4. Bobble

four

Bobble

Sometimes, I cannot help that I am a cat.

Well, I suppose that isn't totally true. I can control whether I am literally a cat or not. But those feline instincts never quite go away, no matter how I look.

Leaving Sunder and Mira isn't something that I do because I'm dissatisfied. I'm happy to lie with them in a pile of limbs and soft moans for as long as possible. The developments in our relationship have been…

Well.

I am happy.

Although I am filled with contented joy when the three of us are together, I suddenly awaken with a jolt. If I had been a cat, my whiskers would have twitched.

Something isn't right.

I slip from where I'm sandwiched in between Sunder and Mira and shift soundlessly in a muted flash of yellow, careful not to wake them. Our bond has made me so much stronger, and shifting between my two shapes is easier than before. Where I used to be stuck as a cat, I'm now able to move fluidly between my two forms as easily as I might breathe.

It's nice.

I really enjoy it.

There are so many advantages to being a cat. I can spy silently on almost anyone. No one suspects a cat; even among the varied communities of Illuemera, a cat is basically a background feature. Nothing to worry about. As long as they don't catch my scent, that is.

It's how I found this room, which is supposed to be reserved for Sunder and me, anyway.

Sort of.

I glance back at them tangled in each other's grasp over my shoulder and sigh contentedly before slipping out the open window. I'm happy here.

With Mira.

And Sunder, new as that is.

I'd do anything to protect them, which is why I'm out of my warm, cozy bed, prowling the streets of this town at an hour that is considered ungodly in any world.

My whiskers twitch as a faint aroma catches my nose. People don't realize since everyone thinks of dogs as having amazing noses, but cats have just as good of a sense of smell. We just don't use it on command, or to support humans, who simply have the worst noses I've ever witnessed. I take a minute longer to sample the air, my mouth open as I fully take in the scent.

But then I snap it shut against the awful odor. It's familiar, and I work to place it.

The smell seems like it's fine, but in reality it's quite rotten; there's an overlay of flowery magic so potent that it makes my eyes water, but underneath I can tell that it's rotten to the core.

It smells like…

My eyes widen. Yurghen?

Fear rises in my chest, but that's not possible.

Yurghen is dead. I saw the aftermath with my own eyes. Mira used Chroma and pummeled him to smithereens. He's dead, he's gone, and he's never coming back.

The air shifts again, and there's no doubt in my mind this time.

That is definitely Yurghen's smell.

I pause, ready to sprint back and wake Mira and Sunder.

But curiosity gets the best of me. Instead, I turn toward where that stench is coming from.

We're two kingdoms away from Yurghen's tower. I know because, despite what Mira teases me about, I really have a fantastic sense of direction.

I catch my reflection in a glass plane window of a toy store. This is a nice town. It's small, and I don't know its name. But names don't really matter, anyway. There hasn't previously been much evil sorcerer activity here. It smells too clean, despite the obvious criminal activity in the area regarding the illegal human imports.

I shake my head to clear it. Right, yes. The smell.

What the hell is something that smells like Yurghen doing here?

Cautiously, I chase after it.

The town's winding streets pass by me as I follow the scent where it twists and writhes through the air. The heavy darkness is still as I continue forward. This is the type of town where people go to bed at a wholesome time. They wake up and work at their wholesome jobs, and they go home to their wholesome families.

A scent like this has no business here.

I pad gently, sampling the air and the street to find the scent, until I reach the very edge of the town. It disappears into something that looks like an abandoned warehouse, half the bricks knocked out of one wall, clearly repurposed for another structure elsewhere. They've boarded up the holes with wood that one hard kick would go straight through.

In the human world, scary warehouses would have been a solid bet for nefarious deeds.

Here, it looks like they might make candles. There's wax scattered on the ground, and a sign hangs from the side of the building that's advertising the different scents the candles can come in. The perfumes of rose, oud, and a dozen other herbs that would, in fact, make a nice candle.

I wonder if they sell them. I bet Mira would…

Focus!

I need to find out what the hell smells like Yurghen. Sniffing the ground, I creep forward on silent paws and wiggle underneath one of the rotten boards.

It's dark inside, no moonlight or streetlamps to light the way. Waiting for my vision to adjust, I peer around cautiously, noting the barrels of wax and lovely herbals waiting to be made into candles.

Maybe if I just look at the brand, then I could find it again…

A figure stirs in the shadows.

I stand completely still, my heart racing.

It's a fae.

Whoever this is, he looks like a human's vision of Dracula. Dark hair frames his pale face. Cheekbones that could cut glass and a jaw that's angular like Sunder's. However, where Sunder is Captain America, this guy is much more Loki. A well-dressed, manicured Loki. He looks like a snake, coiled in the darkness. I shake my head, willing the memories of hours spent lying in Mira's lap watching Marvel movies to float away.

Is he the one who brought the Yurghen smell in?

I don't think he's noticed me. He's fiddling with some things on a workbench that are up too high for me to see. He's tall; I'll give him that. I guess he's handsome too, in a sort of dangerous-sexy way.

I'm not so dense that I can't see that. I press myself low against the ground and crawl forward. He's moving around between benches. Is he making the candles? No, he can't be doing that. He strides purposefully away, and I freeze.

Where did he go?

My feet make no noise as I sneak forward. I put one paw up, then another. The Yurghen smell is powerful now. Large leather-bound tomes are piled on one table. Is that where it's coming from? Is he…

A hand grabs me, and I'm ripped upward and into the air. I shriek, hissing and spitting as I twist. The hand adjusts and his grip on the scruff of my neck firms.

One of the unfortunate things about being a cat is that there are sometimes nerves that can be hit in the neck, the ones a mother cat would use to discipline her kittens, which make us…. Well.

I go limp.

I'm staring into that handsome face in a second, and my eyes are wide as I take in this other fae. His verdant eyes glitter with amusement. And his scent is somehow familiar now. It hits me like a shudder, attempting to flow through my limp body. The reason I felt pulled to this place.

"The Third Shard."

It's a statement, almost an introduction, as if he's presenting me to a small dinner party of his close friends. Was he expecting me to be here? I hiss violently, twisting as I attempt to scratch his eyes out. He grips my neck harder and shakes.

"That's a lot of attitude for a little cat," he murmurs even as he whips me around. I can't take it. I flood myself with Chroma, writhing out of his grasp as I transform into a fae. Standing to my full height, I glare down at this male. My burly size lends itself nicely to intimidation.

Unfortunately, he nearly meets me eye to eye. Silver lining? He's not swinging, so I don't have to fight. I hate fighting.

The air between us sparks with Chroma as we glare. My honey yellow dances around me while his is a dark, purplish color, somewhere between mulberry and raisin. It almost looks black in the dark, which sends a shiver down my spine. Black Chroma. A hueless magic, granted by no Gods at all. Very dangerous. Very evil, only for the most broken souls.

But no, it's definitely purple, I assure myself.

His green eyes dance, contrasting beautifully with his indigo magic as it pulses around him like the shadows themselves move and twist with him. They're so green they could be called a dark emerald, but the light filtering in from the abandoned warehouse paints them with a jade sheen. As he shifts, the beams catch and reflect off his piercing gaze, leaving me mesmerized by the intensity of his verdant irises.

They narrow as if unsure why I'm staring at him so intently. Shit. I blink, clearing the trance, and he snorts. "I see your curse has been broken. How long did it take you to figure that one out? Too bad you haven't figured out clothing."

His disdain for me is palpable.

But I can feel it, the pull to him. My stomach sinks. Nostrils flaring, I take in his scent again. Yes, there it is. Under the rotten Yurghen wrongness.

"You're a Shard," I sputter out, taking a step back in awe.

His lips curl into a cruel smirk as his hands move to cross his chest. "You are a bright one."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I note that he's making fun of me, but I don't care right now. This isn't right. Why does a Shard smell like that?

"No…" my voice trembles. I'm eying the exits, trying to find a way out. I'm sure that if I just find another hole, I can…

There.

There's something that I can slip through as a cat. It's a hole in the wall that would lead straight to the alleyway. I'm not sure how fast he is, but I'm willing to bet I'm faster. I hope I am, anyway.

He chuckles and my attention snaps back. "No, you aren't bright? Well, I suppose I should trust your judgment about your own capabilities."

I gulp. I have a terrible feeling about this guy. The stranger steps forward. His lips pull back in a fully wicked grin that makes me feel like he's mocking me and planning my demise all at once.

"I'm Tairyn," he says through those too-straight teeth. "I'm the Second. Although I really hate this numbering system. Don't you?"

Fear hits me like a battering ram. The way he talks, so casual and full of mirth. Like he's laughing at a world he hates. Like when Mira would hate-watch Gilmore Girls. The difference, I think, is that she liked it as much as she hated it. I don't get the impression he likes much of anything.

I don't know what's wrong with him, but he isn't our Second. Inside my mind, I reach for my well of Chroma and transform back into my tabby cat form. I don't hesitate. I don't try to hurt him.

I just run.

Whoever he is, he can't be the Second Shard. Even though Sunder and I had some rough days, we've always sort of gotten along. I could always sense that he was safe, and that eventually, he'd come around and be kind to Mira.

I get no sense of that from this Tairyn guy.

He smells wrong.

Maybe he's doing his own research projects. Maybe he's been corrupted by some of Yurghen's magic. Whatever happened to him, it fucked him up.

Sprinting for the hole behind me, deep laughter makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I wiggle through into the alley. I don't stop running until I reach the inn.

Mira and Sunder need to move.

We need to leave immediately.

My mind races.

I can't let this guy find them.

I can't explain it. It's just an innate instinct. But that's one perk of being a cat–I may not know the specific threat, but I can always sense when danger is near. Right now, every one of my senses is screaming that I need to keep Tairyn away from the people I love.

If he finds them…

I think that would be very, very bad.