41. Kaycia
Chapter 41
Kaycia
W hen Meg and I return to Red Lark carrying our to-go coffees, I notice two strange men who look far too weathered to be in this part of town hanging out across the street. In my excitement to see her, I didn’t pay attention to whether they had been there earlier, but their leers make me feel uneasy, a twisting sensation taking the place of my happiness.
I casually glance at my phone while Meg asks me about mundane aspects of city life, but still no texts from Shane.
Punching the key code, I let Meg inside the gallery and follow quickly behind, looking over my shoulder to observe the strangers. I lead her through the open space, pointing out my work and some of the other artists featured in nooks off the main floor.
Red Lark is one of the smaller galleries in the art district, but Kelly has built a loyal clientele after years of working in some of the larger galleries. She steps from her office as we near the refreshments, elegantly attired as always, in a navy sheath dress, complete with nude pumps and minimal, but expensive, jewelry. Her gallery is just as sleek as she is, the walls white and exacting, with no scuffs or blemishes to detract from the exhibition.
“Kelly,” I call to her, waving her over. “This is my best friend from home, Meg. Meg, this is Kelly. This is her gallery.”
“Nice to meet you, Meg. Is this your first time in Argent?” Kelly asks with a warm smile.
Meg shakes her hand and nods. “It is! Your gallery is beautiful. I’m so excited to be here.”
The sunset is just barely visible over the buildings outside and the golden hour light filters through the tinted front windows. By the time people begin filing in it will be perfect. Jamila waits to serve drinks at one of the bars with another bartender, and the caterers have set out charcuterie and hors d’oeuvres in preparation for guests.
While we wait, Jamila and Meg make easy small talk, discussing everything from Meg’s flight and kids to Jamila’s favorite restaurants and theater performances. I smile, nodding when expected, but my heart is slowly sinking.
“Did your parents call to wish you luck?” Meg asks. Jamila tries to mask the grimace that takes over her face, focusing on pouring glasses of wine in preparation for the influx of visitors to the bar. She hands me a glass of pinot grigio and Meg takes a flute of champagne.
“No. Did you think they would?” I retort bitterly.
“They’re the worst.” Meg directs her comment to Jamila, but wraps an arm around me. “Well, I’m here and we’re going to celebrate!” She clinks her glass against mine, but the smile I offer is forced.
“You’re definitely more fun.”
“You’ll have to introduce me to this new man of yours, too. He’ll be here, right?” she asks with an eyebrow waggle.
I swallow and nod. Meg may think my somber mood is due to my parents, but Jamila gives me a searching look before I turn my attention back to the door hoping for Shane’s arrival.
* * *
I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. I hide my worries behind a glass of wine and blame it on the normal nervousness that comes with an exhibition, chatting with patrons and introducing Meg to people I’ve become acquainted with in the gallery scene.
Fifteen minutes after the official start of the exhibition, Raquel strides through the doorway. She’s a striking figure in the bright white of the gallery, tucking her helmet under her arm and making a beeline to join us. She’s friendly to Meg, but something about the wariness in her eyes when she repeatedly scans the crowd puts me ill at ease. Neither of us mentions Shane and the omission makes my stomach twist with nervousness.
The gallery steadily fills with patrons and curious pedestrians who saw the sign and open door—free drinks and appetizers will lure humans no matter what. The milling bodies negate my worries that no one would come. I shake hands with patrons and make small talk, accepting their praise with as much grace as I can, even if my eyes constantly drift to the open door and darkening sky beyond. As I’m chatting with someone about the inspiration for one of the paintings my heart drops.
Max strolls through the front door.
Alone.
“Excuse me for just a moment, please?” I ask the kind older man and his partner. They wave me away with a smile and continue browsing while I walk briskly to kiss Max on the cheek, pretending nothing is amiss. Kelly steps in to pick up the conversation, glancing at me with a little furrow pinching her brow.
“Hey, darlin’. You look great!” Max smiles, the consummate flirt.
“Where is he?” I ask, foregoing pleasantries.
“Who? Shane?” Max replies, looking around confused. The easy smile vanishes when he doesn’t see his friend. “He’s not here?”
“No. He said he was coming to town early to hang out with you and then come to the exhibit. I haven’t heard from him in hours.”
“He never came over,” Max answers. “I figured he was just coming straight here and was already on the road once I realized the time. I waited as long as I could, but I didn’t want to be too late.” Raquel makes her way through the people as Max pulls his phone out. He dials Shane’s number, but I can hear it ringing and then going to voicemail.
“This isn’t right.” I’m beginning to panic. My hands are sweaty and shaking as I look around to make sure no one notices my impending meltdown. Chest tightening, I set my wine on a nearby counter. “He wouldn’t do this to me.”
“No,” Raquel agrees. “He wouldn’t.”
She and Max share a meaningful look.
“What? What are you both thinking?”
Thunder rumbles ominously outside and the twilight sky darkens even more with incoming clouds.
“I think you should focus on your show and let Max and me go check on Shane,” Raquel soothes, but tension coils tight in her shoulders and clenched jaw.
“I’m already on it,” Max replies. “I’ll meet you out there.”
“What are you doing? What’s happening?” I ask Raquel. Max briskly walks back out the front doors. When my eyes meet Meg’s across the room, she gives me a curious look of concern. She takes the fresh glass of champagne she was waiting on and mouths ‘Are you okay?’. I have no idea how I’m supposed to explain any of this to her, but I hold up a finger to indicate I’ll be right over.
“I’m worried the rival pack may have found him. He texted me earlier with a cryptic message about family business, but I didn’t want to worry you. I thought he meant he’d be late. I’m sorry, Kay. Max and I will go check it out. You stay here.”
“Like hell I will.” Anger and fear cancel out clearer thinking, and my years of being cautious go by the wayside. “I’m coming with you.”
“Kaycia, you aren’t a shifter. You don’t heal like we do. If this gets ugly you could get hurt. Badly,” she says, her voice low and pleading.
“That’s why I had you teach me.”
“It’s one thing to practice in case some creep grabs you in a parking garage, it’s another if it’s a pack of wolves out for blood.”
She’s right. Of course, she is. But my resolve is set.
“I don’t care.”
Sighing deeply, Raquel doesn’t fight me. “Fine. Let me get your bag.”
Within a few minutes, she’s back with my backpack from Jamila’s car. I snag it from her as I hurry to Meg’s side.
“This is so fun, Kaycia! People seem really excited about your work,” Meg gushes, gesturing around with her glass. Her smile fades again when she sees my face up close and looks between it and the backpack. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry, but something has come up. There’s been an emergency with my boyfriend. I have to go.”
“Oh no! What happened?” Meg looks alarmed and glances around for somewhere to set her glass. “Do you need me to come with you?”
She has no reason to doubt my excuse. The Kaycia she knows is the epitome of responsibility. That Kaycia would never run out of an important event because of a guy, let alone get wrapped up in the mess I’ve found myself in. But I can’t dwell on that now. I have to make sure Shane is okay.
“No. Raquel can take me. I’m not sure what’s happened. I’m so sorry. I’ll text you later. We can do brunch tomorrow. Let me know where you’re staying.” I rattle off the platitudes without giving her time to respond with a strained smile. “Thank you so much for coming.”
I hope I’m not lying. I hope I get to see her tomorrow. I can’t dwell on the risk I’m potentially facing; I have to hug my best friend goodbye and get changed.
“Come with me, I’ll tell Jamila and she can help get you back to the hotel, okay?”
Meg lets me drag her back to the bar where I leave her, pulling Jamila aside to whisper, “Please help her get back to her hotel. I feel terrible leaving her, but I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“I’ll take her myself. Be careful.” She looks between me and Meg, then catches Raquel’s eye walking back through the gallery with a spare helmet, worry clouding her face.
I leave Jamila with Meg and Raquel, then rush to Kelly’s office to pull on my jeans and sneakers, shoving my backpack under Kelly’s desk. On the way out, I snag Kelly’s arm.
“Kaycia? What’s wrong?” she asks, looking over my hasty wardrobe change and the jacket in my hand.
“I’m so sorry, there’s been an emergency. I have to leave.”
“Okay, don’t worry!” she says in the calm, efficient tone I adore her for. “I hope everything’s okay. I’ll handle everyone and keep you updated. Just let me know if you need anything.” She pats my shoulder in farewell and I rush to meet Raquel. She hands me the extra helmet and leads me to her bike out back.
“Oh, crap. Okay,” I whisper to myself and shake out my hands, trying to clear my nerves when I spy the shiny sport bike. It’s much faster and very different than Shane’s. My adrenaline spikes and I tremble knowing how fast she rides on a normal day. I can’t imagine what this is going to be like.
“Don’t freak out, hang on to my waist or hips, and lean with me. I’ll keep you safe, but we have to fly, yeah?” Raquel reassures me with a tight smile, then mounts her bike. I hop on behind her and wrap my arms around her waist with my eyes squeezed shut. I can barely hear the thunder as she revs her engine and pulls out onto the street.