Chapter 8
T ara's gorgeous hazel eyes went absolutely dark with heat, and for a heartbeat Declan thought he was about to have a truly wonderful day.
And then Colgate Snobface, or whatever her name was, ruined it. Even if the woman hadn't been stealing peacock feathers, he would have developed a life-long dislike for her just for that. As it was, he suddenly had the intense urge to make her day as unpleasant as possible. Not just in a 'convince her to stop stealing feathers' way, but in a 'dump her in the lily pad pond' kind of way. A 'let the swans scare her' way. A 'have all the bees swarm her' way, even though it was the third of March and the bees were still asleep for the season. That wasn't the point. Neither was the minor, if irritating, detail that he didn't know how to get bees to swarm her anyway.
He was briefly distracted by wondering if there were any bee shifters who could lead a swarm. Not to the best of his knowledge, at least. There weren't any insect shifters at all, as far as Declan knew.
They'd get eaten, his peacock said, for once without a single note of histrionics. Insects are too small. Birds and rabbits are as small as shifters get.
Declan, in the midst of paying for Tara's ticket by then, blinked with interest. How do you know that and I don't?
Animals know things people don't.
That was an incredibly unsatisfactory answer, and yet also had a kind of annoying truth to it. His peacock did know things he didn't. It was much better at bedding down for the night outside than Declan was, for example. It simply instinctively knew how to get comfortable and stay as warm as possible. Declan supposed it wasn't that much of a stretch for it to know things that Declan didn't about shifters, or shifting, in general. It wasn't as if he'd ever thought about insect shifters before.
"I didn't know you would have company," Colette Saunier was saying to Tara in a tone that suggested she would have preferred to eat insects, herself, rather than encounter one Declan Brendan McCarthy at Tara's side on this fine, not-so-misty Irish morning.
"Declan's my native Irish guide," Tara said pleasantly. "I would've gotten lost trying to find Blarney, otherwise. But here I am, on time to be your peacock whisperer!"
She cast Declan a glance that somehow took his mind straight to her early comments about his cock needing lip service, and all of a sudden he wasn't certain he could walk into the castle grounds without embarrassing himself. He needed a coat or a bag or something, anything , to hold over his crotch for a few minutes.
What's wrong? his peacock asked. I like to be talked about! Isn't that what lip service means?
Yes, Declan agreed, as calmly as he could. Yes, that's…that's what it means.
Good. His peacock sniffed, eyeing Saunier. Let's go pull her tail feathers.
Now that was a proposal Declan could get behind. He gestured for the women to walk in front of him, and fell into step as their escort, letting his peacock imagine pecking at Saunier's outrageously fancy hat. It had enormous black ostrich feathers that flowed down toward her spine. That spine was stiff, like her sharp-shouldered black coat wouldn't sit correctly if she moved normally. Declan wondered if there was anything about her life that was ethical or comfortable. It certainly didn't look like it from the outside.
Colette stopped a security guard just inside the castle grounds, her gaze sweeping him up and down dismissively. "Where are the peacocks?"
The guard, who was about nineteen and looked like he'd had a hard night out the evening before, blinked at her slowly. "Ma'am?"
"The peacocks," Colette repeated haughtily. Tara cast a brief glance back at Declan, her mouth pursed with disapproval. He made a face of agreement back at her while the poor lad tried to work his way up to an answer. Declan suspected he didn't get asked about peacocks very often.
Eventually he said, "I'd reckon they're still in their enclosure, ma'am. It's only just gone nine. Half the staff will still be making their way to their stations."
"Excellent. Where's their enclosure?"
The young guard's expression turned pained. "Ma'am, it's on private property within the grounds. You can't go there. The birds will be out eventually."
"But I want them now!"
Tara shot Declan another look, and although she didn't say a word, he understood exactly what she was thinking. He nodded, and, while Colette was arguing with the security guard like she was a toddler and he was a parent who could be made to understand if she just yelled louder, Declan slipped away. Even with the winter-leafless trees, it wasn't all that hard to find a relatively secluded bush to hide in and shift, so Colette hadn't yet yelled her way into success when he wandered out, shaking his tail feathers but not , he told his peacock firmly, getting it up.
"There!" Colette yowled. "See, they're out! Come on," she said to Tara, who made another face, this time at the guard. Declan saw her mouth an 'I'm so sorry,' at the lad. The kid twisted his own mouth in a rueful response, shrugging, and Declan thought the apology had gone a long way toward restoring the young man's good humor for the day. Then Tara chased after Colette, who had nearly caught up with Declan and clearly had every intention of grabbing feathers out of his tail.
In fact, she was reaching for it as Declan realized that. He started to hop out of the way, swishing his tail aside, but to his surprise, Tara grabbed Colette's wrist and spoke in a cold, deadly voice. " No. "
The designer was surprised enough to freeze in place, gaping at Tara. Declan was a bit slack-jawed himself: the woman he'd known for two days was a sweet, shy, gentle person who didn't seem to have a threatening bone in her body. But he was eight inches taller than Tara, and he wouldn't have wanted to mess with that tone.
Our mate is a fierce protector, his peacock said smugly, then shook its tail in a flurry of rattling sound and color. Not that we need protecting, of course. We will protect her . But it's still nice. And will be good for the chicks.
Declan, who didn't usually think of women as 'chicks,' had an honest-to-God moment of confusion where he did wonder why it would be good for Tara to protect other women. Then he realized the bird meant babies, and a shiver of anticipation ran through him. He managed to say, We're a long way from discussing chicks, to the peacock, but the idea thrilled him. And he'd never really thought of himself as a family man before, so it surprised him just as much.
You never had a fated mate before, his peacock said reasonably.
By then Tara had…encouraged…Colette to stand up straight, well and safely away from Declan's tail feathers. The designer still looked like she'd been hit by a lorry. "You're supposed to be helping me get feathers!"
"And if we can convince some peacocks to drop them, I will," Tara said icily. "But you will not abuse these animals by pulling their feathers out. That's horrible."
"They're just birds!"
"How big is the shaft of a peacock's feather?" Tara demanded.
"I—half a centimeter?" Colette's outrage was now mixed fully with bewilderment, though the anger flashed through again as Tara snapped a hand forward and caught a small section of the designer's hair, wrapping it around her fingers.
"There, I'd say I've got about half a centimeter's worth of hair roots now. Want me to rip that out?"
" What ? Are you feckin' mental ? Get your—stop that—you—!" Colette flailed and smacked at Tara's hand, although Declan couldn't help noticing she was very careful not to pull too far away.
"Oh, so you don't want me to pull your hair out? Why is that? Do you think it would hurt? Gosh ," Tara growled, "imagine how the peacocks feel."
" They're just birds !" Colette shouted again.
Tara released her hair. "They're living creatures and you'll treat them with respect or I'll call the guards on you for illegal animal trafficking."
The designer's jaw fell open again. Declan's just about did, too. He hadn't really considered going straight to direct threats. His peacock did a smug little dance in their minds, and it was all Declan could do to keep it from doing a physical one, too. He didn't want to distract Colette from Tara just then, especially as the designer's eyes narrowed. "I thought you were on my side."
"That honestly remains to be seen."
Colette stared at Tara a long few seconds, then, clearly trying to reset the whole relationship, said, "I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I do know, of course, that I'm not supposed to be collecting peacock feathers. It's just that the real thing is so much better than the manufactured ones, so much more vibrant, so much more exclusive. And you…"
Declan could practically see the woman scraping her memory, trying to recall what Tara had said about herself. After a moment, Colette landed on, "You're a photographer," with a note of triumph for remembering.
She's carrying a camera, his peacock said dryly. Declan snickered, but tried to swallow the sound, and gradually took a few steps away. He didn't want to be any closer to Colette in peacock form than he had to be.
I'll step on her. His peacock sounded serene now, and Declan had to admit, he also enjoyed the idea of shifting into their largest form and, if not stepping on the designer, at least scaring the bejeezus out of her.
"Now, love, you wouldn't be interested in fashion photography, would you? Because I could use someone with a good eye and a talent for bringing out the depth of colors in natural materials, like peacock feathers."
The way Tara's breath caught suggested Colette had actually hit on a secret desire of hers. Declan wasn't worried for even a heartbeat, but Colette pounced, verbally, like a cat with a mouse.
Excuse me! His peacock was actively offended. Like a peacock with a mouse!
Declan, with some actual embarrassment, said, Right, of course. It wasn't like he didn't know peafowl ate mice, although it wasn't a delicacy he had ever tried, and didn't want to.
"It's an interesting offer," Tara was saying, her voice faint. "But I'd only be interested if everything is absolutely ethical and above-board."
Colette put on a brittle smile that made Declan want to peck her. "Then that's what we'll do. Tell you what, why don't we go find some more peacocks and…you can take pictures while I try to collect feathers."
Tara said, "Mmm," neutrally, but gestured for Colette to lead the way. Once the designer was ahead of her, Tara caught Declan's eye and made an I'm going to be sick face that had him chortling to himself as they went to find the peacocks.