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BRIAN
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IF THERE HAD BEEN A shadow of a doubt that Rowena meant business this time, it disappeared with the morning vapor two days later. From the top of a small hillock above my house I watched as Azem’s truck pulled in and he and a young girl—Lily Falconer, I presumed—climbed out of it. As part of Rowena’s grand plan, Lily would join my household as my IT assistant.
The Killians met them at the entrance. Harriet ushered Lily in while Jason and Azem unloaded the truck.
Thanks to Ahmed and Azem, the fictitious ArtePolis had become a legal and solvent company the previous day and was ready to undertake its next—or first—project: to reintegrate a small, neglected historic block into its city core.
I felt a rush of excitement. Damn, I’d really like to do it.
Followed by a rush of fear. How was I going to do it?
I’d studied a different kind of architecture and urban design. It was so long ago I could say I had a degree in history of architecture. I didn’t know much about urban development either. I had financially supported a number of heritage projects, but the last one had been long before my young architect was born. I’d need to rely on her more than I’d like.
Judging by her excellent assessment of the Cosmopolitan Hotel, I’d say she was up to the task.
I’d need her competence more than she could imagine. It’d been months since I settled in Copper Ridge, yet I still felt disoriented, as if I’d been teleported into the future, where things were both familiar and unknown at the same time.
Hal and I, and to some extent Rowena, had missed a quarter of a century of the progress of civilization: in science, in electronic and computer technology, in art, music, political science, literature, you name it. I used my recent self-imposed isolation to immerse myself in closing this gap, with various levels of enthusiasm, depending on my physical and mental state.
Then there was the problem with my shifting. Hal had been the first to reclaim human form, keep it indefinitely and, just like before, change to a blaidd by will. Although I doubted he’d do it soon. Twenty-five years in a wolf body was enough.
I was still like a twisted male parody of Cinderella. The temporary—and painful—privilege of being in my human body would start to wear off around midnight and I’d involuntarily change into a wolf.
That would change once I fully recovered.
Wouldn’t it?
I wanted to believe everything would be fine in the end.
Before I’d gotten injured, shapeshifting was a deliberate process, starting from my feet up. I’d feel the ticklish sensation of bones adjusting, internal organs changing their shapes, the thickening of the skin and quick growth of dark fur. My transformation had been fast: ten, twelve seconds tops. To the best of my knowledge, only my son could shift in less time.
My daughter-in-law, I’d heard, used to have troubles with her wolf and had suffered through sudden and uncontrollable transformations until her human side had accepted her wolf spirit. My problem seemed the opposite: I had trouble accepting my human side.
My shifting wasn’t painful; it brought a great relief. No pain, no discomfort right up until dawn, when I’d turn back into a human and the whole cycle of misery would start again.
Rowena said I was doing that to myself. I wouldn’t admit it, but I knew she was right. Unable to accept the fact that life had continued while I had been dead to it, I sabotaged my own recovery.
I wanted to change it. I was tired of being sick, lonely, unhappy. I wanted to see my son.
Was I ready to meet my wife and her husband? Hell, no, but did I have a choice?
So be it, I thought, sprinting down toward the house with a distinct feeling that a new chapter of my life was about to begin.
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HARRIET STOOD IN THE hallway, arms on her hips.
“Why didn’t you change in the barn? You left your prints all over the floor. I’ve just mopped it.”
I sent her a telepathic apology, accompanied by the humblest wolf smile I was able to manage. “I’m sorry, Harriet. It’s muddy outside.”
She shook her head and sighed. “It’s okay. I showed Lily her room and her office. Azem moved her stuff in and now he’s putting a computer desk together for her. When he’s done, we can have breakfast. Will you join us?”
My stomach rumbled. “Won’t say no. I smell bacon, eggs and breakfast rolls.”
“Very well then. I’ll make fresh coffee.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
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LILY WAS ALONE IN THE living room when I came in.
“Mr. Canagan, I’m glad to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said and walked toward me with an outstretched hand and wide smile.
Lily was a tall and pretty girl, with dark hair, hazel eyes, and brisk movements.
I shook her hand. “Here’s my biographer. Welcome, Lily. Thank you for coming. Please make yourself at home. How are your parents? I heard you have a brother?”
“Alec, yes. Mom and Dad are fine. They’ll be happy to know you’re alive. They always talk about you.” A pause. “Mr. Canagan, I hope you don’t mind Rowena told me who you are?”
It wouldn’t make a difference even if I did mind. I smiled. “That’s okay. I know I can trust you to keep my secret for a bit longer.”
“As long as needed. Now, have you read what I wrote about you? Do you like it? I tried to stick to the truth as much as I could.”
“You did an excellent job, Lily.”
“I had very little time, you know. We can’t make any changes now, unfortunately, I bet Mrs. Fontaine’s architect already went through it.”
“No doubt. Mrs. Fontaine had to trick her to stop her poking around before we had anything posted about me. It’s fine as it is, and it’ll serve our purpose. Tell me about your room. Is it okay?”
Lily smiled. “It’s charming. And very, er, orange.”
My own room—the master bedroom—had had lavender walls before I’d had it repainted in maple-syrup brown.
There was also a green, a purple and a pink room, among others. We referred to the rooms in the house by their wall colors, which was practical since no two rooms sported the same hue, and there were eight of them. The one called “green” was painted in the emerald shade and was one of the largest and brightest in the house, albeit cramped with furniture. It had its own bathroom and it was connected to my bedroom with a private door. The idea was to knock down the wall between the two rooms and combine them into a single sleeping and sitting area. I liked having lots of space.
“This is a very peculiar house in terms of interior decoration and color schemes,” I said, “but I’m innocent here. I bought it like this.” The previous owners, the commander of Seth’s personal guard and his wife, had a thing for crazy wall colors, grandiose antique furniture and kitschy decorative details.
Lily made a vague motion with her hand. “I can tell there isn’t a shortage of furniture and accessories here. Anyhow, my room’s fine. I happen to like the color orange.”
“Feel free to adjust it to your liking, even have it repainted. You’re probably going to stay here for a while, I want you to feel comfortable.”
“Thank you, Mr. Canagan. The small room to the left of your bedroom will be my office. I hope that’s okay. It was the only one that was empty.”
“Of course.”
“Breakfast’s ready!” Harriet announced from the kitchen. “Brian, shall we eat here, or do you want me to serve it in the dining room?”
“We’re coming to the kitchen, Harriet.”
I liked my kitchen. When I bought the house, it was the only space that looked normal. Unlike the rest of the house, it had been spared from ridiculous interior design experiments. My predecessors hadn’t found the kitchen significant enough to include in their decorating frenzy.
Jason and Azem soon joined us.
“Lily, I placed the desk away from the window, as you asked,” Azem said, taking a seat. “I can help you unpack and connect the equipment. Later you and I can go to Copper Ridge to get those gadgets you mentioned you’d need.” He paused. “We can have lunch together.”
Lily blinked several times before she said, “Why?”
Azem cleared his throat. “Why not?” he said and focused on his plate.
Jason rubbed his chin to hide a smile. Harriet and I exchanged a look.