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She and her mentor had an odd relationship. There was an affection there, but one which dictated mutual destruction if they turned on or abandoned one another. Nora knew if she were ever to be free, the Master would have to die and most likely at her instigation. She wasn’t ready yet to have his blood on her hands.
Spotting a copse of trees, Nora charged up a tree until she was hidden by its boughs. Her shifted self was delighted, leaping between the branches of different trees. She knew she needed to get back to The Refuge. The people of Mystic River might know she was a shifter, but they didn’t know what kind and she meant to keep it that way. Repositioning herself, she ran headfirst down the tree, the clouded leopard’s ability to rotate its hind feet allowing her to do so.
Nora neared the bottom of the tree and then launched herself to the ground, making her way across the icy ground back to the pavilion, where she made short work of shifting and getting back into her clothes. Trudy’s B&B wasn’t far, and she made it there in good time, letting herself in and heading to her room. Once there, she undressed, took a quick shower, and crawled into bed. The run had done her some good physically, but her mind and emotions were still in turmoil.
What the hell was she going to do about the target? The more she thought about it, the more it turned her stomach, but did she have a choice? Had she ever had one?
* * *
The following morning, she was awakened by her cell phone ringing. The caller on the other end did not register on her caller ID and did not wait for the customary pleasantries, but then, those in the Shadow League rarely did.
“Is it done?” the male voice asked.
“Not yet.”
“Why not? You were ordered to kill him.”
If the shifter world was primarily male dominant, the Shadow League was even worse. As far as she knew, not one woman played a significant role in their ranks. She rather imagined they didn’t like that she was female, but they didn’t have a choice.
“I know my assignment. I would point out if you and your brethren hadn’t fucked it up three times, my skills wouldn’t have been necessary. As it is, the target and his friends are on high alert. If I am to survive to be of further service to the Master, I will need time to prepare and execute the kill. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with the Master.”
There was silence on the other end.
“That’s what I thought. Do not bother me again,” she said in an imperious voice and ended the call.
The League might not like her, but they were afraid of the man they called their ‘Master.’
The run had done her good last night. She got up, got dressed, put on makeup, and pulled her hair up into a messy bun. She trotted down the stairs ready to head out.
“Good; you’re up. I can start breakfast,” said Trudy, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron.
A large man followed her, his hand slipping from her waist to her ass, as he tipped her head back and kissed her. It wasn’t a big ‘Hollywood-style’ kiss, but the passion and feeling were there, nonetheless.
“I’ll be up at Windsong if you need me, lass,” said the burly man in a heavy Scottish accent.
He acknowledged Nora’s presence. “Good morning, Nora.”
For some reason, witnessing the easy intimacy between them made her smile and yet clutched at her heart. She knew she would never have anything like that.
‘Not unless you have the courage to follow your heart,’ whispered her inner voice—an inner voice she had long ago learned to ignore.
Nora nodded toward the man who obviously shared Trudy’s life and bed and watched him leave. “No need. I’m not much of a breakfast person. I probably should have told you that.”
“Not to worry. I want you to be comfortable while you’re here.”
“I thought I’d go for a walk, maybe take some pictures, and then come back and write for a bit.”
“I should be around all day. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Nora headed outside and felt drawn to the bakery. She told herself it was to observe the target before scouting the town for the best way to complete her assignment and get away. Normally, she performed her assigned task with little thought to anything other than finishing the job and getting back home with no one knowing she was responsible. But this time was different.
She walked along Main Street, doing a bit of window shopping here and there and acknowledging greetings. She stopped to chat with a few people and wondered how they knew her name. What she realized was Mystic River was a small town and little went on that wasn’t known by everyone.
As a woman approached the door of the bakery loaded down with pastries and loaves of bread, Nora held the door open for her.
“Thank you,” said the woman. “You must be Nora. Welcome to Mystic River.” She turned to look at Hutch. “Thanks, again, Hutch.”
Nora slipped in and took a seat at one of the tables, watching the predatory grace with which he moved behind the counter. As he waited on the few customers, it was all she could do not to drool. He really was the tastiest treat in his bakery.
