Page 7 of Medium
Goal orientation
Helpfulness
Problem-solving
Interest in criminal justice or social work
CHAPTER 2
ELLIS
Holy fucking fuck.
Next to me, Shane glanced back at Ms. Jackson, who was lying flat on the rear seat, their tail twitching in time to the 80s song on the radio. He widened his eyes at me, and I bugged out mine back at him. Ms. Jackson’s demonstration of their abilities had been unreal.
I didn’t know of any beings on Earth who could use magic like that. I mean, we’d all heard stories about the Elves, and how they’d been able to use magic to manipulate objects and their environment, but I didn’t think Elves started out their lives as magical artifacts.
It wasn’t a mystery I could solve right then, so I shoved it aside to worry about later.
I followed Greg and Cal out of the parking lot to go over to their new house. Okay, I was pretty sure Greg was technically the sole owner, but given the bond between them, Cal would be moving in too. Their bond was only two weeks old; they wouldn’t be able to be apart from each other much yet.
I checked on Shane again, but he’d relaxed into his seat, tapping his fingers on his leg to the music. Ms. Jackson hadintimidated him when we’d gotten to Cal’s place, but he seemed to have adjusted to their presence, even with the freaky display of magic.
He noticed me looking at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Damn, I could not get enough of that smile, with his wide, pink lips and white teeth against his tanned skin and coarse black stubble. I couldn’t help but imagine those lips around my dick, and it made me hard and slightly embarrassed at the same time.
DMs didn’t bond with DMs. We were both nesting, so our mates would be arriving in our lives at any moment. Having sex with Shane—eventhinkingabout having sex with Shane—would be a disservice and an insult to our future mates.
Dammit.
Greg wound through a residential neighborhood before parking in front of a house currently being remodeled. The roof looked new, but the green paint was peeling and a few shutters were missing. A dumpster took up half the driveway, and two cars were lined up in the other half, so I pulled in behind Greg at the curb.
Ms. Jackson bumped their forehead against the door, waiting to be let out. Probably more fun to join us than stay in the car. Shane stepped out and, after scanning the completely empty street, opened the door for them.
Greg and Cal walked across the yard to meet us, and we followed them up to the front door. Greg knocked as he opened it, calling out, “Hello? Ruben? Kayla?”
“Hey, Greg and Cal, good to see you.” An enormous man, a porcupine shifter with their typical brown-blond hair, came out of the stripped-down kitchen. A much smaller young woman, also a porcupine shifter, walked out behind him.
Greg and Cal shook their hands, then Greg gestured at me and Shane. “Ruben and Kayla Tooley, this is Ellis, the DM of the Northeast District, and Shane, the DM of the Southeast District. And this is Ms. Jackson.” He put his hand on their back. “Everyone, Kayla is Ruben’s daughter. They both travel frequently. Kayla visits Houston, and Ruben goes back and forth to Dallas and Ft. Worth.”
Shane and I shook hands with Ruben and Kayla, and they both waved awkwardly at Ms. Jackson. Once the pleasantries were over, Greg offered us a tour before we got down to the connecting.
The house was old. Probably not as old as Shane’s place, but old enough to have been in pretty bad shape before Ruben started working on it. As it stood now, almost all of the fixtures, cabinets, and flooring had been ripped out. The kitchen walls were still covered in some godawful wallpaper, but there weren’t any countertops or appliances. The only intact rooms were a huge game room upstairs and an office in what had once been the attic. I could absolutely picture Cal working up there at the top of the house.
When we returned to the ground floor, Ruben said, “I’ve got some folding chairs on the back deck, if you’d like to do the connections out there.”
