Page 4 of Shift of Destiny
“Huh,” said Moira. She was looking up where the wyvern and gryphon juveniles had flown a loop-de-loop before zipping off to the north.
"What?”
“Oh, nothing.” She frowned and shook her head. “I’m just tired, I guess. Ever since we left the diner, things keep flickering. Maybe I need to see an eye doctor.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. After a few more steps in silence, she squared her shoulders and gave him a too-bright smile. “You seem to travel a lot.”
His beast inexplicably pushed at him to comfort her, while his human side wanted to keep her safely ignorant of things she didn’t understand and would very likely terrify her. Such as, she was walking in the dark with a dangerous shifter, in a town full of even scarier creatures.
He gratefully seized on the change of topic. “I go where the jobs are. I have a temporary night job, stocking the general store. I prefer woodworking and handyman work, but it’s feast or famine. Construction is a seasonal business, so I’ll probably head up north for a while for the summer. Maybe Canada, where it’s cooler.”
She nodded. “I’d hate to work outside in the heat of the south. I worked on a framing crew for a while in South Carolina, doing hurricane repairs. Most of the crew came from up north and were happy for the work, but the spring heat was hard to take. Summer would be killer.”
“You’ve had some unusual jobs.” He winced, because it sounded judgmental. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
She laughed. “It’s okay. It’s true. I don’t look for them. They sort of find me. Used to drive my parents bonkers.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not cut out for nine-to-five in a high-rise.” The troubled look was back on her face, deeper this time, with a hint of fear thrown in.
He tried for safer ground. “Sounds like you travel a lot, too.”
“Sure do.” Her tone was genial, but her expression blanked, giving him the impression she didn’t want to talk about it.
As usual, he was bungling his end of the conversation, which always happened when he was around an attractive woman. Except she was actually moving closer instead of edging away, so her discomfort didn’t seem to be about him. Maybe it was the traveling. Maybe it wasn’t her choice, any more than it was his.
He’d left his very rural home in the Yukon Territory of Canada when he was seventeen. It was bad enough that his wily wolf-shifter father and rare magical cougar-shifter mother had defied their respective clans to come together as undeniable true mates and conceive a child, which, according to their oral histories, was supposed to be impossible. They would have been left alone if their miracle child had fit in. When the jealous, insecure leaders on both sides discovered that Chance’s beast was neither a wolf nor a cougar and couldn’t be dominated by either, his very existence endangered everyone he loved. Sooner or later, he’d have had to kill or be killed.
So he’d left. He’d knocked around an endless parade of big cities and rural communities throughout North America since then, adding construction skills to the woodworking techniques his father had taught him, and going where he could find jobs. He’d saved a lot of money because he couldn’t think of things to spend it on, other than his truck and tools. Thanks to a magical driver’s license and passport his mother had supplied, he never had hassles with immigration authorities in any country. He missed his parents and hoped they were doing well, but even sending them a postcard would be too dangerous. Their continued safety depended on him not being a wild card in pack or pride politics.
When he’d turned thirty a couple of years ago, his beast had begun looking for a mate with ever-increasing imperative, driving Chance to keep moving even more than he had. He had no idea if that was usual for his kind, since as far as he could tell, he was the only one of his kind. He knew his human social skills were rudimentary, a result of his itinerant lifestyle and independent nature. He wasn’t the type of man or beast a woman would be proud to take home to meet the family.
They turned another corner, and he pointed to Tinsel’s three-story, miniature castle of a house, complete with crenelated towers and granite-block exterior. It was decorated with year-round Christmas lights. Thousands of them. In summer, the house put theme-park palaces to shame. In winter, it could probably be seen from orbit, despite the surrounding cover of evergreen trees.
Moira gasped, then closed her slack jaw with a snap. “Wow.” Her steps slowed. “That certainly explains the name.”
Tourists assumed the owner was just fond of Christmas. Locals knew that Tinsel was a polar fairy, with decorations she’d collected from winter celebrations all over the world. When she’d discovered Chance’s woodworking skills, she’d hired him to build and decorate a miniature wooden sleigh that she used to get around town, since anything but sub-freezing weather was too hot for her to walk in for long. Powered by her magic, it behaved like the scooters he’d seen disabled folks using in the mundane world.
Tinsel herself greeted them at the door wearing a glittery red and green gauzy cloak. “Welcome, dearies, welcome!" She opened her arms wide and ushered them in.
Chance sneezed as he closed the door behind him and felt the magic of her wards adjust to the new visitors. As usual, the scents—mistletoe, frankincense, myrrh, nutmeg—nearly overwhelmed his enhanced sense of smell. His beast urged him to put a paw over his nose and go outside, but he refused to hurt Tinsel’s feelings.
“You have the most amazing house I’ve ever seen,” said Moira, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the elegant, one-of-a-kind decorations that framed the wide entryway.
“Thank you, dearie.” Tinsel pulled Moira in for a quick hug. “I know it’s a bit much forsomepeople"—she gave Chance a pointed look—"but it makes me happy.”
Moira turned in a circle, laughing. “I love it.” Her energy enveloped him like a whirlwind, with an undercurrent of latent magic so subtle, he wasn’t sure it was really there. Everything about her drew him like a magnet, but if she wasn’t a potential mate to him and his beast, sooner or later, he’d have to leave. Better not to start something he couldn’t finish.
And that wasn’t even counting the whole revelation about the hidden magical world, or the beast under his skin. He wanted to stalk her, then catch her and kiss her until they both forgot everything but each other. Adrenaline and desire flooded his system.
A cuckoo clock in the entryway chimed three times, reminding him that he was out of time. “I’ll leave you in Tinsel’s capable hands.” He stepped backward toward the door. “Good luck with everything.”
He opened the door and fled.
