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“Uh, so I’ll just…” I let my words fade into the tension as I slip out of my chair and ease toward the door. When no one stops me, I turn and run as fast as a woman wearing a single three-inch heel can run.
As I rush past reception and reach for the front doors, a guttural shout comes from behind me, “VANESSA!”
I don’t look back. I kick off my heel and sprint for the nearest bus stop.
Chapter 3
A Safe Place
VANESSA
“Not that I mind you staying, but tell me again what’s wrong with your place?” Pinky asks as she throws an old quilt across her couch and tosses a pillow on top.
I flop onto the freshly made couch. “Nothing’s wrong with the apartment. It’s the wolf shifter who thinks I’m his mate I’m hiding from.”
Pinky drops next to me. “That sounds intriguing.”
After leaving the police station, I’d gone to the safest place I could think of. My best friend.
I fill her in while she nods sympathetically. It takes a lot to shake Pinky and my story only earns a raised brow. Pinky is as laid back as her lifestyle indicates. She lives on the beach above her surf shack and spends more time in the water than she does selling surfboards and lessons.
“And he knows where you live?” She stands up to open a window and settles on the ledge before lighting a joint.
I think about her question. “I suppose not.”
“You don’t sound confident.”
“I’m not,” I admit. “You know that feeling I get sometimes like someone’s watching me?” I’ve been friends with Pinky for eight years and there’s nothing we don’t share. When she nods, I continue, “Well, it stopped after I met him.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“I don’t know, but I think it stopped because of him. Because he was the one following me all these years. Now that he’s out in the open, the feeling’s gone.” I look at Pinky, half hopeful she’ll tell me I’m being ridiculous.
She takes a puff of her joint, her expression thoughtful as she blows the smoke out. “Could be. Especially if he really is your mate.”
“That’s not possible. I would’ve felt something, right? I would’ve known I had a mate out there somewhere.”
Pinky cracks a smile. “That’s not how it works. Evolution, as well as industrialization and a reliance on technology have dulled human instinct. Your instincts kick in once in a while, like the feeling you were getting when you were being followed, but until the mating bond is completed there’s no clanging alarm bell that goes crazy when your mate is nearby. With shifters, we feel it down to our souls.”
“He said something about that.” I remember how he landed on top of me and looked down at me in shock as I opened my eyes. “He could hear my thoughts. He said it was because we’re bonded.”
“It must’ve happened when he touched you.” Pinky flicks her ash out the window. “Sometimes that’s all it takes. Can you feel him? The bond should go both ways, but it might be fuzzy for you since you’re new to all this.”
I shake my head, then stop. Do I feel him? I cast around inside myself searching for… what? I don’t know. All I feel is sleepy. “I don’t think I can feel him. That’s a good thing, right? If I can’t feel him, then he can’t be my mate.”
She raises an eyebrow in response and I sigh, leaning back and rubbing my temples. I try to recall what I know about shifters, but it’s not much. Humans have been suspicious of shifters since our evolutionary paths diverged and have little to do with them.
Of course, as I grew, I formed my own opinions and while wary of one particular wolf shifter, I don’t dislike shifters in general. It would be rude. Like someone disliking me for having red hair. A person can’t help their birth circumstances.
“So… you think I really might be his mate?”
She studies me, then shrugs. “Probably. I’ve never known a shifter to be wrong about mating.” She tilts her head. “Except for the Lunatic King, but he was under an enchantment. Still is, I think.”
The story of the Lunatic King is one used to warn human children away from the vicious creatures. “Do you think the shifter tonight could be the King? Maybe he mistook me for his mate, like in the legend. That owl guy?—”
“Shifters have names,” Pinky interrupts testily.
“Sorry.” There’s nothing Pinky hates more than shifter generalization. “Thorny, I think is his name. He said the wolf who jumped on me was a member of the royal family.”
