The six days until the full moon seemed to disappear in a mere moment and before I knew it, I was on the back of Reece’s bike on our way to pack land. Arlo and Killian were with us, on their own bikes and looking every bit the bad boy bikers they were.
We rode in silence, tense from the ongoing arguments about this mission to visit Papa Cocodril. It wasn't so much visiting the magicked gator that was an issue for my Lords. It was that they couldn't be present.
“This is foolish, cher,” Reece muttered as we pulled to a stop on the border between Hunt land and pack land. Rafe himself had come to meet us, along with Amelie and Marcel.
“This is necessary, Reece,” I replied with firm authority in my voice. Over the past week, she and I had been meshing more and more to the point now where our voices had blended into something halfway between our individual pitches.
Without bothering to argue the issue further with him, I swung my leg off his bike and ran a hand through my windswept hair. It was so much longer than I remembered my hair had been, and was taking some getting used to.
“Keeper,” Rafe greeted me, his bloodred eyes burning under the bright moonlight.
“Rafe,” I replied, a small smile curving the corners of my mouth. I couldn't help it. Something about the wolves, or this wolf, made me happy.
“Raphael,” Reece snapped, climbing off his bike and coming to stand beside me. His arm snaked around my waist and he held my hip in a decidedly possessive manner. “We would like to ask permission to enter pack land.”
Behind me, I felt Kill and Arlo climb from their bikes and take up positions around me, like the Knights they were.
“Denied,” Rafe replied without a moment's hesitation, then he held out a hand to me. “Keeper? The night won't last forever and you have a hard task ahead of you.”
Giving Rafe a short nod of understanding, I peeled Reece's fingers from my hip and turned to face him.
“Reece. Relax. The wolves have no reason to hurt me. They want the Veil restored just as much as we do.” I raised myself up on tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on his tight lips.
Releasing Reece, I turned and did the same to both Killian and Arlo.
Of course, Arlo wouldn't let me off with the quick peck I'd given the other two and seized my hair, demanding entry into my mouth and kissing the shit out of me. Clearly, he was putting on a show of dominance for the wolves, but hell. Who was I to complain?
“My Lords,” I purred in a voice that was far sexier than I'd intended thanks to Arlo's kiss, “wait for me.”
Flipping my green-streaked hair over my shoulder, I turned my back on the three of them and crossed the invisible line between territories. The second my foot touched tarmac on the wolf side, a smile curved across Rafe's face that sent a shiver of anticipation through me.
Whatever he was up to, it wasn't of totally pure intentions.
I'd lied to my Lords—apparently, I was the only fae who could lie—when I'd said the wolves had no ulterior motives for this. I'd felt it on their words every time they spoke of this quest, but nothing they'd said had been an outright untruth so for now I was content to let it play out.
“Hey girl,” Amelie greeted me, the beads in her braids clinking together as she hip-bumped me on my way past her. “Ready for a swim with the gators?”
“Of course,” I smiled back at her. Maybe she was the reason I liked the wolves so much? She'd spent most of the past week with us, only returning to her alpha a few hours ago, and I really wanted to say we'd become friends. Whatever that meant.
Sketchy memories or not, I knew I'd never had close girlfriends in the past as either Ciarah or the Veil Keeper.
“You can ride with me if you want?” she offered. “But it is totally time you made those boys get you a bike of your own. You're our damn goddess—you should not be riding bitch to any man.”
“She rides with me, Amelie,” Rafe ordered in a voice like smoke and shadows. To me, he nodded his head respectfully. “If that is acceptable to you, Veil Keeper?”
“Ciarah,” I corrected him, for some reason not liking such a formal title from this impressive man, “and that is fine. It's not that far, I understand?”
The silver-haired man just cocked his head to one side, then repeated my name.
“Ciarah,” he murmured, and the sound of my name on his lips made me shiver. “No, it’s not far.”
Marcel, the caramel-skinned man with eyes as black as death made a noise under his breath that sounded oddly like disgust, before climbing onto his own bike and revving the engine.
“Let's go, Boss. We're wasting moonlight.” His voice was low—angry—and I made a note to keep a close eye on him. Something … something wasn't feeling right with him.
But there were more pressing issues at hand, such as finding Papa Cocodril in the Louisiana Bayou and convincing him to hand over the key to my memories. Or, to part of them anyway.
This is going to be a long road.
The sound of frogs and crickets echoed through the still night as I stood on the mossy dock, looking out over the bayou water. The moon was full and round, bathing the whole scene in a cool silver glow better than any artificial light could ever provide, and in a word, it was magical.
“Peaceful, no?” Rafe murmured, standing slightly behind me but close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body.
“It's beautiful,” I sighed, not wanting to dive in and disrupt the glass-like surface of the water.
“You going in fully-dressed?” he asked, and I could hear the edge of amusement in his voice.
“You know,” I said, as I touched a hand to the white tank I was wearing, buried beneath a leather trench coat I'd stolen from Killian's closet, “back in the day, in human times, they'd swim in outfits baggier than this.” I stripped the trench off and threw it to the mossy ground.
The tank was ribbed, and tight, and just barely thick enough to hide the circles of my nipples. I was finding I wasn't a particular fan of bras. And with the Veil Keeper's magic, I could go without as much as I wanted and never have to worry about sagging breasts.
In the right light though, and with my nipples pebbled from the cool breeze coming off the water, I figured Rafe could probably see them through the fabric.
“In Victorian times, they basically wore dresses into the water, with leggings underneath.” I put my palms flat on the hips of my skintight leather pants. “So perhaps I am going in fully-dressed? My suit would be more revealing than anything humans would've worn a hundred years ago.”
Rafe snorted and looked me up and down, already shrugging out of his own coat and reaching over one shoulder to tear his tee over his head.