Chapter Two #2
She rubbed her tired, gritty eyes. “That was one weird raccoon.” Maybe it had been walking on its hind legs or something.
Or maybe it was a little bear. Tennessee’s black bear population was growing, and the animals had been seen in the suburbs.
Maybe they’d gotten braver and forged even deeper into town.
Whatever it was, it wouldn’t eat well tonight.
The dumpsters had been emptied that day.
But then it stepped into the strip of light shining into the alley in front of the garbage bins.
She almost choked on the swallow of coffee she’d just sipped.
The thing looked like a freaking garden gnome.
Long, light-colored beard—either gray or a dingy white.
Pointed hat. Paunchy in the middle and stubby arms and legs. Seriously?
“I have lost my ever-loving mind,” she said under her breath. She lowered her cup to the counter and stretched closer to the window, blinking hard to make sure she was really seeing this. She’d not had any alcohol at the party. In fact, she never drank anything stronger than a wine spritzer.
Without taking her eyes off the unbelievable little man, she fumbled her phone out of her back pocket, focused it on the visitor, and took a picture. Then she zoomed in and took two more just to make sure she hadn’t messed up the first ones. But then he looked up and locked eyes with her.
A knock on her apartment door jarred her, making her squeak like a cornered mouse.
She stared down at her phone. Her doorbell camera hadn’t alerted her, and according to everything she could see within range of the lens, no one was there.
Some jerk must have run by her door and knocked just to startle her.
She rewound the footage by several minutes, but all it showed was the empty, dimly lit hallway.
Just to be on the safe side, she went to the door and checked all the deadbolts.
Everything was as secure as it could be.
Crossing back to the kitchen window, she searched the alley below.
Empty. Or maybe Mr. Gnome now hid in the darkest shadows.
She debated dialing 911, but didn’t. What was she going to tell them?
That she’d seen a garden gnome getting ready to do some dumpster diving?
At least she had the pictures as proof she hadn’t lost her mind.
She tapped on her phone screen, opened her photo library, then clenched her teeth so tightly her jaws ached.
Gone. None of the three pictures of the nocturnal enigma existed.
The last photo taken was from earlier in the night with her drivers.
She tossed her phone onto the counter and bowed her head.
What. The. Hell. She pulled in a deep breath through her nose, blew it out her mouth, then repeated the action twice more.
It had to be the stress, the late hour, and exhaustion playing tricks on her.
There was no other explanation. “I’m going to go to bed and pretend this never happened. ”
Tomorrow would be a better day. It had to be, because today had totally bottomed out.
*
“Damned if she didn’t see me. I’m that sorry, Callum.
” Farbis Langisbeard sadly shook his head.
By day, the gnome was the proprietor of Craig Durness’s Wee Sundries and Such, and when necessary, he spied on potential fated mates waiting to be matched.
Information was a precious thing when it came to bringing souls together across the centuries.
Stealthy as a cat, the mystical being usually blended in with the scenery with no trouble at all.
“Looked me right in the eyes, she did. Took pictures, even. By Merlin’s beard, what the devil was she doing at her window when she’s flying out with Morganna in mere hours? ”
Unable to sleep without his dear Morganna by his side, Callum waved the man in. The doorstep was no place for this conversation. “Best come in for a drink. Ye know Morganna will have yer arse if Ms. Waterton backs out of the trip because of seeing ye.”
Farbis threw up his hands as he ambled into the cottage, doddering from side to side with his short gait as he followed Callum into the kitchen.
“I distracted her with a knock on her door, I did, and deleted them pictures. She’s got no proof of seeing me.
” He tapped his temple and winked. “All she’s got is her mind. ”
Callum poured them both a generous whisky, took a seat at the table, and magically adjusted the height of the other chair to better suit Farbis’s short stature.
“Morganna likes this lass but says the woman still doesn’t fully trust us.
When she arrives, we must handle her with greater care than we did the others.
I dinna wish to have to erase her memories first thing, ye ken? ”
Farbis smacked his lips and thumped his empty glass back onto the table.
“I ken, and I be doing my part. I sent a vision of her to the Earl of Blackmorrow through mine and my precious Dierdre’s hill.
” He nodded and tapped his glass on the table for a refill.
“I believe he took a liking to her.” He smiled proudly even though his eyes glistened with the threat of tears.
Not entirely agreeing with Farbis’s tactics, but loath to scold him, Callum rose to fetch the bottle.
Farbis’s beloved Dierdre, a Fae maiden of the Unseelie, had been slain by her kind because she had chosen to love a gnome.
Farbis had sworn to mourn his lady love throughout the rest of eternity.
Callum filled both their glasses again, then set the bottle on the table.
The night called for more than a dram or two.
“How do ye know he took a liking to her?” he asked. A gnome couldn’t as easily blend into the fourteenth century as he could the twenty-first.
After another deep swig of the golden uisge beatha, Fargis tapped on the table again. “I hid behind a cluster of oak saplings and watched. The man’s face fairly glowed, it did. Soon as he saw her. His soul recognized hers. I swear it.”
“I hope ye’re right. Ye know we lost three from our count.”
The gnome shook his head, setting his long gray beard to swinging.
“The damned gods and goddesses ripped their souls asunder once more. ’Twas not our fault.
Those three were fated mates. I swear it.
” He shook a stubby finger. “They’ll find each other in the next life and choose each other all over again.
Mark my words. I know they will. Ye just mark my words.
” He thumped his chest. “Old Farbis knows.”
“Old Farbis also needs to take care and not look Ms. Waterton in the eyes when she arrives. Ye know if ye do, she’ll see through yer glamour, since she saw ye in yer true form.”
“I know it.” Farbis bowed his head. “Eyes always tell the truth of the tale. No matter the form.” He tapped a finger on his empty glass, then waved Callum in for another refill.
“She’s a bonnie wee thing. Full of life.
Big spirit, she has. Her soul shines brighter than bright.
She’ll survive the fourteenth century well. ”
“Aye, well. We just have to get her there, ye ken?” Usually, once fated mates met each other, the bonding took care of itself.
A soul’s yearning to reunite with its other half was a powerful force that few could ignore.
“And we must better prepare her and MacMuirrow for anything the gods and goddesses might try. I fear we must start warning our matches to keep them safe. It seems we’re no longer the only ones in danger. ”
Farbis slowly shook his head. “I know hatred and the humiliation of being proved wrong spurs the Fae to best us in this battle, but the gods and goddesses seem to fear the love of reunited souls more than they fear anything else. Why do ye reckon that is so?”
“Because love is the strongest force in all creation, and they appear incapable of embracing it or understanding it.”
Farbis chuckled, then drained his glass again. “I dinna think anyone understands love. It’s not meant to be understood.” He thumped his chest. “’Tis only meant to be felt.”
Callum filled their glasses again, then lifted his in a toast. “To heartfelt love, old friend.”
Farbis nodded and touched his glass to Callum’s with a solid clink. “To heartfelt love. May it always conquer all.”
*
“You all right?” Evie fanned Morganna, then offered her a tissue, a small glass of ginger ale, and the airline’s paper barf bag—her second one of the trip.
“I’ve got some more motion-sickness pills in my purse.
These melt under your tongue. I’m not sure they’ll work this late in the game, but do you want to try one of those since the others didn’t work?
” Since those were prescription medications, she’d not offered them before, but Morganna looked even more miserable by the minute.
Offering a non-narcotic prescription anti-puke pill was the least Evie could do.
Hunched over in her seat, Morganna covered her eyes and groaned. “Kill me. I’ll never make it back to my beloved Scotland, and a quick death would be better than this torture. Callum knows to spread my ashes on our sidhe hill.”
Evie had no idea what a shee hill was. She didn’t even know how to spell it.
It had to be a Scottish word for a family cemetery or something.
“I know you feel like you’re going to die, but it’ll be better once the turbulence settles down.
Why don’t we make your seat back into a bed again so you can lie back down? ”
They were almost to Scotland, but still far enough out to torture poor Morganna for another hour or so.
Their posh seats in business class had made the flight a dream.
At least, it had been for Evie. For Morganna?
It had been a nightmare. The poor thing had been as green as a gourd as soon as the engines powered up.