Chapter 16

My eyes flew open as Ríkr's telepathic voice pierced my consciousness.

There is an intensely conceited bird on my roof,he complained loudly. There is an unduly imperious horse in my pasture. There are two fractionally less overbearing canines in my yard. And there is an extravagantly tempting druid asleep on my sofa.

I squinted blearily, the fading dregs of my dream swimming through my head. "Tempting?"

The heady scent of his power is making me dizzy with thirst. I am a dormant shrub in the driest desert, and he is the first rain of the monsoons. His allure is like the kiss of summer sunlight after—

"Get a grip, Ríkr," I groaned. As my vision cleared, I spotted the shapeshifter—sitting on my nightstand in cat form, his ears bent sideways in displeasure. "Or are you practicing your druid pickup lines?"

His back arched with irritation. You have no concept of how delectable druid power is.

"You're right, I don't." I yawned good and long, then grabbed my phone. The clock read 4:58 a.m. and I switched off my five o'clock alarm. "What's so special about druid power? He's just an extra powerful witch, right?"

Ríkr grunted crankily, and I rolled my eyes. He wasn't a morning fae.

Witches,he began in an impatient, lofty tone, possess a well of spiritual energy that they can harmonize with the energies of nature. They then attempt to manipulate the latter by shaping the former.

"Yes, I know all that." He was describing witch rituals. The witch patterned her power to match the flow of the earth's energy, then shifted her energy to a new pattern, causing the other energies to move with it. It required a lot of "instinct" and "natural ability," which I lacked. The witch bloodline must not run strong in my family.

I pulled my hair free from the topknot I'd slept in and combed my fingers through it. My nose wrinkled as a distinctly equine musk perfumed the air. I'd intended to shower before sleeping, but after Zak had taken over my living room, I'd gone straight to bed. Now I'd have to change my sheets.

Druids,Ríkr continued, are the opposite. Their power is so intense and commanding that nature's energies seek to harmonize with them.

My hands paused, fingers tangled in my hair.

A druid's aura is infectious to the very land. All that exists around him harmonizes with his energy, spreading outward, multiplying his presence. If he is calm, serenity blankets the pastures. If he is angry, restless energies cascade across the fields.

"Wait, across the fields? That far?"

The longer he is here, the more his presence spreads.Ríkr's tail lashed. Nomadic druids are rare. Usually, they choose a territory and allow the land to harmonize deeply with them, increasing their influence over it and the fae who flock to them.

I lowered my arms. Was Zak nomadic, or merely… on a business trip?

Ríkr bared his sharp feline teeth. I want to devour his energy as much as I want to chase him out of my territory before it becomes his.

"No devouring," I muttered. "I don't think his bird, horse, and dog pals would like that."

Ríkr grumbled wordlessly.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I stretched my calves, the muscles tight after yesterday's hike, then pulled my sweatpants on. With a selection of clean clothes tucked under my arm, I cracked my door open and peeked out.

Predawn light cast a bluish tinge through the main room, illuminating the druid stretched out on my sofa, one leg hanging off. He was too tall for it and probably painfully uncomfortable, but with an arm slung over his face to block out the slowly increasing light, he seemed to be fast asleep.

I tiptoed to the bathroom and locked myself in. My shower was quick but hot, and as I massaged shampoo into my scalp, I tried to recall the dream Ríkr had interrupted. Jagged flashes of a dark alley assaulted me, coming on a wave of anguished fury that left me breathless, and I abandoned the attempt.

Out of the shower, I blow-dried my hair. My thick bangs needed trimming, the severe line falling below my eyebrows, and I squinched my eyes in a vain attempt to lessen the intensity of my pale blue-gray stare.

Zak was still sleeping—or attempting to sleep—when I exited the bathroom. I debated waking him up and kicking him out, but he'd looked so tired yesterday that I wondered how much rest he'd gotten in the past few days.

Leaving him be, I slipped out of my suite, down the stairs, and out into the chill dawn air. I might have a druid in my living room, a killer on my mountain, and MagiPol agents lurking around my coven, but I also had responsibilities I couldn't ignore.

By the time I finished my morning chores, the sun was properly up and I had less than fifteen minutes to get ready for work. I stumped back up the stairs to my suite, and when I opened my front door, the rich aroma of coffee met me like a warm embrace. Zak leaned against the tiny stretch of counter in my kitchenette, the percolating coffeemaker and two mugs beside him. Ríkr was perched on the back of the sofa, now in hawk form with his feathers ruffled grumpily.

"How do you take your coffee?" the druid rumbled, his voice rougher than usual from sleep.

"Black."

"Fitting."

As he poured two cups, I hastened into the bathroom to plug in my straightening iron, then brushed past him into my bedroom. Emerging again dressed in pale blue scrubs, I accepted the mug he offered and carried it into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked, taking a steaming sip.

"It looks like you're going to work."

I tugged my hair out of its messy bun and swiftly brushed it. "I faked a family emergency yesterday. I can't miss again."

He leaned against the doorjamb. "Then see if you can find anything about that dead palomino, or stories of people's pets dying unexpectedly."

Wielding the straightening iron, I smoothed the kinks out of my hair. It didn't take much; my hair was deeply opposed to any form of curl. "What about you?"

"I'm interested in your coven leader's death and what that might have to do with—"

"Don't even think about going near my coven," I threatened. My original plan to sic the MPD on him for Arla's death was no longer viable. If he went anywhere near my coven, and the MagiPol agents investigating it, I'd end up sent to the gallows right along with him, mistaken for his accomplice. I never should've let him in my home.

He watched me run another lock of hair through the straightening iron. "I can head back up the mountain to check out the trails we think the killer followed, but I'm running low on supplies. Do you have a vehicle?"

"The white and teal truck is mine."

"Can I borrow it?"

"I need it to get to work."

"I'll ride with you to your clinic and return the truck by lunch."

I unplugged the iron, then squinted at his reflection in the mirror. Tilliag could carry him most places, but a horse galloping through city streets would attract attention. And while the fae stallion seemed capable of vanishing at will, he was actually crossing into the fae demesne when he disappeared. That wasn't a place he could take his rider—at least, not for longer than a few minutes, as Ríkr had once explained.

"You're a fugitive," I pointed out. "You can't just walk around grocery stores like a regular person, can you?"

"The chances I'll run into a bounty hunter or MagiPol agent in Coquitlam are minuscule. Even if I did, they aren't likely to recognize me, especially since the MPD is convinced I'm in Victoria."

"Victoria? Why?"

He smirked. "Because that's what I want them to think."

Ire tugged at the corners of my mouth. "If you leave my truck at the clinic, how will you get back out here?"

"I'll manage."

He was less likely to draw attention driving my truck than hitchhiking, stealing a vehicle, or riding his fae horse down the highway. Grunting my permission, I grabbed my mug and gulped down my coffee.

A few minutes later, my old truck was speeding down Cedar Drive toward Coquitlam, Zak in the passenger seat and Ríkr sulking on the floor behind my seat in feline form. It was that or sit on Zak's lap. The druid and I discussed our incomprehensible collection of information again, but we were just going in circles. The killer was probably a fae. That was all we had.

My vet clinic was part of a small strip mall on the west side of Coquitlam. I warily scanned the parking lot for signs of lurking MPD agents, but the only vehicles belonged to the staff. Pulling up in the front, I left the keys in the ignition and instructed Zak on where to park when he returned.

As the clinic door swung shut, I realized Ríkr hadn't followed me inside. Had he stayed in the truck to snoop on the druid? I wished he'd stayed, just in case MagiPol made an appearance later.

"Morning, Saber!" Kaitlynn greeted brightly. "Missed you yesterday. Not feeling well?"

It took me a moment to pull up my cheery smile. The expression felt more fake than usual. "No, I had a family emergency, but everything is under control now."

"Oh." Her expression softened with sympathy. "Glad to hear it's nothing too serious."

"A family emergency?" Nicolette appeared from the back hall, her hair done in a neat bun and makeup thick on her face. She stared at me as though waiting for me to elaborate.

"Good morning, Nicolette," I said warmly. "You look good today."

"Thanks," she muttered as I passed her, heading for the staff room.

Falling into my usual routine was difficult, and I twitched every time the clinic door jingled. Would the MPD show up here? They didn't like making a scene in front of humans, who had no idea that magic or magical police existed.

My morning disappeared in a fast-paced blur as I dove into my first task—prepping a young female cat for a spay. I monitored her throughout the surgery, got her into recovery, then rushed straight into anesthetizing a big, leggy Great Dane puppy and shaving his belly for a foreign body surgery to remove half a teddy bear he'd eaten.

With my stomach complaining about how long it'd been since dinner last night, I hurriedly cleaned the surgery room and scrubbed the instruments down, my last task before my lunch break. Voices rumbled through the wall, coming from the reception area, and I hoped my one o'clock nail-trim appointment wasn't early.

The door behind me burst open, and Kaitlynn hung in the threshold, her eyes wide. "Saber!"

Tension slammed through me. "What?"

She leaned farther in and lowered her voice to an emphatic hush. "Who is the absolutely divine male specimen asking for you at reception?"

I blinked.

"He's gorgeous. Gorgeous. Are you dating him? Can I date him?"

My brow furrowed. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"For that man, I could very quickly not have a boyfriend."

Frown deepening, I set my bottle of disinfectant on the counter and followed her down the short hall. Together, we peeked around the corner into the rectangular reception area.

Nicolette, two other techs, and one of the female vets were crammed behind the long counter, smiling like idiots. Nicolette and the vet had flushed cheeks.

Zak waited near the door. He wore the same sleeveless black shirt and jeans he'd slept in, and if his dark hair had been combed, it'd been with his fingers—but his rumpled, slightly disreputable air wasn't affecting the women's opinions of him.

Well, at least it wasn't an MPD agent.

I stepped out of the hall. He turned to me, his green eyes arresting in their intensity, and I felt the women's gazes swing toward me as well. Acutely aware of my audience, I forced my scowl into a welcoming smile as I walked over to him.

His eyebrows shifted upward at my warm expression.

"Hi!" I greeted him. Unless I whispered, there was no way my voice wouldn't carry across the room. The others weren't even pretending not to listen in. "Get your errands done?"

"Yeah." He held out my keys, and I took them, still smiling. His eyebrows crept even higher, and I felt a muted rush of heat in my cheeks. I'd been playing "nice" Saber for years, and this was the first time I'd felt stupid doing it.

"Wasn't sure if you needed lunch," he added, lifting his hand. A white grocery bag hung from his fingers. "Hopefully there's something in here you'll like."

My smile slipped with surprise, and I hesitated before taking the bag. "Uh… thanks."

"I'll be back later tonight," he murmured, his gaze flicking to our audience. He didn't ask if he could spend the night again, but I heard the question.

"Okay," I said, hitching my bright smile back into place. "See you later."

His eyebrows rose again, their movement corresponding to my level of cheeriness—the more chipper I was, the more dubious he looked.

He abruptly leaned in close. His warm breath stirred my hair over my ear as he whispered, "Am I the sole recipient of your real temper, then? Not sure if I'm flattered or disappointed."

"Go fuck yourself," I whispered back in a sugary tone.

He laughed as he straightened. "That's more like it. See you tonight."

Holding my "nice Saber" smile in place had never been so difficult as he crossed to the door. I watched through the large front windows as he strode through the parking lot to the street.

Behind me, female sighs filled the reception.

"Saber, Saber," Hailey, one of the techs, chanted reverently. "Spill the beans. Please. I'm dying here."

I turned to her. "Sorry?"

"Where did you find him and how long have you been together?" She pretended to swoon. "Oh man. So rugged and, like…"

"Bad boy, except he's all man," Kaitlynn finished, appearing from the hallway. "So? What's his name?"

"He—he's not my, uh, partner." I struggled to pull my thoughts together. "He's… a volunteer at the rescue."

They all knew I was a longtime volunteer of Hearts Hooves Animal Rescue. I waited for their curiosity to evaporate.

"Not your man yet," the vet laughed. "He's all eyes for you, hon. And that kiss on the cheek may have been chaste, but it was a lot more than friendly."

"He didn't—"

Hailey fanned herself. "If you aren't sure about him, I volunteer to take him for a test ride. Several test rides."

The others laughed.

My smile had fallen away and I couldn't bring it back. "He's not a rollercoaster."

Hailey froze. "Huh?"

"Would you like it if a man came in here and talked about you like that?" I snapped.

The five women stared at me.

"Sorry," Hailey said quietly, her amusement gone. "I was just joking."

"It's not funny." I swept to the exit. "I'm going for lunch."

The door swung shut behind me, and I stood on the sidewalk for a moment before marching away from the clinic. At the far end of the strip mall, a tiny patch of grass surrounded one lonely tree. I sank down, using the trunk as a backrest, and closed my eyes.

In my four years at the vet clinic, I'd never broken character, but one visit from Zak had me lashing out over pointless banter about a good-looking man. How much damage had I done to my reputation as a cheerful, good-natured helper?

I exhaled slowly. As I relaxed against the tree, a discordant twist of energy rubbed across my senses. Man-made structures, concrete, pollution. They stifled and contaminated natural energies. It's the reason fae rarely ventured into cities.

Eyes opening, I started humming, a gentle tune that reminded me of green meadows and soft, warm breezes. The tree's welcoming shade sheltered me from the noon sun as I opened the plastic bag and peered inside. A vegan salad full of veggies and nuts, a ham and cheese sandwich, and a cup of broccoli cream soup, all from a nearby grocery store.

Saving the soup since I had no way to warm it up, I ate the sandwich and salad. It was a better lunch than I would've picked out for myself.

As I scooped vinaigrette-coated nuts from the bottom of the salad container, a white sparrow landed on my knee, snagged a cashew, and gulped it down.

A fascinating encounter,Ríkr declared, fluffing his feathers.

"What did Zak get up to?" I asked.

He went to the shop where you often purchase items for hiking, and to the grocer. He also refilled the fuel in your truck.

Why was a notorious rogue with a million-dollar bounty on his head so damn considerate? It was bewildering.

"That doesn't sound fascinating," I muttered.

It wasn't. The encounter at your clinic is what fascinates me.He fluttered down to the grass and transformed into a cat. After peering at the lonely tree behind me in an oddly critical way, his piercing blue eyes turned to my face. What do you think of the druid, Saber? Your true thoughts.

"He's… not what I expected." I stirred the last few nuts around with my plastic fork. "I suspect I haven't seen his full power yet. He's more dangerous than he lets on, but he's also… not…"

Not evil. Not heartless. Not unnecessarily violent—at least, not that I'd seen. He genuinely cared about the deaths of wildlife and fae, and he'd gone out of his way to protect me without asking for anything in return.

How did a man like that end up with a one-point-three-million-dollar bounty on his head?

"I think there's another side to him," I finally said. "So far, I've seen the Crystal Druid, but he's also called the Ghost—and that's the alias that earned all the charges against him."

Ríkr's tail lashed from side to side. That's my clever dove.

Snorting quietly, I shook my head. "Were you worried I was going soft on him?"

I was concerned a deceptive and alluring manipulator was spinning a hidden web that you could not perceive.

Packing my recyclables into the grocery bag with my uneaten soup, I rose to my feet. I couldn't be sure whether Zak was spinning webs, but I did know there was much more to the Crystal Druid for me to unveil.

* * *

The clinic was closed and the others had gone home for the night. One vet remained, completing paperwork in her office, while I finished the last of the cleaning. No MPD agents had made an appearance, and I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing. They were in the area. Maybe they were collecting more evidence before arresting me.

I didn't dare hope they lacked sufficient evidence to arrest me.

My thoughts all afternoon had fluctuated between MagiPol paranoia and pointless analysis of Zak and his true nature, whatever that might be. It hadn't helped that every time I'd walked into a room, the other techs had been whispering about "Saber's hot boyfriend."

Hot. Gorgeous. Rugged. Hunk. Man-candy. All words they'd been tossing around.

I chewed my lower lip as I tidied up the cleaning supplies. They weren't wrong. His features were striking. Beautiful even, and he exuded a magnetism that was difficult to explain. Plus, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with a commanding physical presence almost as strong as his druidic aura.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Grateful for the distraction, I pulled it out, glanced at the caller ID, and answered, "Hi Dominique."

"Saber." She sounded troubled. "You know how you asked about the necropsy for Harvey Whitby's palomino?"

I shut the storage room door, enclosing myself inside. "Yes."

"The vet doing it called me. He was tracking down the new owner of Harvey's other horses."

"He was? Why?"

"He'd just finished the necropsy, and…" She gulped as though to steady herself. "He said the horse's heart was… gone."

Adrenaline spiked in my blood.

"The vet opened the horse up, and the coronary arteries and veins just… ‘shriveled up to nothing,' is what he said. The heart was missing entirely. But that—that's impossible." She laughed shrilly, then cut herself off with a cough. "He swears the horse's chest cavity was intact, with no damage or anything that would suggest the heart had been removed."

I stared at the wall, seeing the small herd of dead bucks in my mind's eye. Seeing Arla slumped over her desk.

"The vet wants me to bring the other two horses in for chest x-rays. He's theorizing about some sort of crazy new virus that attacks heart tissue, but he probably just messed up the necropsy somehow. Maybe he missed a wound or… something."

How could an experienced vet fail to notice a wound large enough to extract ten pounds of muscle and arteries from the horse's chest?

"Anyway," she said weakly, "thought I'd fill you in since you were asking about it. Were you expecting something like this?"

"No." My voice was almost as thin as hers. "I wasn't expecting this at all."

A short pause. "Will you be home in time for dinner? Greta is making maultaschen dumplings."

A shimmering flash of white in my peripheral vision. Feline-form Ríkr trotted through the closed door, probably sensing my distress. His gaze lifted questioningly.

"I can't," I replied, my voice hoarsening. "There's something I need to do this evening."

"All right. I'll save you some, so just grab it out of the fridge when you get home."

"Thanks. By the way, did those men in suits come back today?"

"No, no one was here except Colby for a few hours."

"Okay. See you later, Dominique."

"Take care, Saber."

I disconnected the call and my arm fell to my side. My pulse thudded in my ears, blood rushing. Dread roiled through me, wavering dangerously close to outright fear.

Saber?Ríkr prompted.

"The killer is stealing hearts," I whispered. "The palomino's heart was gone. That's how all the animals and fae have died."

He was silent for a moment, then concluded, And that is how Arla died.

"Yes, and the MPD knows it. That's why they're investigating… and that's why they haven't tried to interview me yet. They think I killed her with some kind of dark, heart-vanishing magic, and they'd don't want to set me off. Maybe they missed me on purpose yesterday."

They are dancing around you,Ríkr mused. Keeping you in their sights without cornering you.

How could the MPD be so na?ve as to think a witch could wield magic capable of stealing someone's heart from their chest without inflicting a wound? That wasn't the kind of magic fae gifted to anyone.

Was there any way to prove my innocence? How long until the agents moved against me? Zak and I still had no clues, no strong leads.

But we knew the killer had targeted Arla. Had she known something significant enough for them to consider her a threat? If she had, I needed to know what.

Lifting my phone again, I pulled up the new listing in my contacts called "CD." Crystal Druid. We'd exchanged numbers before he'd taken my truck, and I was now glad we had. He was back out on the forested slopes of Mount Burke, searching for more clues, and he needed to know what we were dealing with sooner rather than later. I typed a brief message.

I found out how the palomino died. The killer is definitely a fae. Contact me as soon as you have reception.

I hit send, stuffed my phone in my pocket, then paused. Jaw tightening, I yanked my phone back out, typed two more words, and sent them before I could overthink it.

Be careful.

Jamming my phone into my pocket again, I swept out of the storage room, Ríkr trotting at my heels. We had no time to waste.