Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CLEM.
Otis leaves for work early the next morning, but not before bringing me a cup of tea and a cookie and placing them on the bedside table.
I stare sleepily up at him, smiling. His beautiful green face is soft and gentle, so unlike the fierce frowny guy I first met.
He sits down next to me. “When I get back at lunchtime, we’ll ice the cake and then visit Mom this afternoon. If you’re still up for that.” He eyes me with just the tiniest hint of doubt in his red eyes.
Wide awake now, I sit up and wind my arms around his neck, pulling him close.
I stare into his deep red eyes. “Of course I’m up for it.”
He beams, his tusks arcing up in the way I love.
“What will you do while I’m gone? You’ve organized everything I can think to give you.”
“I thought I’d go to the markets and buy berries to decorate the cake.”
“On your own?”
“Yeah, why not? It’s barely any distance.”
“Okay. But don’t go anywhere else for now. I don’t want you getting another bout of Labyrinth overwhelm.”
“Oh, I don’t know—you looked after me pretty well the first time,” I tease.
Half an hour later, fortified with breakfast, I leave the house and wander along the alleyway, walking as if I just got off a horse.
I won’t deny I’m a tad sore in that department, but… knotting with Otis was worth every bit of it.
I realize I’ve got a dumbass smile on my face as I walk past the house where Celia lives.
She’s sitting outside her front door, knitting close to her lumen lamp and she looks up as I pass.
“Hello, dear,” she says with a smile. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m very well thank you, Celia.”
“I heard you’re helping our dear sheriff,” she remarks, with a sparkle in her eyes. “Are you off to the markets by chance?”
“Yes, to buy berries for a cake Otis is baking.”
Celia nods. “To take to his mom. He’s a good lad.”
Lad. That makes my lips twitch. “Did you know him when he was a boy, Celia?”
“Sure did, since he was a wee orcling. Always polite, always kind. Quiet and studious. We hoped after his father died, he’d find a good mate to share that big house with, but that damn sprite took advantage of him, used him up, then cast him aside.
I guess he swore off women after that.” She casts me a sly glance. “But maybe you can change his mind.”
“Oh, no.” A giggle escapes me. “I’m just, you know, helping him get organized.”
“And I wasn’t born yesterday, honey.” Celia winks at me, and her whiskers twitch comically. She gets up and picks me a flower from an array in a large pot, places it behind my ear. “There. Pretty as a picture. It’s lovely to have a human living down here of their own free will.” She smiles.
“How do you mean?”
“I can tell by looking at your neck.” She moves closer and adds, “And that gives us all hope.”
I am about to ask her to elaborate when she gives my arm a pat. “Off you go and buy those berries. Best stall is Betty’s, she’s a brownie. Can’t miss her, she always wears a bright red beret. She gets the pick of the crop from our orchards.”
“Thank you, Celia,” I say, deciding now is not the time to start quizzing the neighbors. “And for the flower, too.” I touch my ear, beam at her, and hurry off down the street swinging my basket.
I spend a happy hour wandering through the stalls brimming with products.
These monsters are amazing creators, something we humans have all but forgotten how to be.
There are homemade pots in bright colors, and tapestries the likes of which I’ve never seen, so detailed and intricate are the designs.
There are knitted beanies with holes for ears, which are just adorable, and clothing to fit all different shaped species, with various gaps for wings and legs and tails.
Patchwork quilts are hung up on show, and jewelry and beads are being picked over by small dragons searching for the brightest, most sparkly find.
I get to the fruit and vegetable stalls and marvel at their size and color. It’s so hard to imagine they can grow just under lumen lights.
I buy punnets of blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries from Betty. It’s tempting to pop some in my mouth, but I know if I start, I’ll never stop.
Luckily, Betty hands me a small punnet and waves away my coins. “For free, to eat now.” She smiles.
I’m meandering around, popping berries in my mouth, when I see a figure in jeans and a leather jacket, sitting on a black motorbike at the edge of the brightly lit stalls. His visor is over his face, but I know who it is.
“Jax,” I call out.
His head tilts, and even though I can’t see his face behind the visor, I sense he is looking straight at me. I wave and advance toward him, but suddenly he revs his bike, spins the wheels and hightails off in the other direction.
That’s weird.
I stand perplexed, staring after the plume of exhaust disappearing down a side tunnel.
I’m certain Jax saw me—so why didn’t he come over and greet me?
Why would he take off in the other direction?
I thin my lips, resisting the urge to follow him. Otis said not to go anywhere else.
Bloody Jax. But then it occurs to me that maybe he’d been visiting Tippy and didn’t want me to catch him.
That would be so like Jax, dark horse that he is.
There’s one person who could confirm that for me. Tippy.
I pop the last of my berries in my mouth and head over to Digger’s Diner. Inside, it’s buzzing with folks eating, drinking, and chatting.
Tippy is at the counter, whizzing up smoothies in a vitamizer. She looks up and beams at me.
I locate a stool that’s about right for my height at the counter. A small golden furred creature with a long tail like a squirrel is sitting on a high stool, next to a monster with green scales and veined wings furled at its sides. The green smoothie in its claws is the same color as its scales.
Tippy grins at me. “Want one?” she asks, pointing to the mix in her blender.
“Sure, I won’t let Jax put me off.” I grin.
Tippy rolls her eyes. “Jax says it’s rabbit food. That’s offensive to rabbit shifters.”
“You have rabbit shifters here?”
“We have every species you can imagine in the Labyrinth.” Tippy laughs.
“Talking of Jax, was he in here just now?”
Tippy shakes her head.
I frown. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely, I’m sure. Why d’you ask?”
“I just saw him ride off down an alleyway on his motorbike. I waved at him, but he ignored me.”
“Are you certain it was Jax?”
“He looked human. I couldn’t see his face because of the bike helmet, but it looked identical to the bike he was on yesterday. Black and shiny.”
“It could have been a fae, their build is very similar to humans. Their features are different—sharper, more pointy, but you wouldn’t be able to tell if they had a bike helmet on. A lot of fae ride motorbikes.”
“Maybe it was a fae,” I agree, but I still feel ruffled for some reason. I was so sure it was Jax.
Tippy whizzes up another smoothie and passes it over to me.
I sip it, gingerly at first. A zing of flavors hits my tongue, kind of like apple and ginger, with the tartness of lemon, and the sweetness of honey perfectly harmonizing and a herb that’s reminiscent of mint, but not quite. “Oh, I like it,” I say, licking my lips.
“Thought you might need a pick me up.” She winks at me. “Otis been keeping you busy?”
“Erm, yeah, I guess.” I feel my face flush.
She pops innocent amber eyes at me, then leans in and murmurs, “Looks like you might not have had enough sleep last night.”
I bite my lip and hide behind the smoothie.
A big figure looms next to me at the counter.
I look up to see Brody grinning down at me, in his human form, except for those brown ears twitching. With him is a handsome guy with shaggy golden hair. When Brody introduces him to me as Kazmo, the guy’s face morphs for a second into a lion, replete with a huge mane.
“Oh, you’re a lion shifter,” I say, stating the obvious, super-pleased that I didn’t flinch this time.
“We shifters tend to show our species briefly when introduced,” Kazmo explains. “It’s like giving someone a business card. Monsters are used to it, but it must be a bit disconcerting for a human.”
“I’m getting used to it.” I grin. “Does it frighten the peripherals?”
Kazmo shakes his head. “We don’t communicate with peripherals.”
Brody adds, “They’re programmed to keep their distance from us.”
“Programmed?” I frown.
“Yeah,” Brody says. “By the human authorities. It keeps them in line.”
“How do they program them?”
“They put a device under their skin, here.” He waves at his neck, just above the collarbone.
And suddenly it dawns on me why Celia mentioned my neck. I’m not programmed, like most of the other humans here. My eyes widen. “Does that mean Jax has a device fitted?”
“Erm… not anymore.” Brody seems to be hedging.
I raise my brows, looking from one to the other. “But he did have once?” I press.
I think of the two scars on Jax’s neck. “Jax’s got removed, right?”
“Yeah,” Brody mumbles.
“When?”
“A few years back.”
“How?” I persist.
I see Kazmo elbow Brody in the ribs. “Maybe take that up with Jax, better he explains it to you than us,” he says, and leans over the bar. “Two take-out cappuccinos, three sugars for Brody, please, none for me Tip.”
I curl my lips. “Right, sure. If I can catch him,” I huff, then add, “You didn’t happen to see him on his motorbike just now?”
“Nope.” They shake their heads.
I sigh, rub my forehead. Everyone is being evasive about Jax.
And Jax is being the most evasive of all.
Now I’m even more curious about what the fuck has been going on in the three years since Jax got mauled.
I feel lightheaded suddenly, a mini version of how I felt yesterday before I got Labyrinth overwhelm. I don’t need another attack of that right now, without Otis to calm me down. I down the rest of my smoothie and grab my bag. “I should go home,” I say.
Maybe I’ve gone pale, because Kazmo’s golden eyes narrow slightly as he looks at me.
“Want a lift? We’ve got a jeep parked outside.”
I glance up at the clock on the wall. It’s 11 am. Otis will be home soon to ice the cake for his mom.
I slide off the stool. “A lift would be great, thanks.”