I trusted Logan’s promise he could tell when I was ovulating… and not ovulating. Based on the that, I was in the clear, buttechnically, I could be knocked up at any time. “Well, no, I amnotpregnant, but if you must know, I’ve met someone. His name is Logan Blackwood.”
Her face exploded in a wreath of smiles, and she clasped her hands over her chest. “The contractor? He’s successful, isn’t he?”
“That’s the one.”
She froze and deposited her fork on her plate. “But he lives in Willow Creek, doesn’t he? His signs are all over the place. Why have you been in New Port Orleans?”
“I haven’t exactly been in New Port Orleans,” I murmured.
“What’s that?”
“I haven’t been in New Port Orleans. I’ve been staying with Logan.” At least that part was mostly true. “And I wasn’t ready to tell you.”
The silence at the table stretched.
“When do I meet him?” she asked, her voice timid.
“As soon as possible,” I answered, deciding without thinking.
“I’d like that.” Hopefully, Logan was up for meeting my mom. Knowing Mom, she wouldn’t let it go until it happened. “Maybe this weekend?”
“I’m not sure…” My voice trailed away as my inner wolf/bear/cat/whatever scented… shifter magic like an itch in the back of my mind. I leaned toward Jasper. “Something’s happening outside,” I whispered. “Do you feel it?”
“Aye, it’s shifter magic.” He lifted his head. “Somebody’s shifting nearby.”
Shit.
He frowned and tipped his head to the side. “Not strong, though.”
“So…” I considered the implications. “Probably not Acheron? He never shows up with a trickle of magic. He’s either completely hidden or loaded for bear.”
“I’d say not Acheron, lass.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Mom asked.
Before I could answer, the sensation came again, and I jumped up from the table, more than relieved for a reason to take a break from the rest of the conversation I direly needed to have with my mother.
“Mom, I forgot something in the car,” I lied. “I’ll be right back. Jasper, you wait here. Tell Mom about Peaches and Melons.”
Her head whipped toward Jasper. “Youvisitthat place?”
Jasper groaned under his breath and tugged on his beard. Louder, he asked, “Ms. Sophia, can I help ye clear the table?”
Snickering, I strolled out the front door and stopped on the porch. That should be enough to keep them both busy long enough for me to locate who might be shifting nearby.
As I stared, I thought I could almost see a glimmer in the air, wafting almost the way campfire smoke did in the woods.Hmm… That was new. Must be a new multimorph trick.The airborne trail led to the thick, uncleared, and undeveloped forest at the end of the street, so I loped toward it.
The itch in my brain grew stronger, the nearer I got, and I was able to discern more than one shifter somewhere in the woods. Cheap perfume, weed, and body order tickled my nose, and my skin prickled.
Raucous laughter burst through the morning silence, and I angled toward it, mindful of twigs and anything that might betray my approach. I stepped between two pine trees and ducked down behind a bush, watching a group of four olderteens, two males and two females, drinking energy drinks, smoking and laughing. I creeped closer, keeping to the undergrowth.
Just like Logan did… the first time I shifted.I bit back my own laugh.
My mate’s early behavior made so much more sense. It must have been the natural, usual behavior for a shifter trying to check out a burst of magic and whether someone was friend or foe.
One of the young men, complete with a scraggly beard, nodded toward the shorter of the two women with a bright yellow-green slash of color in her light brown hair. “What kind of shifter are you, Izzie?”
She clamped her eyes shut and scrunched her nose. A gentle breeze blew through the trees and circled the teens, spreading a dusting of color. Slowly, she contorted and compressed down into a swamp rabbit, and she jumped out of the pile of her clothes.