5. Davien

Chapter 5

Davien

I woke up late, thanks to the sleepless hours when all I could think of was Errol and Grams.

Stumbling into the kitchen, I made coffee, my eyes cracked open a little. Nothing made sense until I'd downed that first rush of caffeine.

I rested my head on a cupboard, waiting for the machine as it made noises like it was in pain. With a hot mug of coffee in my hand, I gulped that first mouthful. Nothing was as good as that, not the second or third gulp and not another cup or a brew at a coffee shop.

My taste buds reacted and my brain engaged, and I opened the back door and sat on the deck overlooking the back garden.

But though my right hand held the mug, my left which usually had my phone was empty. I wasn't expecting work calls, having finished a big project two days ago, and I had the week off.

Decisions, decisions. Did I stay where I was and enjoy the birdsong or did I wander into the bedroom and get the phone?

It was unlikely Errol had the money, so he couldn't have messaged. My departmental colleagues, like me, had a few days off, close friends knew better than to call just after I'd finished a project. I had no family to speak of, unless I counted distant cousins.

You have me .

I do . And thank gods for my beast. He got me through some tough times.

With the mug drained of coffee, I peered inside, considering whether it was too soon to make another.

Yes, unless we go for a run .

Too much caffeine affected my beast, and he needed to gallop it off. But that had to be planned, as humans wouldn't look the other way at a unicorn gallivanting around town.

We can go this afternoon.

I had to drive a ways outside the city. Not only did we have to avoid people but also wild animals. Wolves and bears might attack my beast, though he was speedy and could probably outrun them. But I didn't want to test that theory because of what had happened on my first ever shift.

Don't think about that , my beast insisted.

As I picked up the phone, a bird I didn't recognize landed on the windowsill. Birds fascinated my beast. They shared a love of sweet things, so they were often in the same place, nibbling fruit from a tree or bush.

It wasn't until I was making breakfast, a treat that I never had time for on a workday, that I looked at the phone. There were a couple of messages on the display but one stood out.

Errol!

A jolt of what felt like electricity rocked my body. The message was a little weird because Errol had repeated what he'd said last night, that he promised to pay me back. It was a little disappointing, not because he didn't have the money. Gods, it was less than twelve hours since I'd handed over the cash, so unless Julian had coughed up the money, Errol didn't have it.

And I didn't want him to borrow money just to pay me.

I was downhearted. A guy I'd just met texted saying he'd pay me the money he owed. I should be pleased he was so appreciative of what I'd done and eager to repay the debt.

But he wasn't just a stranger who owed me money. He was my mate, and I'd vowed to give him time before flipping his world on its head.

I need to run, and you have to clear your mind .

My unicorn never quite grasped the importance of money to people. He had all he needed; a safe space inside me and plenty of opportunities to take his skin. I almost wished we could change places and I could live a life of leisure and send my beast to the office.

Okay, a run it is .

But during the drive, I pondered Errol's response. We'd spoken a few hours earlier, so why did he feel the need to message me? I tried putting myself in his position. Sure, I would have been frantic, counting the days until I could pay back the money. And he had Grams to contend with.

Maybe… just maybe he sensed our connection.

I parked the car where I always did near orchards owned by a shifter family. They designated trees and a bunch of flowers especially planted for my beast, and I paid them a monthly fee. My unicorn wished he could roam around the forest, but I worried about prey. That first shift haunted me.

There was enough space for him to run after he'd eaten, as the rows of trees were far enough apart, but it wasn't the same as drinking from a stream or clamoring up a rugged hillside and enjoying the view.

View? Bah!

Okay, you don't care about the scenery. Got it .

Waving to the workers who were picking cherries closest to where I'd parked, I made my way to the farthest corner of the orchard and disrobed. Bunches of cherries were weighing down the branches, and in the next row, there were ripe mulberries. After I'd taken my skin, my lips would be stained purple.

Yum!

Giving my beast his horn and hooves, I let my mind wander, and it went straight to Errol, his grandmother, and whether I should reply to his text. If so, what should I say?

Okay was kinda bland and might come off as rude.

I know you will was a little presumptuous and could sound threatening.

Thanks was too offhand.

Ahhh! Mobile phones, rather than being a convenience, just added to the confusion of life.

I blocked out the squishy noises of my beast chomping on cherries and mulberries. There were some peaches that had ripened according to the orchard website, but my beast wasn't a fan.

Two hours passed because my unicorn wasn't a fast eater, preferring to relish his food. When he was done, he raced up and down the rows, the trees proving cover from any humans who were near the orchard.

This was the second day in a row my beast had shifted, but when I was in the middle of a project, I worked and slept, so I owed him plenty of hooves-and-horn time.

Can we do that again tomorrow?

The cherries were at their peak, and the bears would be hankering to break down the huge fence surrounding the orchard. The cherries would be gone soon, and my beast would be forced to eat other fruit and wild berries, that were not so wild. The orchard owner cultivated them for me and other herbivorous beasts.

I'll try .

A shower was the first thing I did on returning from a shift, but I made it a quick one. My unicorn may have eaten, but I was starving, so while the pasta was cooking, I wrote out messages to Errol and deleted each one.

I should ask about his grandmother, but I had to acknowledge his message first.

Thanks. I'm not worried about the money. How is Grams? I studied what I'd typed and wavered about whether to send it. Gods, when I was at work, I responded to tens of messages and rarely gave as much thought to my responses as I did to this one.

Before I could third, fourth, or fifth-guess myself, I hit send. Shit, the pasta had boiled over. Ewww. Now I had to clean up the mess. It gave me something to do for five minutes instead of thinking about the message.

The phone was quiet as I ate dinner, turned on the dishwasher, and sat down to watch TV with tea and cookies. But just as I was about to find out who the bad guy was, the phone beeped.

Grams is doing well. There's not much wrong with her other than being bored. She was in a bit of a mood. But thanks for asking .

I responded with Great!

What else could I say? Grams being in a mood and bored didn't correspond to what the cop was yelling at Errol last night. I suspected Errol was covering for Grams and she needed looking after, something he couldn't give her if he were short of both money and time. Working didn't allow anyone to be a full-time caregiver.

So he either couldn't work and that was why he couldn't come up with the bail money, or he left his grandmother alone for nine hours or more, and she wandered away, causing chaos.

What a dilemma. I might be way off base and Grams was acting like a petulant child who wanted attention.

Instinct told me that wasn't it, and I counted the days until the end of the month when Errol said he'd pay me back. I almost told him to forget it and consider it a gift, but his reaction last night suggested he'd be offended. And on a selfish note, that would be the end of our communication, and I didn't want that.

Besides, I had to meet Grams, the infamous grandmother whose life was entwined with Errol's, and get some alone time with my mate-to-be.

Damn, my tea was cold, and the program had finished and I didn't find out who did it.

Errol and his Grams were occupying my every thought.