Sighing, I rubbed my hands over my face. I’d get up early and head to the shop to see the damage during the daylight. But first there was one more thing I needed to do. Shifting into my original dual form would help push the worst of the rest of the glass out and keep me from trying to fall asleep in this half form. Right now, I had massive lion fangs, sporadic patches of hair all over my body, and claws on my fingers and toes. Not to mention an extreme craving for bloody meat.
The meat would have to wait. All I had in the fridge were a couple of packets of yogurt and some granola stuffed in the pantry. I focused on my inherent magic, allowing it to wash over me. Soothing earth magic rolled over my body, and I sighed as the feeling of soft winds and blue skies tingled against my skin. A few moments later, my mass shrank, and my human form faded away, leaving me sitting alone on the bed in wren form.
I asked my mother once why I was a Fairy wren instead of a regular brown one, and she scoffed and said, “Darling, the fae does nothing halfway. Why be brown when you can be all the shades of the sky?”
Once I fell asleep, nothing would wake me until the Chimera magic faded away. I hopped onto the windowsill and pushed the blinds aside with my beak. Nothing suspicious leapt out at me, but I stayed there for a couple of minutes to see if Caelan had followed me home. In this form, he could pop me into his mouth like an hors d’oeuvre and I’d be helpless to stop him.
Time was more difficult to fathom in this form, but I stayed on the windowsill for a while until I was satisfied no one lurked outside. I nudged the blinds back into place and flitted over to the little basket I kept on my dresser, outfitted with a soft blanket and a small bowl of fresh water. Ruffling my feathers, Ishook a few more pieces of glass out of my feathers and settled down to sleep.
Exhaustion settled into my fragile bones, and it didn’t take long until I was swept away into a deep, healing sleep.
Chapter
Fifteen
CAELAN
Evie had a pet bird. An intelligent one, it seemed. I lay low, nestled in the fertile ground around her property. Magic permeated the soil and everything growing inside and out.
The grass was soft and lush, and I felt comfortable lying here, even though I was staking out her place. Everything was fertile and green and smelled like the world had before man destroyed much of the land. The health of this soil and the overactive plant life were unsurprising with...whatever the hell Evie was. Floromancer, yes, but she was far more than that.
And she was injured. I followed her vehicle as far as I could, and when I’d lost her in the swarm of downtown traffic, I followed the scent of her blood.
Evie’s blood was curious. Disturbing. Interesting. I’d gone to her shop tonight to—well, I wasn’t sure what the hell I planned to do when I got there—but things had gone downhill fast. Something happened to her, something traumatic. I’d stalked her, and she was bleeding, and I couldn’t stop myself from getting so close to her. In doing so, I triggered some deep memories inside her that paralyzed the poor girl.
I was an asshole of the largest caliber.
Evie’s bird stayed at the window for a long time, far longer than a normal bird should have. I’d never seen one like it around here. It had a mix of electric blue feathers interspersed with black around the eye and was extremely small. The creature could fit into the palm of my hand.
Sometime later, the bird nudged the blinds closed, but I waited an extra half hour before making my move. Skulking from the shadows, I crept down the small hillside and into Evie’s front yard, sniffing around the porch before I went into the back yard.
She had no pets that I could tell and no male at home, nor had there been any male here other than her companion dryad.
The thought sent a disturbing flash of satisfaction through me. I brushed it away, shifted to loosen the small bag around my neck, and shifted in a flash of bright light.
I dressed quickly in a thin pair of joggers and a t-shirt and reached into the bag again and withdrew two long stainless-steel picks.
Most people had a misguided sense of security. They refused to believe things like me prowled the night, or that it was this easy to get into their house. A few careful turns of the picks, and Evie’s lock clicked open.
I opened the door, pleased to see Evie kept her hinges oiled. Bad for her, great for me. But then something else occurred to me. What if someone else tried to break in? I stepped inside and closed the door, vowing to have someone over soon to reinforce her doors and windows.
She needed to keep things like me out of her house.
The thought made me still. Why was I so worried about her? She’d humiliated me in front of the Council, my Pack, and many power players within the state. I’d been furious when I burst into her shop, ready to punish her for what she’d done, but when I smelled her…
I let out a soft breath. She’d done nothing except for what I’d asked her to do, and she’d protected herself with that damn contract I’d blown off. My lips twitched. She was right. The fox had outsmarted the wolf.
Not only had she shown me a display of her power, she’d gone above and beyond and showed me not only how staggering her magic was, but that she had finite control. I’d never seen anything like those automatons, even if she’d pricked my pride.
I stood by the door for a long moment, sniffing out any threats, but the only person who lived here was Evie. For some strange reason, there was no avian scent.
Maybe there was an exit I hadn’t noticed. The bird was teeny tiny and could have made a quick escape. But it was odd I couldn’t smell any trace of its presence. Not that a bird would be a danger to me, but I liked knowing where anyone and everything was when I was in a new place.
A quick scan of the room told me a lot about Evie. She was far from a minimalist. Every space was crammed with books or soft things or knickknacks. Or plants. She had plants anywhere a flat space existed and even where there was no flat space. They hung suspended from the ceiling, from curtain rods, piled on shelves and tables. They grew haphazardly from cheap pots on top of the fridge, on the kitchen island, on the coffee table, on top of the television shelf and fireplace.
They were everywhere.
Every seat and couch in the living room had fluffy pillows and soft blankets. My fingers trailed over one on the back of the loveseat. A discarded mug sat on the coffee table next to a book placed face down. I peered down at the title and almost laughed out loud.
