Eloise’s brow furrowed as she recalled Kyne saying he was surprised his powers worked. Not something she’d wanted to hear while they were trapped underneath a slab of rock, but now it made more sense.
“His powers were gone, weren’t they?” she asked.
Blue nodded. “It seems like it.”
“Well, it seems they’re back,” Vera declared, sitting beside her. “So, you know all about us now.”
Eloise jumped—she hadn’t heard the witch come in. “I doubt I know all about you. Far from it.”
“Kyne can get vocal…if you know what I mean.”
Eloise screwed up her nose. “If this is about you liking him, then you can have him.”
Vera burst into laughter. “Hell no. You can have that grumpy bastard all to yourself. I just like to rile him up. Quality entertainment is lacking out here.”
“I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I’ve got enough problems.”
The witch smiled. “Didn’t I say that Solace likes to help its own. Isn’t that right, Blue?”
The publican nodded. “Sure is.”
“But I’m not, am I?” Eloise asked. “I mean, I’m just here until Wally fixes my van.”
Vera peered at her, her emerald eyes blazing. “Are you?”
“Uh…I guess?”
“What can I get you?” Blue asked, saving her from more of the witch’s probing. “Beer? You didn’t get to finish your welcome drink the other night. Let me make it up to you.”
Eloise shrugged and sat at one of the tables. “Thanks.”
“Beer is just about the only thing you serve,” Vera said. “If there’s another option, I’ve never been offered it.”
Blue looked at Eloise, but she shook her head. “Beer is fine.”
The door opened and Wally came in.
“Oh, Eloise, there you are.” He sat across from her. “I’ve got that part for your van on order. Should be here soon.” His gaze shifted to Vera before retuning to her. “Hardy said you were out with Kyne working in his mine.”
“I was…” she replied, “until the thing caved in on our heads.”
The mechanic paled and stumbled over his words. “O-on t-top of y-you?”
“She knows, Wally,” Vera told him with a sigh.
“Kyne got us out,” Eloise said.
Wally coughed. “So, his powers came back?”
Blue snorted from behind the bar. “Damn mess if they didn’t.”
Eloise sighed and shook her head. It would’ve been nice to know before they’d gotten trapped, but she was beginning to understand why they’d held back. The true identity of Solace’s residents needed to be kept a secret at all costs…even from their own kind.
Wally looked at Eloise and grimaced. “I thought you were special, but there ain’t no easy way to bring it up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I understand.”
Vera leaned over and grinned. “She’s an elemental.”
Eloise flushed as Blue set her beer on the table, all the extra attention making her uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, I still don’t know what it means.”
“You will soon enough,” Vera added. “Once Kyne gets over his opal fixation.” She turned back to the bar, leaving Eloise and Wally to talk.
“Kyne said you’re a werewolf.” She felt silly saying it, but Wally didn’t bat an eyelid.
“Yeah, I change into a big hairy wolf every full moon. It ain’t anything glorious.”
“I didn’t think… Well, I never knew things like that existed.”
“There were a lot of things I hadn’t seen until I came here, too.”
“How did you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t mind.” He waved a grease-stained hand. “Been in Solace for nigh on thirty years. I was one of the first of the Exiles. Back then, Solace was barely a pimple on the arse crack of the outback. It was settled in the early days of the gold rush in the 1850s, but when they found opal instead, it became quite the hotspot.”
“What happened?”
“Opal mining is tough business,” he explained. “People left because it was so difficult and costly to find, and only the hardest of men saw it through. There’s an old cemetery up the road a ways, full of young men who died trying to find their fortunes. Solace has been just as empty ever since. When I found it, there was only the garage, the pub, and a few rundown buildings. A place for the miners to rest and refuel. Blue was here then, but there wasn’t much else. We began to rebuild this place together and soon, more people came.”
“Did Blue know what you were then?” Eloise wondered.
“Not until he began to notice I disappeared once a month…on a particular day.” He shook his head. “But that’s a story for another time.”
“Can I ask…what about your pack? Is there such a thing for werewolves?”
“Oh yeah,” Wally told her, “there sure is, but I’m a lone wolf these days. You’ve seen those Dust Dogs and they’re bad enough, but wolves are capable of much worse.”
There was yet another story there, but it wasn’t her place to ask.
“What’s the difference?”
“The Dust Dogs are shapeshifters. They’re bound to their forms, and they’re born like it, but can turn anytime. Werewolves can only turn on a full moon and are made, not born.”
She swallowed hard. “Made?”
“I best not tell you how. No offence.”
“None taken.” She was glad because her imagination was already running wild. “So…you like it here?”
“Oh yeah, I sure do. I’ve got everything invested in my garage. It gives me everything I need. Safety, security, and I don’t have to hide who I am.” He winked at her. “Well, mostly.”
As Eloise opened her mouth to ask another question, the pub door was shoved open so hard it slammed against the wall.
Finn came storming in, his grey eyes wild with anger. “Where is he?”
“Where’s who?” Vera asked, turning around on her barstool. “You need to be more specific.”
“Drew,” Finn raged. “That little shit needs his throat squeezed.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘throttled’,” Blue mused, continuing to wipe down the bar.
Vera sighed and pressed her hands over her face. “What has he done now?”
Finn jabbed a finger at his temple. “He smashed me on the head with a shovel and left me to fry.”
“Why would he hit you with a shovel?” Wally asked.
“This isn’t my fault, old man,” the fae exclaimed. “The dog was out on my land burying stolen property.” His gaze fell onto Eloise and her heart skipped a beat. “What is she doing here?”
“Hey now,” Blue said, walking around the bar. Compared to the fae, he was a wall of muscle, not to mention significantly taller. “Eloise is one of us. Kyne and Hardy vouch for her.”
Finn glared at Eloise, his eyes blazing with magic. “They better.”
Eloise knew better than to bite back, so she pursed her lips and kept her mouth shut.
“I haven’t seen Drew all day,” Vera said, pulling his attention away from her. “He didn’t turn up for his shift, so that makes two of us who want to choke the life out of him.”
“You tell him if the Dust Dogs come anywhere near my camp, I won’t hesitate. I will fry his arse.”
Eloise watched the tense exchange, her senses crackling. Finn’s wasn’t the only magic she felt in the air—the other source had to be Vera.
“I don’t doubt it,” the witch drawled. “I’m working on a hex as we speak. I just have to find something that rhymes with orange.”
“Nothing rhymes with orange!” Finn exclaimed. “I’m done with you people! Done!” He threw his hands into the air and stormed out of the pub. Vera certainly had a way with words…and quite the aim with potatoes.
Blue snorted and hit play on the ancient CD player at the end of the bar. The opening chords of the Aussie classic ‘The Horses’ by Darr
yl Braithwaite began to soothe the chaos out of the air.
“What was that all about?” Eloise wondered.
“Politics,” Vera muttered. “The fae are a spirited lot.”
“The Dust Dog that was in your shop said Drew took something that was theirs,” she added. “Now Finn catches him burying something in the middle of nowhere…?”
“It ain’t no coincidence,” Wally said.
“That boy has some serious explaining to do,” Blue agreed.
“Forgive me for what I’m about to say,” Vera began, staring at Eloise, “but I’m not sure you have a say in what goes on around here. You’re just passing through, and we’re here for the long haul. Explanations are thin on the ground for the temporary.”
Eloise took the blow, determined not to let her confidence be dented. “Maybe not, but while I’m here I don’t intend to become another target, especially after they pegged me as different.”
Vera raised her eyebrows. “How do you figure that?”
“How do you think I got that guy to back down?”
The witch tilted her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t know how to use your powers?”
Eloise shrugged. “Men like them only respond to threats they know can actually be carried out.” She leaned back in her chair. “When you tell a shapeshifter three times your size that you can give him a lobotomy with one touch, they tend to listen.”
“Nowhere else in the world,” Blue muttered.
“Well, well, well,” Vera murmured, grinning wickedly at her. “Looks like our newest Exile has found her voice underneath all that mousiness.”
Eloise regarded them—the human, witch, and werewolf—and wondered how much Kyne had told them before he’d scurried off to his mine.
“Oh, don’t look at us like that,” Vera declared. “Kyne’s a gentleman underneath all that gruffness. It’s obvious he wasn’t telling us the whole story.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, her rings glinting in the light. “Though I would like to get that vision when you’ve learned how to stop frying people’s prefrontal cortexes.”
“I think that’s enough debate for one day,” Blue stated. “I’m about to set the menu for tonight’s dinner. Any requests?”
Thankful for the distraction, Eloise put up her hand. “Any chance of some chicken parmigiana?”
“Shit yeah!” Blue grinned and clapped his big hands together. “Parma is my specialty!”
Wally chuckled. “You’re going to fit in just fine here, darlin’. Just fine.”
Chapter 10
Despite a long night at the pub, Eloise woke with the rising sun. It shone through the cracks in her curtains, dusting the inside of her van with a burnt orange glow.
Solace was looking different with each passing moment. It was quiet, but it didn’t seem so sleepy anymore.
Wally and Blue had regaled her with stories about their early days in the town last night. How they’d rebuilt the garage, renovated the pub, and set to reopening the general store. It hadn’t really taken off until Hardy arrived and opened his opal business. Then Vera bought the general store, renamed it the Outpost, and the group of Exiles began to grow and thrive.
Finn and the fae had turned up sometime within all of that, and Kyne had been around at least ten years. The Dust Dogs had always been a menace, but their compound had been far enough away that they didn’t bother coming to Solace—at least, not until Drew came, who was the arrival before Eloise.
Coen was an anomaly. No one seemed to know when he’d begun visiting, just that he had.
Eloise was dressed, her bare toes curled in the dirt, and a cup of tea in her hands, when Vera appeared in the yard. She sat on the step of her van—her favourite spot—and was surveying the sunburnt colours of the outback.
“So, this is the infamous motorhome,” the witch said, poking her head in the door. “Cool.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen it before,” Eloise said.
“Uh, n-no,” Vera spluttered, giving away that she had, but just how much, Eloise wasn’t sure. “Can I come in and check it out?”
“Sure. There isn’t much to it.”
The witch stepped up into the van and looked around, sticking her head into the driver’s cabin and opening the fridge. “Pokey, isn’t it?”
“It has everything a person needs,” she replied then stood and put her empty mug into the sink. “Besides, life is about out there.” She nodded outside. “As long as I’ve got somewhere to sleep and cook, it’s all good.”
“You sound like Kyne,” Vera drawled, picking up the hat he’d bought Eloise.
“Do I?” She felt her cheeks pink and busied herself with her boots so she could hide it.
“That man doesn’t even have a house, not even a dugout. Crashes at Hardy’s when he’s in town, which is like never. Lives in a tent and washes in a dirty creek.”
It sounded freeing to Eloise, but she said nothing. No wonder he and Vera had never hit it off.
“What do you do for power?” the witch asked.
“Five-hundred-watt solar panels on the roof. I can hook up to shore power if I want, but I don’t use much anyway. Driving charges the battery, too.”
“Water?”
“I’ve got a one hundred litre tank and eighty litre grey water storage.”
“Cooking?”
“Gas bottle.”
“Hot water?”
“Hooked up to the gas.”
Vera snorted and ran her fingers over the compact kitchen bench. “You really do have everything you need.” She clicked her fingers. “Toilet.”
“In there with the shower. Emergencies only.” Eloise shrugged. “I find there’s a dunny pretty much everywhere you go.”
“Well, thank goodness for that. Even ladies have gotta sh—”
Eloise coughed. “So, what brings you over to the west side of the highway?”
“The west side… I like that.” She smirked. “After last night, I thought I’d come and see what I could do to help.”
Eloise blinked. “With what?”
Vera laughed and waved at Eloise. “Your magic, of course.”
She stepped aside and the witch leapt out of the van. “You know about elementals?”
“A bit,” she admitted. “At least, enough to get you started.” She put her hand on her hips and snorted. “I can’t believe Kyne dropped all that on you and went back out to that bloody hole of his. He should be here teaching you, not scratching around for a bit of fancy rock.”
It wasn’t just fancy rock, but Eloise didn’t think it was a good idea to argue the point when Vera was on a tear about something. She was just as fiery as the colour of her hair.
“He said he was coming back,” she said instead.
“If there’s one thing you need to know about miners, is that if they’ve got even the tiniest whiff of a trace, they won’t raise their heads until they chase it to the end.”
Eloise’s heart sank. “So, don’t expect him any time soon?”
“I’m not, that’s why I’m here to help.”
“Help with my…magic?” It still felt silly saying it. Magic. Eloise had magic. Elemental magic. She wondered how many times she could say the word before it lost all meaning.
Vera laughed. “Duh!”
She blinked. “But…you’re a witch?” Whatever that meant.
“I might not be an elemental, but magic works the same no matter who wields it. It all connects to nature, and nature rules us all.”
“What can you do?” Eloise asked, wondering if all those stories about cauldrons, hexes, and flying broomsticks were true.
“Witches do a little bit of everything,” Vera replied. “Unlike you, I was not born with a preset specialty. I can choose what kind of magic I want to practice and how I want to manifest it. Potions, spells, instinct. Even flashy stuff like this.” She held up her hand and waved it around. Eloise stared in shock as a purple mist began to form around Vera’s fingers. As the witch moved, the colou
r ebbed and flowed, creating a sparkling whirlpool. “But that’s all for show. Real magic doesn’t need fireworks…or broomsticks.”
She thought about the vanilla spray Vera had given her and frowned. “Potions?”
“Any fool can mix herbs together,” she said, closing her fingers around the purple magic cloud, “but only a witch can add her magic to make them work.”
“But how do you get, uh…ingredients?”
“I’m making a study of Australian plants and animals,” she replied proudly. “So far, I’ve found a great deal of useful ingredients, some even better than the originals! Got it all written down in my grimoire. One day I hope to give it to my daughter to pass onto hers, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“You have a daughter?”
“Oh, hell no,” Vera said with a wave of her hand. “Gotta have a dick in my life for that. It’s biology, you know.”
Eloise finally cracked and started laughing.
Vera shook her head and grinned. “She does know how to have a good time. Fancy that.”
Once Eloise locked her van, they walked across the road together. If Vera felt the vibrations underneath the asphalt, she said nothing, and Eloise wasn’t about to ask. The witch might understand, but she was still new here. She might know about the supernatural Exiles now, but it didn’t mean she was one of them.
In the Outpost, Vera turned on the lights. The fluorescent tubes flickered before they settled, the cool white light illuminating the shelves of groceries and oddments.
“Shouldn’t we go outside?” Eloise asked.
“Probably, but there’s no one to look after the till,” Vera replied. “On days like this, I wish Drew wasn’t such a screw up.”
On the mention of the dingo shifter’s name, Eloise glanced to where the witch had flung the potatoes at him. There were no marks on the wall, but the memory was still fresh.
“How do a bunch of white dudes come to be dingo shapeshifters?” Eloise asked. “I mean, dingoes have been in this country for thousands of years, and white people less than three hundred.”
Vera shrugged. “Settlers came into contact with something they should’ve left alone.”
A chill ran down Eloise’s spine. “Like what?”
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