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“Dammit.”
Stopping, I spun in a circle and became an idiot, trying to use my eyes again to find her. But it felt as if that method should work faster.
Except it didn’t. At all.
I just about decked a couple when they inadvertently walked into my path. The frustration mounted, so I decided to stop and regroup.
Ignoring the zing in my blood that told me to keep with the chase and catch that girl because I was so close, I found a clearing among the throng and just stood there a moment with my hands on my hips, letting my brain clear so I could think.
Okay, so what had just happened here?
I hadn’t found the man from the market two days ago, but I’d found a little girl. And they both had lit up my mark like a fire to dry kindling. So either I had two true loves, and they just happened to be in the same village at that same time, or somehow the old man was now the little girl.
I blinked. A shapeshifter? I knew some people could turn into animals and back to humans again. Some animals could turn from one species to the next. But I’d never heard of a human switching between different human forms. Didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. It just didn’t feel like the answer in this situation.
“Hey, sugar,” a male voice cooed just before a hand slid across my chest.
I turned to find a prostitute before me, smiling with clear invitation.
“You look lost,” she told me, her masculine tone totally not fitting the delicately feminine features she sported. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll help you find your way...” Her painted eyebrows waggled suggestively. “Right into my boudoir.”
“Oh! Uh, no, thank you, ma’am,” I told her, starting to turn back in the direction I’d seen that girl.
But the woman grabbed my arm, her grip strong. Stepping closer, she leaned in, lowering her voice. “If you’re not into the ladies, I could be a man for you.” With a wink, she confided, “Your glamour of choice, love.”
“Glamour?” I murmured the word, my eyes widening. “Son of a bitch, that’s it!”
My true love had been wearing a glamour, magically altering his—her? I had no idea which gender they were now—appearance to look like someone else. It’d been a good glamour, too. Quite believable. I hadn’t even considered I wasn’t seeing his true form when I’d first set eyes on him.
“Thank you,” I told the prostitute, reaching out to squeeze her hand in gratitude. “Thank you so much.” She blinked long, fake lashes at me, clearly confused as to why she was being thanked. I offered her one last smile before I took off in the direction that I knew my true love lay.
I had no clue if his or her true identity lay with the man or girl, or maybe neither, but I had to admit, I kind of rooted for the girl. She was the gender I preferred, anyway. Too young right now but, honestly, she had to be closer to me in age than the man had been. It’d be nice to be with someone who shared roughly the same lifespan with me, that way we’d have more of a chance to live our entire lives together before one or the other died.
And I wanted years to spend with her. Or him.
I frowned. It’d be really nice to know exactly who this person was so I could at least get the pronoun right. And so I could learn why they were hiding so stealthily.
One thing I knew for certain: they knew what I looked like, and they were fully aware I wanted to make contact with them. But for reasons unknown, they did not want to talk to me in return. So I was going to have to be even stealthier than ever, maybe find my own disguise. Except I’d never been one to hide anything about my appearance. Call it a strange point of pride, but I wanted people to see what they got when it came to me.
Twenty-four hours later, I realized my pride was stupid.
After catching up with my mate while he was posing as a male about my age but a little taller and bulkier, he caught sight of me, again. And thus, he got away.
Again.
I had no idea what source he was getting his glamour from, but it was damn impressive; all three identities had been the most detailed disguises I’d ever seen.
If I could’ve gotten my hands on my own glamour, I would have then, because there was no way in hell my true love was going to let me approach him as I was.
Making do as best as I could, I bought a cloak and whipped the hood up. The weather was a bit warm for such apparel, but I didn’t care. I just had to get close enough to make contact, and then they’d see…
They’d know there was nothing to fear from me.
Once again veering away from the village, I followed the tingling in my mark to a smaller settlement about ten miles out. For some reason, the black cat with the white paws tagged along. It had been with me since we’d met in the alley.
Sometimes it dogged my horse’s steps, sometimes it led the way along the path as if it knew exactly where we were going, and sometimes it darted off to the side after a field mouse to catch a meal.
After it ignored my initial attempts to shoo it back into town the first day that I left the village to follow the draw from my mark, I gave up and shared my meals with the cat—which it always greedily accepted—and I struck up the occasional conversation with it.
