What a strange evening. I snorted as I spooned some gelato into my mouth. Plus, her line about me dating?
Laughable.
But as I dug into my gelato, I happened to glance up, only to see a pair of golden eyes watching me. As soon as I blinked, they disappeared as if they’d never been there. A shiver rolled down my spine, and a chilly wind brushed against my skin.
Coincidence. That’s all.
Chapter
Three
The siren might be a pain in the ass, but her gelato was magical. Literally and figuratively. If not done correctly, using lavender in any food product could make it taste like soap. I knew this from unfortunate experience. Sirena’s gelato had the perfect hint of floral with a burst of sunshiny citrus flavor. Combined with the smooth creaminess of high-quality cream and vanilla bean, I went to heaven while sitting on a park bench.
When I finished and was about to toss the container into the recycle bin, a gaggle of fae children rushed past, magic sparkling around them. To a human, the group would seem like adorable, borderline cherubic children with perfect curls and rosy cheeks, and laughter that sounded like bells. To someone with my abilities, all I sensed was danger.
I didn’t like most fae, even though I was one of them. They were too tricky, too fickle, too violent, and too...eager. Fae children were better than adults, but they had zero restraint, and their magic was still unformed and wild. I pulled my legs in tight to my body and sat still on the bench while they passed me.
Just when I thought I was in the clear, one of them brushed a little too close and made skin-to-skin contact. Magic skitteredover my arm, sparking in my blood. Normally, I’d be able to control my shift, but the moon hung heavy in the sky tonight, and the tight grip I kept on my dangerous magic had already slipped once tonight after the shifter had touched me. My already tenuous hold loosened. Fangs poked from my gums, and my eyes turned the strange crimson and gold of my mixed heritage. I lurched to my feet, turning away before I made a spectacle of myself, and fumbled over to my bike.
The fae children didn’t turn back, giggling as they ran through the square, completely oblivious to what they’d done. But I had to get out of here before anyone started asking questions.
Shifters’ eyes could be many colors, but never gold. Only the Shifter Lords’ magic was gold, and no one could explain it because the color was normally reserved for divinity. If anyone spotted me losing control, especially a shifter, I’d be marked for death.
I hissed in pain when I banged my shin painfully against the bike pedals. A few people turned to stare when I muttered a too-loud curse, but by then, I was speeding away, headed straight for the woods.
The wonderful thing about Joy Springs was most of the town had easy access to a large, forested area, kept green by the numerous earth witches living in town. I didn’t know much about how it operated, but the shifters needed space to roam and preferred green things, and the witches could easily provide it. They agreed on a barter, but no one knew what the shifters did for the witches. Since the agreement had been going on for at least a hundred years, it must be worth it.
I parked my bike about half a mile inside the woods, using the kickstand to keep it upright, next to a massive oak tree. Lying my hand against the rough, lichen-covered bark, I soaked in the tree’s unforgiving but gentle strength, allowing it to calm me.
It took a few minutes, but eventually my eyes reverted to their normal azure blue and my fangs retreated back into my gums.
I blew out a slow breath and pressed my forehead against the tree. “Thank you,” I whispered.
The tree’s magic pulsed against my skin in welcome. With a smile, I pushed away and turned my attention to my bike, unsnapping the basket from the handlebars. I needed to forage anyway, and tonight’s full moon was the perfect time.
Magic soaked into the forest, the moon’s rays a soothing balm to my shaken countenance. I’d almost lost control twice tonight, something that hadn’t happened since the first few months after my involuntary change. What was going on with me?
I headed deeper into the woods, the basket’s heavy weight bumping against my thigh. Moonlight filtered through the thick tree canopy, casting the forest in a wash of dappled silver sparkles.
Full moons were my favorite time to gather things for the shop and for my own personal use. Unusual flowers bloomed during this time, and rare mushrooms burst from the ground, there and gone again in the space of a few hours. I inhaled the deep and loamy scent of fertile ground and rare blooms, smiling as a sense of rare peace settled into my soul.
For the next few hours, I busied myself with gathering and communing with the forest, ensuring I asked permission to take its bounty before using my amethyst-tipped silver athame to gather only what I needed, leaving the rest for other witches and spirits, and to ensure the continued health of the plant. As I explored, day blooming flowers opened, sensing my presence and welcoming me into their home.
I used a silver spoon I always kept in the bottom of the basket for gently extricating mushrooms from the ground,keeping them separate from the blooms and wild herbs. Ash was a whiz in the kitchen with any type of fungi. I was no slouch in the culinary arts, but he had a legitimate magical touch with anything I brought home after an evening spent in the forest.
When my neck and back ached from all the bending and crouching, I straightened with a deep sigh, and a wide smile stretched my lips.
A soft sound, not from animal or insect life, came from several feet ahead. I froze, body poised to run, when the noise came again.
Another groan of pain sounded before falling deathly silent. The forest went still. Against my better judgment, I crept forward on silent feet. One of my fatal flaws was being unable to stand anything in pain. Human, animal, or creepy crawly alike, it hurt something inside me to walk away when I could help.
The absence of further noise made it difficult to find where the sound had come from, but I stayed on the path, eyes sweeping back and forth for any disturbances in the soil and leaf cover. Eventually, I came to an open clearing. The scent of blood hit me first, and I stopped, eyes once again sweeping the area.
I closed my eyes and sent my senses out, searching for any heartbeats lingering behind. But there was only one, which was far too slow, coming from a prone figure lying a few feet away.
Swearing under my breath, I turned to run. I couldn’t afford trouble in my life, not when I was barely holding things together five years later. But I couldn’t do it. Whoever was lying there was a person.
I squeezed my eyes shut and blew out a breath. Knowing I’d regret it later, but unable to resist the tug drawing me to the prone figure, I set my basket down and hurried over.
