Chapter 18 #2
Nadine laughs gently, her eyes concerned. “Go home, take a nice, hot shower, and then come back.”
“The morning rush is a lot for one person to handle,” I say reluctantly.
“I’ve got this,” she assures me. “Go.”
I’m already edging toward the door. “You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
Relieved, I nod. “I won’t be long, okay?”
“No hurry.”
Before I leave, I realize I should tell Rowan that I’m headed home.
I call his name when I step into the apartment…but I’m greeted with silence.
He’s gone.
I sigh, realizing he must have flown out the owl door—not that I blame him. There’s not much for him to do up here.
I glance outside. The rain is coming down in a steady drizzle, and I can’t seem to rein it in. I hope he’ll be okay out there.
“Worrying won’t help,” I tell myself, and then I go downstairs.
“I’ll walk with you to the livery stable,” Ryder says, holding the umbrella over us as we leave the cover of the teashop’s protective entry awning.
“I left my bike in the rack outside the rock shop,” I tell him.
“I can hurry home and get my cart so you don’t have to ride in the rain.”
“No, that’s okay.” Shielding my eyes from the persistent drizzle, I peer into the nearby trees, looking for Rowan. “It won’t be the first time.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the rain on the cobblestone streets. There are a few tourists out and about, but most everyone has found shelter in one of the shops.
“I can’t believe Rowan’s a shifter,” Ryder says when we’re almost to the rock shop. “All that time, we had no idea.”
“Do you think that’s why he was so determined to harness metamorphosis magic?” I ask. “Because some part of him craved the change?”
“Maybe.” Ryder shrugs. “We’ll probably never know.”
Ryder is just reaching for the rock shop door when Hazel appears through the glass on the other side. He quickly opens it for her. “Morning, Hazel.”
She stands under the entry awning, fighting with her umbrella. “Is it still morning?”
Ryder hands me our umbrella and then extends his hand to Hazel, offering to help. “It’s been a long one, hasn’t it?”
She gratefully transfers the umbrella to him. “Has it ever. The rain is making the kids stir-crazy, and they’re driving me mad. Speaking of my children.” She turns back inside. “Sable, I told you not to touch that. Come on, you two. Hurry up.”
Ryder wins the umbrella battle and returns it to her.
The fox shifter gives him a thankful smile and calls to Rosalie, “See you later, Rose.”
She then herds her children onto the walkway, doing her best to keep them under the umbrella.
“When you get a chance, do you think I could talk to you?” I ask her.
“Of course—Sable, don’t jump in that puddle.”
“Jeffrey just did,” the small girl whines, looking adorable running through the rain.
“You wanted to wear that dress today. I told you to wear pants. We don’t jump in puddles while wearing dresses.”
Sulking, Sable returns to her mother and takes her hand.
Hazel looks back at me. “Sorry. What did you want to talk about?”
“We can talk later. You have your hands full.”
She laughs. “I always have my hands full. It’s not a problem.”
“Oh, it’s not—” I almost say it’s not a big deal, but I catch myself. Rowan being stuck as an owl is a big deal. “Rowan accidentally shifted into an owl again, and he’s not sure how to shift back.”
Her face softens with sympathy. “I’m afraid I know nothing about mage magic. My uncle married a mage, but they live in North Carolina, and I don’t know her well.”
“We found out Rowan’s a shifter. He just didn’t realize it.”
She looks stunned. “He didn’t realize it?”
I nod, knowing it’s not my place to share our suspicions about his aunt and uncle tampering with his magic. “How do children learn to change?”
“Oh, well.” She shakes her head, looking flummoxed.
“You have to want it—really want it. It happens naturally those first dozen times. We used the old shifter trick of encouraging them to run with us, and both our children shifted for the first time while we were playing in the backyard. On their wobbly toddler legs, they were frustrated that they couldn’t catch us, and then the magic took over. It’s instinct, really.”
“How did they change back?”
“For Jeffrey, we brought out a new firetruck we’d been saving for him. He wanted to play with it badly enough that his magic responded. For Sable, all it took was ice cream.”
“So, it just happened? Because they wanted it to happen?”
“That’s right. As you get older, you learn how to control it. Adult shifters aren’t subject to the whims of our desires. We change at will.”
“Rowan seems so upset right now. I can’t imagine he doesn’t want to change back.”
“He’ll need a sudden boost of emotion, something that will push his magic to take over.”
Just like it did when he thought he was going to get caught in my bed.
“We can work with that,” Ryder says. “Thank you for your help, Hazel.”
“Anytime—Jeffrey, don’t climb on that.” She sighs. “I should get them back to the shop. If you want to talk more, feel free to stop by later.”
As soon as she goes, I turn to Ryder. “Now what?”
“I have an idea,” he says with grim determination. “First, we need Rowan.”
“He’s not at the tea shop anymore,” I admit. “He probably wanted to stretch his wings.”
“Where do you think he went?”
Would he go to the cottage with my parents there? Could he even fly there in the rain?
“I’m not sure.” A gust of wind blows rain sideways, rendering the umbrella temporarily useless.
I shiver as the cold droplets pelt me, glancing down at my T-shirt.
I really need to go home and change. “I should go. Do you want to meet at the tea shop after the bakery closes? Hopefully, Rowan will be back by then.”
“You’re sure you don’t want a ride home?”
Though it’s tempting, I’m sure Arista needs him, and I don’t want him to get in trouble for ditching work. “No, I’ll be all right. A bike ride might help me clear my head.”
“Call if you need me, okay?” He looks up at the umbrella, unsure what to do with it.
“I can’t carry it while I’m on the bike,” I remind him. “I’m fine. You go.”
He grimaces, shaking his head. “That won’t do. If you’re going to brave the weather, I’ll brave it, too.”
And with that, he opens the rock shop door and leans in. Depositing the soggy umbrella in the stand by the entry, he calls, “Thank you for the umbrella, Ansel.”
“It’s still raining,” the sorcerer responds from the counter. “You can keep it for a while longer.”
“Chivalry demands I give it up,” Ryder says gallantly.
“Whatever.” Ansel shakes his head like he thinks Ryder is an idiot. “Close the door—you’re getting water on the floor.”
Chuckling, Ryder releases the door and returns his attention to me. We stand together, huddled under the small awning, probably looking ridiculous.
“We’re going to fix this,” he promises. “Rowan won’t be an owl forever.”
The rain picks up, betraying my fear, but I nod as though I believe him.
And I do. I’m just tired. Why do all the bad things have to hit at once?
The elf walks back to the bakery, and I roll the bike onto the street and head home, hoping Rowan might be there when I arrive.
A half-hour later, I walk through the front door, wet, weary, and splattered with mud.
“Are you guys home?” I call, but I can already feel my parents’ magic, and it’s exactly the balm my heart needs.
“In the kitchen, Kit,” Mom calls.
But then I hear another voice, and it belongs to someone I don’t want to deal with right now.
Warily, I kick off my soggy, muddy flip-flops and walk across the living room, stopping at the kitchen’s entrance and trying not to grimace when I see the visitor.
“Hello, Kit,” Mr. Eastwilden says from my table, casually drinking coffee with my parents like they’re fast friends.