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Rory checked their surroundings, then helped Siofra out of the cab in an older part of Spartanburg where he knew the owner of a restaurant. He cupped her arm and kept her between him and the buildings while they walked along, enjoying a ten-degree drop in temps since the sun had gone down. Perfect for an early evening stroll. Not bad humidity, either, for August in the south, but that wouldn’t last.
He’d like to take her somewhere fancier than the Italian restaurant he had in mind, but he didn’t want her to feel out of place.
The one thing he understood about women was to not walk them into an uncomfortable setting. That would normally mean to inform them ahead of time of all details so they could prepare with everything from hair to clothes to makeup.
He’d learned that lesson as an awkward teenage boy.
Siofra needed no dolling up. She had a special flair all her own and outshined any woman in the room just by smiling. He loved her smile.
But that smile would be as recognizable as her hair and eyes. For that reason, he didn’t want her out in the open much.
This short walk was to give her a moment to feel normal.
She’d never eaten in a restaurant or spent the night in a hotel.
She said the Cadells had captured her when she was young and she’d only recently escaped from them.
What kind of hell had she been through, living with them?
This whole night could be a first and he liked being the one to share firsts with her. He could tell that just walking down this sidewalk like a normal person was special for her.
His heart clenched at the life of imprisonment she’d lived. She was clearly educated and knew the basics she needed for functioning in life, but she probably had little experience with things most people took in stride.
He now understood why she had not been quick to tell the truth. He wouldn’t have trusted anyone after living in captivity since childhood.
She could have tonight to be herself. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
He would watch over her and dare anyone to interfere or try to harm her. No one should know that she was in Spartanburg, but in the preternatural world you had to expect the unexpected.
Especially if the Cadells were involved.
At the next entrance, he led her into a building and took a roundabout way to reach the rear of the structure, then out and across a short parking lot to a steel door where he pushed a buzzer.
He’d kept up a constant scan of their surroundings the entire time. No one had followed.
When she took a half step away, he snagged her arm and towed her back between him and the door.
She stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want you out of my reach.”
He expected her to snipe at him, but she looked up as if he’d just given her a gift.
Before he could ask her what she was thinking, the door opened and a deep voice said, “Yes?”
Rory brought on a country twang. “Do you know how to make those little round spaghettis?”
His friend snorted, opened the door wider and said, “Get in before I turn you into a stew.”
Hustling her inside, Rory said, “Siofra, meet Domenico.”
“Nice to meet you.” She sounded shy. Cute.
The Italian chef made a half bow, then straightened and said, “It will be my pleasure to serve you in spite of the company you keep.”
She laughed, a tinkling sound that warmed Rory’s cold heart.
Domenico led them through the kitchen where cooks were busy preparing food and grousing at each other. They followed the chef through a narrow, dark walkway for ten steps.
He paused and turned to wave an arm to the left. “As you requested, my friend.”
Rory gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I really appreciate this.”
“Good. Enjoy. Marcia will bring you everything.”
Rory showed Siofra to a booth separated from the rest of the patrons by sheer privacy curtains. That allowed her to see out, but no one could see her. It was the closest he could give her to being in a restaurant without being exposed.
He’d called Domenico and explained he had a nervous guest who had not dined out much, and that he was protecting her. Rory had done a favor for Domenico a year ago and the chef had been waiting on the chance to repay him ever since.
Rory didn’t date many women who wanted dinner, only dessert.
Sharing a meal with a woman like Siofra felt like a first for him, too. In fact, he hadn’t felt this way since back when he’d gone to his prom.
Siofra was sitting so carefully, as if she’d make a wrong move and embarrass him, that watching her snagged at his heart.
He could imagine her worry over choosing from a menu so he leaned over close and said, “This guy is great, but he won’t let me order. Says he knows what we need. Hope you like everything.”
She let out a pent-up breath. “I’m sure I’ll love it. Just the smells in here are amazing.” Then she finally relaxed.
What did you talk about with a woman who had led a life like hers? He didn’t want her to feel like he was interrogating her, but the ability to chitchat had not been a requirement for his job. If it had been, he’d have needed remedial courses.
She had asked him to wait until tomorrow to hear about living with the Cadells.
He’d intended to respect that, but he wanted to learn more about her. “Would you tell me about the Cadells, Siofra?”
Her face paled and she stared at the tablecloth.
Well, he’d fucked that one up.
He sucked.
Ferrell sent Rory an image of Siofra dumping a bowl of spaghetti on his head. Hard to argue with his jaguar.
“They came to our apartment. My father was terrified of them. He handed me over.” She paused and swallowed hard. “They still killed him and took me as slave labor,” she started slowly. “We were in Indiana in a city called Gary. At least, that’s what I remember, but it’s been so long and I’ve had no one to talk to about it, so I might have some things wrong. I’m guessing they had some run-in with my father.” She lifted her shoulders, sounding unsure what else she could say.
He put his hand over hers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up after you asked me to wait. I just ... it was bugging me. We don’t get a lot of information on the Cadells. Hearing you’d been with them was ... bizarre.”
“It’s okay. At least you didn’t act as if I was with them voluntarily like your boss did.”
“He’s protective of his people.” The Guardian had probably wigged out the minute he heard the word Cadell from the lips of someone who had knocked Rory off his feet with her power. Rory hadn’t heard much of that conversation and Siofra had a way of dodging answers that had more than likely ruffled the Guardian’s feathers.
“Eh, your boss made up for it with the hotel room.” She seemed to brush off the insult easily, but he could tell she was tired of being persecuted for things out of her control.
After that first dumb question, he wasn’t sure what to say next. He might as well be that skinny teenager on his first date again, terrified of saying the wrong thing.
Siofra lifted her gaze to him and her eyes sparked with challenge. “Payback time. Tell me who you are, Rory.”
When she looked at him like that, he wanted to give up all of his secrets, but he had enough self-discipline to not make that mistake.
If he wanted her to talk, this was his opening. He didn’t share things about his family, but then again no one had asked about them in many years. “I grew up in Virginia. I was the oldest of three boys.”
“Are your brothers married?”
“No.”
“Where do they live?”
His heart hurt the minute she said the word “brother.” “One is backpacking across Europe and the other one, uh, died.”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” He had to move off that topic. “As for me, I went into the service, was trained for Special Forces, and ended up here.”
That so wasn’t the way it happened, but he couldn’t just lay out his history to her or share about the Guardian calling up his jaguar when he turned twenty-one.
“Are all of your family shifters?”
“No. Just me.”
She angled her head at that. “How ... I’ve never heard of a shifter coming from two human parents.” She shook her head. “On the other hand, I only know what I’ve learned around jackal shifter guards.”
And this was just one reason he avoided talking about his family and never with a woman, but those women generally weren’t interested in him using his mouth to talk.
His brain kept separating all other women from ... Siofra.
He gave her the best answer he could about being a shifter born of human parents. “There’s a lot about shifters we don’t know and it will be decades before enough information is shared that we have a better understanding of the species.” Saying that made him feel like a bug to be studied, but he’d spoken the truth.
“What’s the deal with your boss?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does he run the organization you work for or does someone else pull the strings, and why do his eyes look like an eagle when he’s in human form? I’m guessing he must be some sort of eagle shifter.”
At one time, the Guardian would not have shown his face to outsiders, but he’d told the Gallize shifters that he would have to risk personal exposure to better serve them as a leader in this new era.
Once Rory figured out what had happened after Siofra’s power had knocked him out, he realized the boss had done what he always did when it came to protecting his Gallize. Whatever it took. He’d exposed his face to a stranger, someone who had been with Cadells, to find out what had happened to Rory.
That was humbling and admirable, but Rory still couldn’t tell Siofra too much. “Our boss does head up our organization. He’s the top of the shifter food chain for us. He’s a little older than most shifters you’ve met and that has something to do with his eyes.”
“What’s his name?”
He hedged by saying, “We just call him sir.”
Rory had no idea how he was going to get off this topic, but Marcia saved him by showing up with two glasses of red wine. Rory had no background in wine but knew whatever Domenico sent would be good.
Siofra watched her glass of wine with wide eyes that turned worried.
Marcia said she’d be right back with food and disappeared.
Rory asked, “Do you not like wine? I’ll get you something else.”
“I don’t know that I won’t like it.” She stopped talking and started fidgeting. “I’m just concerned about whether I can handle it.”
He put his hand over her cold one, drawing her attention to him. “You can have anything you want. Don’t hesitate to just say no.”
“I’m learning to use that word,” she muttered.
He hurt for what she’d endured around people she feared telling “no.”
When Marcia returned carrying a tray loaded with piles of plates, Rory waited as she covered the table with food. She shredded cheese over a couple of the dishes and asked if they needed anything else at the moment.
Rory told her to tell Domenico the wine was wonderful, but to please bring his guest a soft drink.
The minute she left, Siofra started apologizing. “I didn’t mean to be difficult. I really appreciate the dinner and—”
“Hush,” he ordered in a gentle voice. “It’s not an inconvenience. I should have asked, because I knew wine was coming.”
Marcia returned quickly, placing a mouth-watering lasagna in front of Siofra, who hesitated only a minute then dove into the food.
As they ate and shared dishes between them, she relaxed and Rory enjoyed the kind of evening he never had. Siofra wasn’t like the other women who would be sliding their hands all over him, teasing him with what was to come.
She made him happy just by being here.
She acted as if this meal meant more than diamonds and silk. He’d never considered a meal anything other than trying to show a courtesy before he got down to business with a woman.
He hadn’t been after a relationship with those females any more than the women had wanted one with him.
But this meal? He liked just taking his time and enjoying the way Siofra smiled from time to time and occasionally teased him as if they’d known each other much longer.
Little by little, she opened up about her jobs at the camps. While it sounded like a miserable existence, her eyes lit up when she talked about caring for the children and making them special outfits. He could see her being a strong mother, willing to stand up to protect her family.
The idea of her having a family made him happy.
The thought that she’d share it with another man, not so much.
She started to reach for a serving dish and paused with a light-hearted look. “Are you going to eat the rest of that lasagna or am I going to have to arm wrestle you for it?”
Little moments like that told him she was beginning to trust him more. He busted up laughing at her.
She grinned. “What?”
“It’s yours.”
“Good thing. I wouldn’t win arm wrestling with you so I’d have to pull the poor-me girl card.”
He bet she’d never really pulled that card in her life. He said, “You don’t know what’s coming for dessert. You may need your girl card for that.”
She scraped the last of the lasagna onto her plate, not the least bit self-conscious about eating so much.
He loved it.
He also loved this meal. Domenico had outdone himself.
“Eh, I don’t care about dessert,” she said. “I know as a shifter you can clear this table and still be hungry, so you can have everything else. I just want this.”
“You have pretty good knowledge of shifters.”
She paused and he had a moment of regret until she said, “One of the jobs I worked in the Cadell camps was in the kitchen. We always had jackal shifters. Took a lot to feed them.”
Another small nugget from her. To keep the evening light, Rory noted how she’d piled her plate. “You like lasagna, huh?”
“Honestly, I’ve never had it before. It’s now my new favorite food of all time.”
His jaguar purred at sharing another first with her.
She cut her eyes at him and angled her head in a thoughtful way. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Never thought about it. I just eat a lot.”
“Oh, come on. You have to have a favorite.”
For years, he’d avoided liking anything enough to miss it if he could never have it again. But he’d had a family at one time, and her sweet tone sent his mind back to a time when he was growing up. “Cherry cobbler.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s made with crust and cherries and ... hell, I don’t know. It’s like a cherry pie mixed up and dumped in a loaf pan. Give me a plate of that when it’s warm with a scoop of ice cream and that’s the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”
She forked another piece of lasagna into her mouth and chewed with a dreamy look on her face. Then she wiped her lips with the napkin and said, “You eat cobbler a lot?”
“No. Haven’t had it in five years.”
Her fork stalled in midmotion. She turned to him. “Why not? You’re a free person and I know you must have money to afford it.”
How could he tell her that he only wanted the homemade cobbler his mom used to make for his birthday, and those days had stopped happening when he went into the military.
Actually, that was wrong.
It stopped when she didn’t hear from him during the longest year of his life after he first became a shifter. He’d been experiencing crazy physical problems until the moment a black ops team of shifters snatched him. By the time they delivered him to the Guardian, he was losing his mind and ready to attack anything. The Guardian called up Rory’s jaguar.
He spent the first month just trying to accept that he was not human and the rest of the time getting his ass kicked as he learned to handle his animal. Gaining control took many more months, then he entered a special division of the military.
Rory went home one time, had an argument with his baby brother, and left. His brother, curious about shifters when they came out, later died while at a meeting of shifters. His mother blamed Rory, but not because he was a shifter. She had no idea about that.
She blamed him for not being there for the brother who idolized Rory.
That was the end of any family visits and cherry cobblers.
“Rory? You were going to tell me why you haven’t had your favorite dessert in five years.”
“Someone in my family used to make it. I haven’t been around them for a long time. To be honest, I’m not up for talking about my family tonight.”
Siofra flashed a suspicious glance at him, but let it go and finished eating. She even managed to scarf down a full helping of cannoli when Marcia served them dessert.
Domenico came out of the kitchen, looking like the Italian chef he was from curly black hair and big brown eyes to his thick belly. Sweat drizzled from beneath his white cap. He worked hard creating great food over hot fires.
“It is good, yes?” Domenico’s thick black eyebrows lifted in expectation.
Before Rory could answer, Siofra said, “That was the most amazing meal I have ever eaten and that dessert deserves awards.”
The chef didn’t need to know that was her first time in a restaurant, because the food had seriously rocked.
Rory chuckled, “I can’t say it any better than she did. Thanks for this. It was perfect.”
Domenico made another half bow. “It has been my pleasure. I will have something new for your next visit.”
Her face fell a little, but she kept her smile in place. “I can’t wait.”
Funny thing was that Rory had the same moment of disappointment he felt certain Siofra had suffered. When would the two of them ever do this again?
Never.
He hustled her outside where streetlights glowed now that dark had pushed away any sign of sunset. He glanced around to check for threats, but he felt so good about dinner that he decided to take her for a stroll before taking a cab to the hotel.
A soft evening breeze added to the peaceful feeling until Ferrell went on alert, growling that a threat was nearby.
Rory had kept a keen eye out for anyone following or paying attention to them. He’d seen no one.
His jaguar sent the image of a giant rat with fangs.
That’s when Rory noticed a rat keeping pace with them about five feet behind. The rodent was hardly visible in the dark as it ran from shadow to shadow.
That continued for the next block.
What the hell?
Evil. One word from Ferrell and Rory went on high alert.
Magic was afoot.
Siofra had been chatting happily. “I think being a chef would be amazing, but ... it’s probably because I’d have food around all the time.” She snorted at that and added, “Still, I’d love to learn how to cook more than basic food in large quantities.”
After a few more steps, she stopped talking about food and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Rory whispered, “Maybe nothing. Just keeping an eye out.”
The next time he looked over his shoulder, the rat continued to move at a steady pace, like a little robot.
Siofra followed his gaze and had a tiny jerk reaction. “What the ... ”
“Wait until we can talk,” he said to keep her from saying anything else around this rat. He also didn’t want to be distracted around a possible threat.
The strangest part was that he couldn’t scent the rat.
Not that he wanted to smell that stinking creature, but everything about it seemed bizarre.
When he pulled Siofra into a hard right turn at the next corner, she yelped.
That damn rat stayed with them.
“Sorry, Siofra, but I think we have unexpected company,” he explained in a whisper, keeping her close. “Be ready to jump when I tell you.”
Based on what little he knew about her, Siofra’s normal reaction would be to snap at him about jumping when he said, but she seemed to grasp the gravity of his concern. “I’m ready.”
Looking over his shoulder, he waited until an available cab approached and waved a hand. He picked up his pace, forcing her to jog until they reached the cab as it pulled to the curb. He opened the door, rushed her in and slammed the door behind him.
Fucking rat scurried over and sat up a few feet from the curb, staring at him like they knew each other.
Rory gave the driver an address and the cab sped away while the rat sat frozen in that spot.
What the hell was that about?
Riding back to the hotel would have been a short jaunt, but Rory wanted to first determine if they were being tracked. He changed their final destination a few times. Then Rory instructed the driver to take them to Cleveland Park.
Siofra’s eyebrows went up when they finally stopped, but she didn’t question it.
He paid the driver and helped Siofra out while he scanned around them. “Let’s walk off our dinner then we’ll go back, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
He could smell her fear, but she kept her chin up and acted as if this was exactly what they’d planned. He would have taken her to the hotel if he knew for sure they weren’t followed. If someone was using magic with animals, he wanted a chance to see if it happened more than once and believed himself capable of protecting her from a rat.
If it happened again, he’d have to change tonight’s plans.
After a short stroll, he located a bench with plenty of light near a playground and said, “We’ll sit a bit.”
“Sure.”
Her answers were getting shorter and sounding more panicked. When she sat next to him, he eased closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder. Sixty feet away, a man watched his little boy climb around on the activity structures.
A couple walked their dog along the jogging path.
Siofra’s body had become rigid. She whispered, “What’s going on?”
“Not sure yet, but you’re safe with me. I just want a moment out here in the open where I can determine whether someone is following us.”
“You mean the ... rat?”
Sure, it sounded crazy, but he said, “Yes.”
She didn’t say another thing for the next few minutes, just sat very still. What was going through that mind?
Pigeons generally flew only during the day unless lights were on near trees, which was why it didn’t surprise him to see just a few land nearby, peck around and fly off.
A gray one made two laps around their bench and arced down, landing with stiff motions about fifteen feet away.
Siofra gasped. “Oh, shit.”
Did she know what was going on? He warned, “If you know something, don’t hold back or you’ll get us both killed.”
She looked around at him for the longest moment and finally said, “Okay, I’m not sure, but here’s what I think. When I was with the ... ”
Her words fell off as the pigeon headed over to them. It didn’t bob its head as it walked. Once it reached the light, Rory could see dark, empty holes for eyes. Fuck.
He knew of only one thing that might be.
Siofra’s mouth was open and terror flooded her gaze.
When the pigeon stood below them, it looked at Siofra and opened its beak. “You must go home, Siofra.”
