Chapter Two #2
As I get further away from the bar, I drop my illusion, confident no one saw anything.
Every shifter's gifts have a consequence. Keeping my face obscured takes energy, and I can’t do it for more than a few hours without the risk of exhaustion.
The more I do it for consecutive days, the harder it is to bounce back.
Sleep and food will recharge my powers. I love being a shifter, and even though foxes don’t have the best reputation, I’ve never cared what other people think.
Foxes can be a variety of different colors; the most common is red, but I’m proud to be a white fox.
Our abilities can differ, and many factors contribute to that.
Practicing your gifts is key. Mom taught us early and stressed the importance of embracing what we have.
Every day when I was growing up, I experimented with what I could do, and I suppose that’s why my power is advanced.
I slow as I come to the turn, and travel down a dirt road.
A building appears. It’s large and isolated, surrounded by trees.
It looks abandoned, and if I didn’t trust Allie, I would pause in approaching.
A man with white hair and broad shoulders stands by the door, arms crossed.
Most people would be terrified by the scowl on his face, but I smile.
If he is the caliber of vampires in the area, I think I’m going to enjoy my time here.
Putting the car in park, I pocket the keys and ease out.
“Ezra?”
“Yeah, you must be Bash.”
He nods. “Bring the body,” he orders, and I chuckle.
I retrieve Owen and follow him inside. The room is vast, with a large steel sink and a door. I assume it leads to a bathroom, but I focus on the chains hanging from the ceiling. Further into the room, there is a barrel that looks like a trough and several drains.
“Did Allie explain?” I ask, dropping the body.
“Yes.” He tilts his head. “She didn’t tell me you are a fox.”
“Is that a deal breaker?” I ask, lifting my brows.
“No. I just find it interesting. We don’t have many of your species here.” He looks at Owen. “Do you have a method?”
“I do. My supplies are in the vehicle.”
He tips his chin toward the front of the building and I assume he’s telling me to get them.
I jog to the door, retracing my steps. I always work alone.
Most of the men I kill won’t be missed, and in any other place, it wouldn’t matter if I left them where I killed them.
Several of my jobs are in the target's house, surrounded by the evidence of their crimes. Out of respect for the place Allie calls home, I won’t leave any trace.
I grab everything I need and join Bash. He remains in the same position.
“Do you mind if I watch?” he asks, and I slip on my gloves.
“Go for it.” I unzip the bag, and roll him into the tub, avoiding getting blood on my clothes. I begin my process of turning Owen into liquid.
“I have a method,” he says, backing up. “I’ve never met anyone else with similar tastes in disposal.”
“I like the art of it,” I reply, adding the last few ingredients.
I’ve experimented with different chemicals over the years. Mixing them can be tricky if you don’t know what you are doing. Extensive research is necessary. Some materials will do the job, but will leave parts of the body intact. My goal is to liquify every inch.
“Most people wouldn’t think of it that way,” he mutters.
“Does it matter what others think?”
“Not to me,” he says, and I grin. “What did he do?”
“He assaulted a girl,” I say softly. “He was a predator. Owen stalked young girls online, gained their trust, and convinced them to meet in person.”
“Fuck,” he grits out.
“I was thrilled to make him stop.” I suppress my sense of smell as his body starts to bubble. We can smell everything to an extreme degree, but most shifters can control it if they practice. This is the worst part before the remains turn into a substance that can easily slide down the drain.
“I think I’m going to like you,” Bash hums.
“Really? Are we bonding?” I tilt my head.
“Do you have any sense of self-preservation?” He narrows his eyes.
“No,” I chuckle.
“I’ll probably still like you,” he rumbles.
“I can always use another friend,” I say dryly.
“Sometimes, I think I have too many,” he murmurs.
“Can there be too many?” I ask, stepping back, letting the magic work.
“Did Allie tell you about this town?” he asks.
“In what way?” I know she is a recent transplant. She moved when her brothers met their mate. I’ve listened to her stories, and she mentioned several names.
“We have built a community here, a family. It doesn’t matter what kind of creature you are. They accept you, and welcome you into the fold.” He stares at the body.
“What are the qualifications for being in the family?” I find it odd that several different species live together in one place, friendly with one another.
“You have to respect the bond of fated mates,” he says, looking at me.
“I do.” I nod. It’s always been interesting to me that there could be one person in the world meant to be mine. I’ve wondered who the universe would send me that can accept my quirks.
“Everyone in the family is to be protected and respected.”
“I like that,” I say, nodding my head. “I’ve traveled around the world and have come across many shifters and vampires.
It’s hard to trust others. The world is a shit place in the human world.
I don’t have much respect for most humans, but I suppose that's because I see the worst of the worst. Their world is run by greed. The rich make the rules and add to their money without thought to the people working their ass off. Shifters are better, yet there are bad people everywhere. There was a pack of wolves in Colorado. They didn’t associate with anyone who wasn’t a wolf.
You can imagine their disdain for foxes.
” I lean forward slightly. “We didn’t get along well.
” I stand straight. “I understand banding together, but I thought, why not have variety? I believe women are the backbone of the world. They are soft when needed, strong the rest of the time. I marvel at their resilience and their ability to forgive. My mom and sister have had experiences I will never have. I listened and learned from them. I can’t stand men who take advantage of their yearning to be accepted and loved as Owen did. ”
“You aren’t mated,” he states.
“No, but you are,” I say.
“How can you tell?”