went back to China. So if she was amenable to it, they could both enjoy a couple of evenings getting to know each other, physically as well as mentally, then they could part ways with some enjoyable memories, but no emotional trauma caused by the separation.
Mind made up, Alistair headed down the stairs, sending a text message to Baron to let him know where he was going, then grabbing the keys to the small, blue car on his way out the front door. Maybe Lee wouldn’t be at the King’s Head, he acknowledged with a shrug. But he’d regret not checking. And if she wasn’t? No problem. Some of his journalist buddies would no doubt show up, or if that failed, he could always find another pretty foreigner to chat with. It was a Saturday night, after all, and the world was his oyster.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lee sat at the side of the pub, at the same small table she’d sat at three days before, telling herself she was being ridiculous. The evening after she’d met Drew she’d returned here, eating dinner alone and spending an hour waiting idly while locals came and went, her evening ultimately a waste of time when Drew had failed to show up. Last night, she hadn’t been here, spending the night examining the wolves’ notorious wall in more detail, relatively secure in the knowledge that her targets were all sleeping safely inside the manor.
And now, here she was again, despite having given herself a lengthy lecture on the futility of expecting one random man to show up in the same pub again. It was an absurd fantasy to think he had nothing better to do on a Saturday night than search for her in pubs, and she had no reason to believe he even wanted to see her again!
This behaviour was unacceptable, Li Khuli told herself sharply. There would be no more of this indulgent nonsense! No more sleeping on the bed, no more hot showers, no more tasting English beers, no more mooning over handsome young men with charmingly proper British accents. She was here to kill a pair of wolves, and her time would be far better spent on devising a plan for how to -
Lee’s thoughts ground to a sudden halt as the door to the pub opened and the subject of her wayward thoughts walked through it. Oh. Well, then...
Drew didn’t look her way, though, and Lee considered whether she should get up and go to him. Would that make it look like she’d been waiting for him? As things stood, she could simply pretend she’d been enjoying a drink after dinner, a totally innocuous thing since her room was on the floor just above them. Would he think her silly if he knew she’d been waiting? Would he be pleased, or defensive about her wanting to see him again?
He went to the bar and ordered a drink, then took an idle glance around the pub. Checking for his friends, no doubt, as he eyed the table they’d been sitting at last time he was here. But he didn’t get as far as looking over into her corner. The bartender gave him his drink and took the payment, making idle conversation along the way, and Lee watched as he took a sip. She forced herself to look down at her drink, not wanting him to catch her staring if he happened to look over. He clearly hadn’t come here looking for her, and she deliberately filled her mind with the image of a man she had once killed. He’d been a wealthy business man, fat and old, and the drug she had slipped into his drink had caused him to have a heart attack. At his age, and with the health problems he had had, no one had suspected foul play, and then she’d slipped away into the night like she’d never existed.
Lee frowned at her beer. Odd. Usually, the knowledge that she’d completed an assignment brought her a sense of satisfaction, of completeness as the incessant tension of tracking and watching and following came to a sudden end, and she’d expected the recollection to soothe her.
But instead, she felt... well, she wasn’t sure what, really. Uneasy was the only real way she could describe it. Anxious was too strong a word for the odd flicker of emotion. Guilty was a ridiculous notion. Li Khuli did not feel guilt. But in that quiet moment in the pub, she had the odd thought that Drew would not have approved of her actions.
How strange.
“You don’t seem to be enjoying that very much,” a voice said suddenly, and Lee looked up with a start, halfway out of her seat and reflexively reaching for the knife concealed at her waist before she’d even realised it.
“Drew! I... I didn’t... Um... What are you...?”
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here again,” Drew said, reaching out a hand to steady her. Though in reality, she wasn’t the slightest bit off balance, despite the way she’d leapt out of her seat.
Lee sat down again, forcing herself to relax, gesturing vaguely to the seat opposite her. “No, neither was I.”
“You decided you like this place, did you?” Drew sat down, reaching over to an adj
oining table to snag a mat to put his beer on.
Lee hesitated a moment. Letting people know where she was sleeping was against protocol... but then again, the owners of the pub knew she was staying here, as did the bartender, and the waitress, and the cleaning maid. Drew was just another random person with no reason to suspect her of any malicious intentions. “I’m renting a room here,” she told him, easing her own nerves by reminding herself that he had no idea which room she was staying in. “I didn’t really feel like wandering the town by myself just to find somewhere to eat.” She didn’t ask why he’d come here again. There was no point in setting herself up to be disappointed if she didn’t like the answer. And then she stomped hard on the niggling part of herself that was insisting it was inappropriate for her to be so pleased to see Drew again. He was a source of information and an impromptu tutor in English culture. That was all.
“Well, I’m rather glad to hear that,” Drew told her with a wink. “My usual crowd hasn’t shown up, and I wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening alone.”
Two hours later, Alistair glanced at the clock, slightly amazed to see how quickly the time had flown. At the time he’d walked in the door, he’d just about convinced himself that he must have imagined how easy it was to talk to Lee. It had been a long day and he’d been tired; a couple of people around the estate had pissed him off... he’d come up with every excuse under the sun as to why he’d been unexpectedly captivated by a dark-haired sprite from a foreign land. But now, after a couple of hours of idle chat, there was no more denying it. Lee was fascinating. Shy, cynical, educated, naive, seductive and utterly guileless, she kept him guessing every step of the way.