by Mia Harlan
“Where is Liam?” Betty asks suddenly.
I almost say I don’t know before I realize Betty still thinks I’m Bert. “He’s... outside... in the squad car...” Come on, Violet! Come on! “We went on a donut run...” Way to stereotype cops, Violet! “And I don’t want to lose my place in line.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so,” Betty exclaims brightly. “Are you at Buttercup’s Bake Shop?”
Is that some sort of test? Did Buttercup’s shut down, just like Minerva’s Bakery? Except I’d seen people walking around town with those cute pink polka dot boxes, which is why I take the risk. “Yes, Buttercup’s Bake Shop.”
“Oh, good. Liam loves her berry donuts. The ones with the sprinkles.”
“Yes, of course...” Because the real Bert would probably know that... “But we promised to pick up donuts for the entire station. And Liam has the list. Could you give me his number so I can give him a call?”
A silent moment passes. I think Betty’s going to hang up, or tell me she’s going to call the police, but she starts to recite the number instead.
I grab the pad of paper and pencil from Violet’s nightstand, scribble it down, and hang up. Then I brace myself and call Liam.
Chapter 20
Violet
“Yes?” Liam barks into the phone, and I start to panic.
The troll’s got no reason to help me, none except that he’s my mate. But Nole’s my mate too, and look how that turned out. After almost a year of knowing each other, he still turned on me... while Liam and I literally just met.
The only things I know about the troll are tidbits I learned from Betty: how he cooks the most ‘hearty’ meals. How he’s kind and caring. How dedicated he is to the police force. None of which mean he’ll believe me... or agree to help.
If anything, he’ll probably side with the town mayor. Who—I suddenly realize—probably thinks I’m the one who kidnapped Violet.
“Hello?” Liam demands, his tone curt. Angry. Annoyed. Frightening. Sexy. Tempting. Ah, hell, here goes nothing!
I shift into my old friend so he’ll recognize my voice. “Liam, it’s Violet.”
“Violet? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning!”
“You have? Why?” For a split second, I think he heard I’m not actually eighty, and he wants to give our relationship a chance. Then I realize there’s a much more likely explanation: that there’s an APB out on me and he’s trying to apprehend me.
“I can’t tell you anything over the phone,” he says, which isn’t suspicious at all. “Can you meet me in front of Jewels Cafe? In ten minutes?”
I know I shouldn’t. My gut’s telling me something is really wrong... and that I need to skip town before it’s too late.
But Violet’s still missing, and I already know that I’m going to do whatever it takes to save her. Even if it means taking a stupid risk... like this one.
“I’ll be there in five,” I tell him and hang up before he can say anything else. Then I ditch Violet’s phone, in case the police are tracking it, and race out the door.
The actual flight to Jewels Cafe takes less than a minute—and I do mean flight, since I get there in homing pigeon shifter form. I land on the roof and change into a blue jay shifter, in case the mayor or cops are looking for pigeons, then flit to the nearest light post.
My vantage point gives me the perfect view of my sister, who’s flirting with her mate Julian while the two of them clean the counter. Their easy, comfortable way of working side by side makes me think of Nole and the sting of his betrayal. And speaking of Nole, his older brother, Wes, is sitting at one of the tables, chatting comfortably with her third and final mate, Chase. Amber says something, and when they all laugh, my tear ducts get the best of me. Stupid evolution.
I manage to pull myself together just as Liam drives up. I expect to find Bert in the passenger seat, but the vampire’s conspicuously absent. Shouldn’t the troll’s partner always be with him? Does this mean it’s a trap? Is there an army of witches inside that car, casting a cloaking spell so I’d think it’s safe to approach?
Liam looks around impatiently, and I know I have a decision to make... but it’s not really a decision, since I don’t have a Plan B. I mean, what else can I do? Go inside the cafe and beg the sister who abandoned me for help? If birds could roll their eyes, I would.
I land next to the car and shift. Into myself, which I instantly realize is a mistake, and then into the older version Liam will recognize.
The moment he sees me, he leans across the passenger seat and throws open the door. His arm muscles bulge, and the door swings all the way out, nearly hitting me in the chest. It’s only pure luck that I’m standing far back enough.
“Sorry, Violet,” Liam says with a grimace. “But please hurry. Get in.”
I do as he says, and he doesn’t even wait for me to finish doing up my seatbelt before peeling away from the curb. He proceeds to drive down Main Street like a maniac and takes a right turn so fast I’m surprised the car doesn’t flip.
My best guess is that he’s heading to the police station so he can turn me in... but he turns again, taking us in the opposite direction.
Before I know it, we’re on the road to Scarborough. Liam doesn’t say a word, his hands tight on the wheel at nine o’clock and three o’clock, just like I learned in drivers ed. His eyes keep darting from the road to the rearview mirror, to the side mirrors, then repeat, every few seconds like clockwork. Apparently cops take the rules of the road very seriously.
We’re about halfway to Scarborough when Liam suddenly turns left. He takes an unnamed dirt road, and then another, and another, until suddenly pulling to a stop in the middle of nowhere.
And this is where he murders me.
“I don’t think anyone followed us,” he says, turning to face me.
And this is where he definitely murders me.
“Violet? Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
I nod. Then I shake my head. Because how can I be okay when Violet’s missing?
“I—”
“What is it? Are you not feeling well?” He reaches forward and touches my forehead, like Violet always does when she’s checking for a fever. “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”
Which is when I realize I still look eighty, and somehow, despite the very public scene at the library this morning—a scene his grandmother witnessed—Liam still doesn’t know.
Which is why I do the only thing I can think of. I shift.
Liam jumps. Like, literally jumps. He slams his head into the roof of the car, leaving an honest-to-Chameleon dent, and then he gapes at me... like I’ve grown a second head—and not like he just hit his.
I think it takes him a few seconds to process. A few long seconds that I spend worrying he’ll freak out on me, the same way Nole did.
Assuming he didn’t already bring me here to murder me and bury my body.
“You’re a chameleon?” he finally asks.
I nod, almost afraid to breathe. I’d felt safe around my bear, well, safe-er anyway, and look what happened. Meanwhile, I still know next to nothing about Liam.
An endless moment passes.
Then, Liam’s handsome face suddenly breaks into a wide, happy grin.
It’s the first time I’ve seen the troll smile, and I find myself unable to look away. Liam’s gorgeous any day—even when he’s scowling—but when he’s happy... it’s like a duck turned into a swan.
Not that there’s anything bird-like about Liam—being a pigeon and blue jay shifter all in one day must have messed up my head. Either that or sitting in a small car with the giant Liam, knees almost touching, while I’m hyper aware of how close he is.
“Is this what you really look like, Violet?” he asks, his eyes roaming over me and slowly setting every inch of me on fire. “Is this the real you?”
All I can do is nod.
“You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect!” Liam proclaims. “I’m the luckiest tro
ll alive.”
He kind of reminds me of his friend Bert, who dropped to his knees and recited poetry for Violet. So over-the-top romantic that it makes my cheeks flush.
Except how can I even be thinking about romance when Violet’s out there, possibly already dead... while I’m in here, sharing a swan-worthy—I mean, swoon worthy—moment with my mate?
“Is something the matter?” Liam seems to pick up on my change in mood almost immediately.
“Liam, I... I know this is a lot to ask, and we only just met... but I really need your help.”
“For you? Anything.” He doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second. Because he probably thinks I need him to grab a library book from one of the higher shelves, not risk his life to save Violet.
“This isn’t a small thing, Liam. And you can say no...” Though I really, really hope you won’t. Because if you do, there’s no one else I can turn to.
“I won’t say no,” Liam replies, almost like he can read my mind. “Do you know what it means to be a troll’s mate?”
I shake my head.
“It means I’m bound to you for life. Your servant, your slave, your lover, if you’ll have me. Whatever you want, my gorgeous Violet, name it and it’s yours.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t even know me!”
“Then I will dedicate my life to getting to know you. Starting now.”
He stares at me earnestly, and I realize that I believe him. And that I want him—not as a servant or slave, but as a lover, a friend, a mate. None of which I’ll ever have because there’s only one way I can possibly save Violet—by trading my life for hers.
“Tell me what else I can do for you, gorgeous.” Liam places a hand on my knee, and I fight to hold back tears.
“There are people after me.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
He nods. “There was someone watching your apartment. That’s why I asked you to meet me at Jewels Cafe.”
“Someone? Who? What did they look like?” Did one of them have blond hair, a long, narrow nose, and a scar above one eyebrow?
It also explains why Liam was trying to reach me this morning. Not that it matters. Nothing matters except finding Violet!
“I didn’t, but Bert sensed them. Said they were probably witches using a cloaking spell.”
“Witches... Using a cloaking spell...” I start to tremble.
“You’re safe.”
“No, I’m not!” I shake my head wildly. “They have Violet. And I need help finding her.”
So I can trade places with her before they decide to kill us both.
Chapter 21
Violet
“You need help finding Violet? But aren’t you Violet?” Liam lets out a loud growl that shakes the entire car. I jump and he quickly backs away from me like he’d been burned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to growl. It just happens sometimes when I’m frustrated. I really didn’t mean to scare you!”
“I’m not scared. Not of you.” I cover his large hand with mine. “I’m scared of them.”
“I won’t let them hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re my mate!” Liam bares his teeth, and his eyes glint with murderous rage. Then he suddenly backs away from me, his eyes wide and filled with apology.
“You don’t scare me, Liam.” I give his hand a gentle squeeze. “You make me feel safe.”
Which I have no right feeling. Not right now.
“I’ll always keep you safe,” Liam vows, and I really, really wish it were true.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I tell him gently. “It’s Violet. Bert’s mate. The one I called Birdie. Her name’s actually Violet.”
“Is your name—?”
“Also Violet.” And why does everyone always act so confused when two people have the same name?
“Violet.” Liam nods, like everything’s finally starting to make sense. Then he puts the car in gear and hits the gas, sending dirt and dust flying everywhere.
“Where are we going?” I cry, holding onto my seatbelt for dear life.
“To see your Violet.”
“But I don’t even know where to start looking!”
“I do.” Liam grins and floors it.
This time around, following the rules of the road seems like the last thing on the troll’s mind. He only keeps one hand on the wheel, he doesn’t bother checking his mirrors, and he accelerates until we’re going way above the speed limit.
Within minutes, we pull up at a three-story mansion that’s just on the edge of town—a slightly eerie looking one, with an unkempt front yard and curtained windows, so there’s no way to see what’s inside.
“Are you sure she’s here?” I frown as we slowly make our way up the circular driveway and stop by the front steps.
“Do you trust me, gorgeous?”
I do, but I also trusted Nole, and that didn’t go so well. I’d trusted my mother, and she’d been just as bad. And I’d trusted my sister, but she left and never looked back. So me and trust? Not the best track record. I nod anyway.
“Then let’s go.” Liam gets out of the squad car, and the whole thing rocks under his weight. I effortlessly do the same—young body perk I really, really missed—and when Liam joins me by the front steps, he takes my hand in his.
The troll’s hand is impossibly large, and tingles travel up my arm. Somehow, he manages to make me feel safe and nervous, all at the same time—or maybe that’s just the fact that we’re going up the creepy mansion’s front steps.
The door is unlocked—which really doesn’t make me feel any better—and Liam’s booted feet echo eerily as he leads me down the long, empty hallway. I catch the faint sounds of a piano, an unfamiliar tune that belongs in a haunted house.
If I didn’t trust Liam, I’d honestly think this was it. That years from now, someone would find my remains in some creepy basement, or my rotting corpse in one of the many rooms we pass. But I hold on to that trust, and his hand, and put one foot in front of the other.
The melody from the piano gets progressively louder until we stop in front of a set of double doors. Liam pushes them open, and I gape around the brightly-lit room.
Violet is off to one side, dancing with a handsome man in his twenties who I think she stole from the Renaissance fair. His boots and black tights are relatively normal, but his fancy red and gold doublet and breeches aren’t something I’m used to seeing, not even in a town like Silver Springs.
The man holds Violet by the waist, so her feet are dangling above the ground as he twirls her around the living room. And my old friend is smiling happily while her dance partner stares at her like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
Across the room, a man in his thirties is playing the piano. He’s wearing a slightly bored expression on his face and a mostly normal black suit on the rest of him. That is, if you don’t count the frilly white fabric gathered around his neck. His eyes never once leave Violet’s, but his fingers dance expertly over the piano keys, like he could play it in his sleep.
The only normal-looking man in the room—except for Liam, of course—is Bert. The cop’s lounging on the sofa in a uniform that matches Liam’s. He’s got one hand resting lightly on the sofa’s intricately carved armrest and the other on a book tossed carelessly over one leg. And, like the other two men, he’s only got eyes for one person.
“Violet!” I cry, half-afraid that the three men are kidnappers who are forcing her to dance against her will—but mostly just very, very confused.
“There you are!” She smiles at me, and her dance partner pauses mid-step. “Thank you for bringing her here, Liam.”
“Where is here?” I demand. “Why didn’t you call? Do you know how worried I was?”
“That’s why I asked Liam to get you, dear,” Violet says, even though I’m the one who found Liam. “Now why don’t we sit down and I’ll explain?”
I nod, and Violet does the introductions.
Her dance partner—Aldo—se
ts her down on the sofa next to Bert. He takes a seat on her other side, and his fancy doublet and breeches camouflages perfectly with the red and gold floral couch. The piano-player—Hugh—crosses the room, his large women’s flats clicking against the floor, and settles on the sofa next to Aldo.
I guess that leaves Liam and me on the matching love seat.
The troll takes up most of it, so I end up squeezed between his side and the armrest. He rests his arm on the back of the love seat behind my head to give me some extra room, but somehow it only makes our seating arrangement more intimate.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks, playing with a strand of my hair, and my eyes widen as I suddenly shift into eighty-year-old Violet.
“You don’t need to do that anymore, my dear,” Violet tells me, like it was somehow intentional. And she wouldn’t know, since I may have forgotten to tell her about the source of my wonky magic.
I bite my lower lip, focus on shifting back, and then turn to Violet. “What happened? Why are you here?”
“Well, it’s a funny story, that.” Violet pauses and seems to gather her thoughts. “Bert stopped by this morning and discovered that it wasn’t safe.”
“They found me...” I shiver, and Liam pulls me into his side.
“Bert didn’t see them, but he said he sensed them.” Violet turns to the vampire. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
“Smelled their blood,” he says with a curt nod. “Liam and I decided it was best if we brought my little Birdie out here.”
“I did explain that my name’s Violet,” she adds.
“Little Birdie suits you better.” He winks at her, and my eighty-year-old friend blushes adorably.
“Where is here?” I repeat my earlier question.
“I suppose you could call it a vampire house,” Violet glances at the three men who are squeezed onto the couch with her. They all nod.
“A vampire house...” I repeat.
“Yes. And that’s when I met Hugh and Aldo. My other two mates.”
“Your mates?” I gape.
Violet nods. “Turns out I have three. Now, isn’t that something?”