Chapter 5
The cup of jasmine tea slipped from Katra’s hands, and by the time it hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces, she already had one of her .45’s in her hands that she’d pulled from where they were tucked into the back of her jeans. She pointed the lethal weapon at Finley as she moved as far into the corner of the couch as she could, already mapping out the fastest way out of the small cottage as she watched him with barely veiled aggression.
“Whoa, whoa! What the hell?” Finley’s hands were raised in surrender as he stared at Katra in shock, clearly not expecting this reaction from her. He watched her warily, his gaze flicking between her eyes and the firearm held inches from his face.
“How do you know?” Katra’s voice was hard and unforgiving as she glared at the dragon shifter. Was this why he’d talked to her like they were friends? Was he trying to steal her trust so he could easily turn around and betray her?
“At the cabin—when we first found you—Marclan threw a paralyzing spell at you. The guys were two busy focusing on your dad, but…I saw your fire magic. I saw it eat through the spell like it was a snack. It was truly amazing—you’re truly amazing—and I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt you. I said that when I shifted, and it’s true now, as much as it was then. I’m a historian, remember? I know how dangerous your power can be in the wrong hands. I know that a phoenix shifter’s magic can eat through any magic short of divine or demonic magic. There is no way I would let that kind of power fall into the hands of someone like Alekter. And, to be frank, I kinda like you. I’d actually feel pretty bad if something happened to you.” He slowly lowered his hands as he watched Katra’s expression shift slowly from aggression to wary apprehension as she contemplated his words. “I’m not going back on my promise, Katra. I will never, ever cause you harm. If you want, I won’t even tell the guys.”
Slowly, Katra lowered the gun. She continued to stare into Finley’s honest, ocean-deep eyes, and she felt herself unwillingly being pulled into acceptance. There was no telling why, but she truly believed every word this shifter was telling her, even though a lifetime of running and hiding was trying to argue with her. Her heart and soul were saying it was okay. He was okay.
She had to be losing her mind.
“Don’t tell the guys. Not yet. Especially not Kaster.”
Finley chuckled softly. “I get it. I know he seems kind of…rough. He’s not a bad guy, I promise. It’s all a front. An annoying, frustrating front, but a front nonetheless. He’s a good guy who’s trying to help us survive. We don’t…we don’t have anyone other than each other. It’s been that way since we were teenagers. He’s been the one who’s had to take care of us, even at such a young age, and it’s made him feel like he has to be harsh and indifferent, but the truth of the matter is that he’s anything but indifferent. But I won’t tell them. Although I’d like to hope that you will one day.”
It was a stretch to think that she would ever reveal anything so intimate and dangerous as her shifter animal to Kaster, but since she felt a kind of friendship blossoming between herself and Finley, she decided to at least humor him as she nodded.
It wasn’t a promise, per se, but it was as close to one as she was willing to give at the moment.
“I can’t believe you’ve been able to escape detection for this long, though. I mean, I’m sitting right next to you, and I still can’t tell what kind of shifter you are. How is that possible? No, wait, don’t tell me—let me guess. Daromir. He worked some kind of magical bamboozle on you to keep you hidden from the supernatural world, didn’t he? He seems like the kind of guy who can pull that shit off. Sorcerer, right?”
Katra was acutely aware of the runes on her back, almost as if they had come to life as soon as Finley mentioned them, but her primary focus was elsewhere. “I’m sorry, did you just say magical bam—"
“What the hell happened here?” Kaster’s deep voice boomed through the cottage, startling Katra into lifting her gun again, only this time in his direction. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch as his gaze fell on the weapon, and he only lifted an eyebrow in question.
“Apparently, this particular gun was used by William Brechter, the famous vampire hunter from the 1920’s. I still can’t believe it, and I’m really hoping I might be able to convince her to let me buy it. This is a real, ivory-inlaid handle here, man. Can you even imagine how many vampires were taken down by this gun? This is freaking priceless.” Finley’s smooth, cultured voice rolled over the lie like he was talking about the weather—or, in this case, like he was talking about history, with that same excitement and fascination he’d had when she was talking about her father’s love for history. Even though she knew everything he said was a lie, she almost believed it was the truth. He was just that good.
Though it seemed that Kaster was less than convinced. “Huh. What happened to your cup?”
Katra felt a sudden jolt of anxiety rise up as she considered how to answer the completely legitimate question, but Finley was there to help her out in a pinch with a deep chuckle. “Oh, well…seems Miss Supergirl over here has a bad case of butterfingers. I’m never letting you live this one down, by the way. You weren’t even doing anything, you were just sitting there and suddenly—BAM!—your cup just drops. If you weren’t a shifter, I’d say you might have some kind of muscle disorder. But no. It’s just you.” He finished his teasing with another chuckle, shaking his head as if completely befuddled by Katra’s supposed klutziness.
The glare she shot at Finley was not at all faked. She was not a klutz—far from it. Grace should have been her middle name, because she exuded it like a fine perfume.
Even if he was trying to cover for her, how dare he call her klutzy!
“I’m going to end you.” She growled through clenched teeth.
Finley just grinned and patted her head, forcing another irritated growl from Katra.
“Huh.” Kaster repeated, and looking into his eyes she was unable to ascertain whether he believed or disbelieved their excuse. “Anyway, I got a response from one of our connections, Detrick. He says he can meet us at a pub in the village. We should head out. Oh, by the way—there’s a car in the back.”
Katra’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Daromir has a car? He’s got frickin’ teleportation mirrors and crystals out the wazoo. What the hell does he need a car for?”
Finley shrugged as Marclan silently stepped in through the back door, rejoining their little party without so much as a single word. “Pleasure?”
She eyed him doubtfully. “I feel like he’s the type of person who finds…different kinds of pleasure.”
“Well, you can ask him when you see him again, I guess.”
Katra nodded absently. “If I see him again…” She whispered to herself.
Finley was 90% certain he’d never been this intrigued by a girl before. He’d been with a number of women throughout his adult years—though he hadn’t been lying when he’d told Katra that it was the low hundreds—and they had hailed from all locations and all walks of life as his mercenary lifestyle led them to places all across the world. But it was true what Katra had said—if he were to choose, he would gladly take a dusty old tome filled with the legends and lore of past civilizations over a night with a woman, no matter how beautiful she was. The only thing that had kept him from pursuing a life of history and knowledge-seeking were his brothers. They’d been through so much, and Kaster in particular had sacrificed a good portion of his youth protecting and raising both him and Marclan, and now, many years later, he felt it wouldn’t be right to just abandon them for his own quests. He’d never even considered it as a possibility.
Until now.
Talking with Katra had lit a fire in him he’d never even known existed, and he found himself craving the stories that her father had regaled her with, stories of events and times and cultures, of heroes and villains and just everyday people trying to make choices in their lives.
As they drove quietly into the small village, following the directions Detrick had texted to them, Finley found himself staring across the backseat at Katra, as she stared out at the rolling green hills and the distant ocean. Maybe one day they could return to the cabin where all her father’s books were, if they all went together and moved quickly. Hopefully, no one else had gotten there, and everything would be relatively intact. They could gather the books together, come back to the cottage and pour over them like a starving man at a feast. And after they gleaned the knowledge filling the tomes and parchments, they could discuss the fascinating stories that had somehow led up to this very day. She could tease him about how he was missing out on all the beautiful, single women out there by reading with her all day, and he could banter back with how could she possibly know what he was missing out on without actually being out there in the world herself? They could joke about how she doesn’t know anyone and he doesn’t care about knowing anyone because there are far more interesting things there in the cottage with her.
Her. A real, living phoenix shifter.
He briefly wondered just how much her father had discussed with her about phoenix shifters. Did she know that she would live for just about forever? Just like dragons. Most shifters had a lifespan only slightly longer than humans—by about a hundred years, give or take a decade. Rare shifters were another story. While he might look like he was in his early to mid-20’s, he was actually well over 50, and he would continue to look that way for many centuries to come, just like his brothers, and just like Katra. Did her father tell her how breeding amongst phoenix shifters was the same as breeding amongst dragon shifters—that in order for the child to be a dragon, at least one parent had to also be a dragon?
In order for her to exist, her mother would have to have been a phoenix shifter. But she wasn’t. Katra had said that her mother was a lion shifter, and her father was clearly a wolf shifter…so how could Katra even exist?
Unless they had lied to her. That was the only logical answer to this conundrum he found himself in as he gazed over at her profile. If that were the case, he couldn’t begin to imagine the sense of betrayal she would feel if she were to ever find out. And if he were to continue on with her, at some point, he would feel compelled to tell her. He was already feeling a connection to her, a sense of kindred spirits. Perhaps it was because of their similar magic, or perhaps because they both knew the pain that came from losing a beloved parent. Or maybe it was her quiet strength, her muted self-confidence that she neither boasted of nor hid from the world. It could even be her quick wit and seamless sarcasm. He really didn’t know what it was, but it was there, and it was growing.
It was then that the late afternoon clouds outside the traveling car parted, allowing a beam of sunlight to shine into the car. In that small moment in time, her thick mass of hair piled on top of her head lit up like fire, her eyes glowing a bright gold, and she looked for all the world like the mythic animal she would shift into. All that was missing was a pair of fiery wings. Even with all that she had lost—some of it so recent—she still gazed out at the horizon with a strength and determination he had no doubt her mother would be proud of.
Finley was sure he’d never seen a more powerful woman in all his life. And he wondered if he’d ever see another like her again.
The next second, the sunlight was hidden behind the grey clouds again, and he blinked as her amber eyes suddenly turned to him. “What?”
“Do you think maybe one day you’d like to go back to that cabin and get your father’s stuff?”
Finley had just surprised even himself. Certainly, he’d always been the one with the silver tongue, able to weave lies and make up excuses at the drop of a hat, even as a child, but just now, after the whirlwind of emotion that one, single moment had put him through, he felt he deserved a damn Oscar for pulling that shit out of nowhere.
Well, not nowhere. He really did want to go back to the cabin.
With her.
A small smile appeared on her face as she peered over at him, and her eyes began to twinkle like tiny, twin flames. “Yeah. I really would.”
Suddenly, the car jolted to a stop, and Finley’s eyes whipped up to stare into Kaster’s black ones as he sat in the driver’s seat, glaring at him in the rearview mirror. “We’re here.”
There was no doubting the look Kaster had just given him. It was a look that undoubtedly said ‘knock it off’.
Whether Finley would listen or not remained to be seen.