by Sammie Joyce
“I-I can walk by myself,” she breathed but her assertion was weak.
“I just want to ensure you’re inside safely,” I insisted and she didn’t argue. If she had, I would have dropped it, but I could tell she was trying desperately to trust me.
At the front stoop, I heard the menacing howl of her dog and it made me happy. I was glad she wasn’t there all alone without protection.
“H-he doesn’t like strangers,” she muttered and I realized she thought I was going to try and invite myself in.
“He doesn’t have to worry,” I assured her, taking her bare, cold hand and pressing it to my lips with a slight bow. When I released her, I stepped back, allowing her to find her keys from inside her red clutch.
“Merci beaucoup pour un nuit fantastique, Margot-Celine,” I told her earnestly. “Sleep well.”
I was gone, back to my car before she could ponder my intentions any further.
It had been the perfect end to a perfect night and I’d left things exactly where they should be—with Margot-Celine warm, safe, and confident in me.
15
Margot-Celine
I was still floating when I walked inside my house, noting that Flint had waited for me to secure the door before backing out of my driveway and leaving me to contend with Pascal’s accusing look.
After letting him out the back door, I sank against the sliding doors to stare into the night as I had the night we’d first talked openly. In truth, the fatalistic side of me had not expected the evening to go as well as it did. I hadn’t expected it to go well at all, in fact.
But it had been magical from start to finish, everything carefully thought out and planned by Flint, who hadn’t done one thing to upset me or make me nervous.
Is this something I could pursue? I asked myself but I didn’t want to curse it. Pascal growled and I realized he was standing directly outside the glass, looking up at me with annoyed eyes.
“Mon Dieu. Excusez-moi,” I giggled as I let the dog inside. He gave me a sidelong look and sulked inside. I wondered how he would react to a man in the house.
I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Flint hasn’t even stepped foot in this house.
I locked the back door, ensuring the bar was in place in the sliding door, and closed the drapes over the glass before turning off the lights in the kitchen. I didn’t need the lights on that night. I knew I would sleep like a baby.
* * *
The following morning, I woke with a groan of frustration. My car was still at the school parking lot and I had no way to get it.
I couldn’t call Flint, not after everything he’d already done for me, and I wracked my brain for someone else to drive me to pick it up.
I settled on Lowell, even though I knew it was inappropriate to ask a student for such a favor.
She answered on the first ring.
“Madam—uh, Margot-Celine?” she asked in disbelief. “Is everything okay?”
“Oui, oui,” I laughed nervously. “I need a ride to Novak to get my car.”
I was embarrassed to ask but Lowell didn’t seem put out in the least.
“Is something wrong with your car?” she pressed.
“Non. I was picked up last night by Flint Locklear.”
Now why on earth did I add that? She didn’t need to know about my date with Flint. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel smug about announcing it.
It will put her mind at ease to know that Flint and I are on the same team, I lied to myself. I knew that wasn’t why I’d brought it up at all.
“Flint picked you up.” The skepticism in her tone spoke volumes and I found myself growing slightly defensive. Was it so unbelievable that a man that attractive might find me attractive too?
I quickly realized I was being ridiculous—Lowell’s dubiousness had nothing to do with us as a couple and everything to do with the fact that the last time she’d seen us together, Flint had wanted me dead.
“I-I’ll be right there,” Lowell assured me before I could say anything else. The line disconnected in my ear and there was nothing I could do but wait for Lowell to arrive.
To my chagrin, when she did, less than half an hour later, she was in Kea’s car. The two almost attacked me when I opened the front door.
“You were with Flint last night?” Kea demanded.
“Did he hurt you?” Lowell cried.
I threw up my hands and shook my head vehemently.
“Non!” I snapped, annoyed that they would think that of him, even though I had thought the very same thing myself not long ago. “We went to the opera.”
The younger women looked at me like I was speaking French.
“You what?” Kea choked.
“We went to Anchorage and went to the opera. Well, we had dinner first at Orso and then after…”
I trailed off, a blush creeping into my face. I sounded like a drunk schoolgirl but I couldn’t stop talking. I had no girlfriends with whom to recount the events of my night, no sister I could babble to about the first date I’d had in how long? The words rushed out of me and I was finding it very hard to maintain my professional attitude, even though I knew it was wrong.
“Wow,” Kea breathed, shooting Lowell a disbelieving look. “So you’re dating Flint.”
“I-I wouldn’t say that,” I backpedaled quickly. “We just went out, that’s all.”
“That’s amazing, Margot-Celine!” Lowell cried and unexpectedly threw her arms around me. The unwarranted hug didn’t send me into a spiral of panic and I found myself returning her embrace, a smile covering my face.
It was amazing.
“So your car is at Novak,” Lowell said when we parted, the relief on her face almost palpable. It must have been good to know that her boyfriend’s father wasn’t going to murder someone she liked. Not to mention that the shifter secret was officially sealed from coming out of my lips.
“Yes,” I conceded. “Would you mind taking me, Kea?”
Kea shook her dark head of hair and I grabbed my coat and purse, following them out of the house toward Kea’s Forerunner. It had grown even colder than last night, the kind of chill that you could feel in your bones.
“There’s a big storm coming next week,” Kea mentioned. “I don’t know what that means for Alaska but I have a feeling I don’t want to find out.”
We climbed into her vehicle and bounced down the dead-end road toward town.
Lowell sat in the back as Kea cast me a look out of the corner of her eye.
“So the date went well, then,” she said. I nodded, unable to keep the grin off my face.
“Really well,” I conceded. “He’s very interesting. The history of the shifters is amazing—”
“Wait a second,” Kea interrupted, fully turning her head from the road to look at me. “He told you the history?”
I didn’t know why she sounded so dubious.
“Well, yes,” I replied slowly. Kea’s face pinched into a scowl and she gave Lowell an annoyed look over her shoulder. I wished she’d focus on the road, her expressions making me nervous.
“He doesn’t tell me anything!” she grumbled. “And we’ve known him longer than you.”
Although I wouldn’t admit it to her, the knowledge that Flint trusted me enough to tell me about his ancestors made me feel warm. I hadn’t realized it was a secret to those who already knew about the shifters.
“Well?” Kea demanded, an exasperated note in her tone.
“Well what?” I was confused.
“Well? What’s the history?”
“Kea…” Lowell groaned from the back seat.
“What? Why does she get to know but we don’t?”
I didn’t like her petulant tone.
“That’s not really my place to tell you,” I said simply. “If Flint wants you to know, he will tell you himself.”
Kea’s eyes narrowed, her hands closing so tightly around the steering wheel that her knuckles turned white, but she didn’t press me. Maybe she sensed my in
ner resolve to say nothing.
We arrived at the school and I thanked Kea and Lowell for coming to get me as I climbed out of the passenger seat. It was almost strange to do it myself after how many times Flint had done it for me the night before.
I’m already being spoiled, I thought, shaking my head. Kea didn’t respond but Lowell called out that she’d see me on Monday.
Getting into my Soul, I waited for the car to warm up, watching them drive away, and I thought about what Kea had said about Flint not telling her anything.
Is it supposed to be a secret or is there another reason he won’t tell her?
I vowed to ask him the next time I saw him.
A small shiver of excitement coursed through me at the notion. The next time I saw him. Was there going to be a next time?
I knew in my heart that there would be—and sooner rather than later.
* * *
Before going home, I decided to make a stop at the market, Kea’s warning about a winter storm fresh in my mind. I’d lived up there long enough to know that a potential blizzard could mean days without power. I had a generator, of course, like so many of us did, but I would still need supplies, just in case. I also knew that I’d need to get to the store before everyone else caught wind of what was happening or I’d have slim pickings.
It was early enough on a Saturday morning that the entire town hadn’t gathered to do their shopping yet and as I rolled the cart through the aisles, I began to hum a tune I hadn’t thought of in years.
It was one of my favorites from my teens, a quirky little ballad from a virtually unknown québécois band who had been a one-hit wonder in my part of the world.
I paused to put two cases of water in my cart, the notes of “La Petite Jeune Fille” filling my ears as I chirped to myself, when suddenly, I heard the song externally also.
My blood ran cold, the tune dying in my mouth, but I could still hear a man humming.
My hands went clammy and my eyes whipped around, looking for the source of the music, but I only saw a sprinkling of semi-familiar faces from town around me.
But I knew that hum, I knew that man.
It was Rene. Rene was in the store with me.
There were a million reasons why that couldn’t be. For starters, he was in prison in Trois-Rivieres, five thousand miles away… wasn’t he?
I felt the blood drain out of my face as I pushed the buggy through the store, my ears straining to follow the fading sound of the hum, my head growing light with panic.
As I rounded the corner, I fully expected to see the bearded face of my estranged ex-husband leering at me, but of course he wasn’t there.
And the song had all but faded away, leaving me feeling weak and stupid.
Interesting that you would suddenly “hear” Rene when the prospect of a new man comes into your life, I thought scornfully. Almost as if you’re trying to sabotage your own happiness.
“Mme. Doucette.”
I whirled around and exhaled when I saw Alex Mulligans behind me. Could he have been the one humming?
No one was humming but you, I yelled at myself and the words gave me the confidence I needed to smile at my student.
“Allo, Alex.”
“Getting all stocked up for the storm?” he asked and I nodded.
I was. In more ways than one.
16
Flint
The call from Margot-Celine was both expected and unexpected. I had hoped she would give me a ring after the incredible evening we’d had but I hadn’t thought she would do it so soon. In any case, I was thrilled that she did and I answered the phone eagerly on Saturday afternoon.
“Bonjour,” I said lightly. “Comment ça va?”
“Très bien,” she replied. I thought I heard a slight edge in her voice but before I could question it, she dispelled my concerns. “Would you happen to be free for dinner tonight?”
Again, I was pleasantly surprised and I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.
“Free for dinner with you?” I teased. “I think I could squeeze it into my calendar.”
“Bien,” she said. “My treat, though.”
I didn’t know if I liked that idea but I didn’t want to argue with her about something as trivial as money.
“I’d have to be a fool to refuse such an offer, wouldn’t I?”
“You don’t strike me as a foolish man,” she agreed, laughing. We made plans to meet in town at seven and I found myself looking forward to the date for the rest of the day.
I was there before her, perhaps overeager or maybe because I’d overshot the trip from the compound to Lucette’s. It seemed fitting that we’d go there for a meal now.
I stared at the menu blankly, waiting for Margot-Celine to arrive as I heard the chatter of some of the other tables around me. It was an occupational hazard sometimes, my too-honed hearing picking up on conversations, whether or not I intended to.
“…a doozy. Tons of snow and probably high winds too,” a woman was saying to her companion.
“It’s the same thing every year,” her date complained. “They make a big deal out of a little snow.”
“Hi.” I looked up, slightly startled by Margot-Celine’s arrival. I hadn’t sensed her coming after being lost in my eavesdropping.
She looked beautiful, her face bright and happy as she smiled down at me.
“Hi,” I said, rising to hold out her chair for her as she slipped off her jacket.
“Were you waiting long?”
“No. I got here early. I have a bad gauge for driving into town.”
She nodded and sank into the chair. I set her in and reclaimed my seat, my eyes again traveling to the creamy complexion of her skin. Again, she had forsaken the glasses, giving me a clear view of her golden-green eyes.
“Have you ordered yet?” she asked and I shook my head.
“Of course not.” Again, I had to wonder what kind of men she knew that would order in a restaurant without her. She picked up the menu and peered at it, promptly putting it down just as quickly as she’d brought it to her eyes.
“What?” I asked when she looked at me. She leaned in closer and lowered her voice.
“Can I ask you something?” I shrugged and nodded.
“Sure.”
“Why haven’t you told Kea about the history of the shifters? She’s a little irate that I know and she doesn’t.”
I felt my jaw tighten, annoyance at Kea flooding me.
“I-I’m sorry I asked,” she said quickly, backing up, and I instantly reached out a hand to clasp over hers, shaking my head.
“No, don’t be,” I said quietly. “I’m not angry and you can ask me anything, Margot-Celine. It’s Kea.”
I sighed. Margot-Celine seemed to relax, her hand remaining under mine as she continued to stare at my face in confusion.
“What about her?”
“It’s hard to explain,” I said slowly. “She’s very pushy and asks a lot of questions. It’s difficult to open up to someone who demands answers, you know?”
A bemused smirk touched Margot-Celine’s lips and she nodded.
“Yes,” she replied. “I do know.”
“It’s not just that she’s insistent,” I continued, thinking about Kea’s forcefulness. “She wants to become a shifter and her quest to get there… well, it doesn’t bring out her most attractive qualities.”
Margot-Celine blinked and I had a hard time reading her expression.
“C-can that be done?” she murmured. “Can regular people become shifters?”
I shook my head.
“No,” I sighed. “Of course not.”
She looked disappointed and I wondered if I’d inadvertently put a bug in her ear about something that couldn’t possibly be. The last thing I needed was another Kea poking around.
I was instantly shamed by the thought. Kea was an overexcited girl, one who had no respect for the ways of my community. Margot-Celine was a woman who had no interest in exploiting us
. If anything, she had a healthy fear of the shifters.
Why, then, did she look so intrigued when I mentioned the idea?
* * *
After that initial conversation, our words lightened and we discussed happier, brighter topics. It still awed me to know how well versed she was in music and art. I wondered if she was equally amazed by my knowledge of the same subjects.
We had a wonderful meal, almost comparable to Orso.
“Who says we need to go to the city to appreciate good food?” I chuckled, dropping my napkin on the table.
“I feel like I’m being exposed to things I never would have seen otherwise if not…” She paused and looked at me with stars in her eyes. “If not for you, Flint.”
The affection in her voice was unmistakable and I felt a thrill shoot through me, but nothing compared to the electric shock I got when she spoke again.
“I’m ready,” she breathed, her eyes fixed on me. At first, I was perplexed.
“Ready for what?” I asked, signaling the waiter for the bill.
“Ready… ready to see you shift.”
My jaw slacked. I had promised myself not to bring it up again, sensing that the notion scared her, but here she was, bringing it to me.
“A-are you sure?” I stammered but the question was wasted. It was written all over her face that she was more than sure.
“I am.”
I nodded, again reaching out to lace my fingers in hers.
“We need to go into the woods,” I explained in a low voice. “Far away from prying eyes.”
“Of course,” she agreed and I realized that she wasn’t afraid of venturing into the woods with me. We were making real progress here and it filled my heart with hope.
I paid the bill hastily and in minutes, we were in my hybrid, heading away from town. The ride was quiet, heavy with anticipation, but I didn’t mind it. I was eager to show Margot-Celine the beast side of me without scaring her. I wanted her to look at me with wonderment, not fear.
Through the rear view, I caught a glimpse of headlights and I frowned. The roads I’d taken were barely known yet there seemed to be an SUV following us up the road.