CHAPTER SIX
Misty surveyed the wreck of her store without being able to feel much. She’d built the shop with nothing but a little savings, a start-up grant for women in small business, and a bit of know-how.
Her father had been great at starting businesses. He’d absolutely sucked at keeping the businesses going after a week or two, because his get-rich-quick plans never worked out. But it had been so much fun for Misty and Paul to help him out. When the three of them had been together, working, planning, and dreaming, they couldn’t be stopped.
Dad had never succeeded, and had died in an accident when Misty had been a senior in high school. Misty had learned from him, though, how to get a business up and running. She’d chosen a flower shop because people bought flowers when they wanted to make other people happy or cheer them up. Misty had had enough unhappiness shoved at her in her lifetime that she wanted a career that would take her away from that.
She’d discovered selling flowers was not as easy as it seemed, but she’d researched, worked hard, and got lucky when this strip mall had a small slot to fill. Her shop didn’t make millions, but Misty made a living, and she liked what she was doing. Now that Paul had his parole, he worked for her, doing deliveries and running errands, and he was enjoying it.
Misty had labored so hard for this business, and one person with a grudge had ruined it in the space of a morning. She might have to close, not just until she cleaned up the store, but for good. She’d had to cancel the orders for today that hadn’t already been on the van, and she’d probably have to cancel the rest of the orders for the month and return her customers’ money. One of Diego’s security team had taken the shop’s van, the only thing intact, out to make the remaining deliveries so Paul could stay safely in Shiftertown.
Misty knew she owed Diego and his guys for all their help. Graham too, even more so. She and Paul would have been dead today if it hadn’t been for Graham.
Xavier Escobar had driven her down to the store and come in with her. “What a mess,” he said, looking around. “At least we got the bastards who did this.”
Misty nodded, her throat tight. “I really appreciate you taking care of Paul. If something had happened to him . . .”
“It wouldn’t have been your fault,” Xavier said quickly, putting a warm hand on her shoulder. “Guys like Flores think they own the world and everyone in it. They need to be taught they don’t.” He chuckled. “It’s kind of fun to teach them.”
Xav was such a nice guy, in a hard don’t-mess-with-me kind of way. He too was a former cop, and had started DX Security with Diego to help people who couldn’t otherwise find help, which Misty could respect.
“We can have a team in here to clean up right away,” Xav said. “Make the place good as new.”
Misty shook her head and moved away from him. “Insurance assessment first. That’s why I pay for it.”
“Okay, but if they start being a pain in the ass about it, you call me. I know people, Iona’s family runs a construction company, Shifters like to build things . . .”
He leaned against the one clear spot on the counter as he spoke. Xav had brown black hair, dark brown eyes, liquid dark skin, and a square, handsome face. A hot man on a hot day. Why couldn’t Misty fall for someone like him?
But no, she had to have a soft spot for a crazy wolf Shifter with a growling voice and a piercing gray stare. She shivered as she thought about that stare when she’d closed the door on him. But Misty had needed to be alone, to think, to worry about why Graham had been so enraged at her, why he’d said such things to her. And why was she so thirsty?
“Any more water left?”
Xavier looked into the little cooler he’d brought with him. “You drank the last one.”
No problem. She’d go across to the convenience store. Misty was out the door and halfway across the parking lot before Xavier could follow.
At the convenience store, Misty nodded a hello to Pedro at the cash register then went straight to the drink refrigerators and started taking out bottles of water. If she was this dehydrated, she thought dimly, she should grab some Gatorade or something. But no, she wanted water. Buckets of it.
“Hey,” a voice said beside her.
Misty looked up, her arms full of blissfully cool and moist bottles, to see the hiker from the desert. He was still in his hiking gear, a little more sweaty and dirty than before, and he was reaching for water too.
“You made it back,” he said.
Obvious, since Misty was standing right there. “Yeah. We made it. What happened to you? I thought you were right behind me, and then you weren’t.”
The hiker shrugged. “Took a different trail. Didn’t see you. When I looked for you, you were gone, so I figured you’d caught a ride.”
Misty nodded. “Friends came and picked us up.”
“Good.” He plucked a bottle out of the fridge and smiled at her.
The smile was odd. His teeth weren’t exactly pointed, but they didn’t look right either. His hair, tousled and sweat soaked, covered his head to his neck. When his hair wasn’t dirty, it would be very light blond, almost white.
“See ya,” he said, and turned his lanky body to move to the cash register.
Misty took yet another bottle from the fridge and wished she’d thought to grab a handbasket. By the time she struggled up to the register, the hiker was gone.
“What are the odds?” she asked.
“What?” Pedro looked at her blankly, pausing as he rang up her purchase.
Misty realized she’d said the words out loud. “What are the odds that a guy I met out in the desert turns up at this convenience store? How many are in this city—say, thirty? More than that? But he comes to the one right next to my shop.”
“Maybe he likes you,” Pedro said, counting out her change.
“And followed me? Creepy. Did you see what kind of car he has?”
“Nope. Didn’t see him get into a car at all. Or anything.” He handed Misty the change. “Sorry about your store. Did they get the guys who did it?”
“Yes. They’ve been arrested.”
“Thank God. That was fast. I worked at a store that was robbed seven times, and no one ever found anyone. Cops were all over your place though.”
Misty didn’t bother to mention the role Shifters had in taking down Flores and his little gang. She wasn’t sure which way Pedro leaned on Shifters.
“Thanks, Pedro. See you.”
Pedro said a cordial good-bye and turned to his next customer. Misty drank half a bottle of water walking back to her store, where Xavier met her and escorted her back inside.
“You shouldn’t stay here,” Xav said as Misty looked around at her ruined store again.
“I need to . . .” She stopped, and couldn’t finish.
Misty felt Xav’s warm arm around her. “I’ll give you a ride back home. Our guys will watch over this place better than any security camera or cops on patrol. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
One of the “guys” he talked about was Shane, a bear Shifter who lived next door to Eric, who now grinned at her from the back and gave her a wave. Misty had never seen Shane shift into a bear, a grizzly, but his bulk at the door did make her feel better. Sam Flores and men like him would never get past Shane.
Misty gave Xav a smile and turned away, gathering up the cash from her register and safe to take to the bank. Flores had been so intent on his revenge on Paul he hadn’t bothered to rob her.
One bunch of roses in her cooler had survived intact. Misty found a vase for them, and then Xavier helped her carry everything out to his truck, got her inside, drove her to the bank, and then home.
“Thanks, Xavier. Lindsay is lucky to have you.”
Xavier gave a laugh as he followed Misty out of the truck and into her house, the vase under his arm. “Lindsay and I have fun, but she can take me or leave me. She goes out with other guys, and I learned a while ago either to be fine with it or stop seeing her at all.”
Misty knew he wasn’t wrong. Lindsay had told Misty that she wasn’t ready to settle down yet and look for a mate. She was only fifty, for the Goddess’s sake, she’d said, laughing. She had a lot of wild oats to sow, and female Shifters could sow some serious oats.
“Sorry about that,” Misty said.
Xavier shrugged. “We’re both young. I give her space, and she gives me space. Maybe one day . . .”
“Well, she should take what she’s got while she can.”
Misty headed for the kitchen and laid the roses on the counter, scarlet heads resting on paper towels. She took the vase from Xavier and started running water into it.
Cool, flowing water, reminding her of the water in the cave. Sweet, burbling, enticing water. Misty had wanted to strip off her clothes and dive her hot body into the pool, except the hiker had been there.
Truly weird how he’d happened to show up at the convenience store where she was. Made her shiver. Misty was grateful for Xavier’s presence and reassurance.
“You’re sweet,” Xavier said, as Misty lifted the dripping vase to more paper towels on the counter.
“Hmm?” she asked absently, snipping the last inch or so from the roses’ stems. “For what?”
“For what you said about Lindsay. Graham should appreciate you better.”
“I dumped him,” Misty said.
Xav blinked. “You what?”
“I said, I dumped him.” Misty tore off low-hanging leaves with more force than necessary and stuck the roses into the vase. “I’m tired of him assuming I’ll be there for him whenever he wants.” She jabbed the stems in. “He expects me to be waiting, as though I don’t exist when he isn’t around. But I have a life. If he doesn’t want me in his, then fine.” She stuck in the last rose, cleaned up the mess, and carried the vase to a table in the hall. The roses filled the space with bright color and fragrance.
Xavier followed her. “I guess I get that.”
“I mean, it’s not like we have a sex life or anything. I don’t know what Graham finds wrong about me, but he’s not interested.”
“Not interested?” Xavier looked Misty up and down with flattering interest. “Is he insane?”
“You know what it is to be a human around Shifters. I liked Graham as soon as I saw him, but he drives me crazy. What is wrong with me? I’m pretty sure he backs off me because I’m not Shifter. I bet that’s why Lindsay keeps it cool with you too.”
Xavier started to shake his head, and ended up shrugging. “Yeah, I figured that.”
“Look at us. We’re both two perfectly nice people. Why are we hanging around waiting on Shifters instead of finding other perfectly nice humans to be with? We’re no better than the Shifter groupies.”
Xav let out another laugh. “Are you sure you’ve only been drinking water?”
“Very sure. But I’m still thirsty. I must have gotten seriously dehydrated. I’ll start on the booze as soon as I feel better.”
“Why don’t you drink some more water and lie down or something?” Xav said. “I’ll be here, standing guard, so you don’t have to worry about anything. You had an ordeal.”
Misty sighed. “See? I’m right—you are sweet. Lindsay doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
Xav actually started to blush. Misty went around him and back to the fridge to grab a bottle of water with electrolytes. On the way out of the kitchen, she paused next to Xavier, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.
“That’s dangerous,” Xav said in a low voice.
Misty walked away from him, opened the bottle, and gulped down a third of the water on her way to the bedroom.
She fell asleep very quickly. She tried to think about Xav’s handsome face, but it was instantly blotted out by Graham’s hard, intense stare, and then she was asleep and dreaming.
? ? ?
Misty thought she was back in the huge cave she’d found. Water burbled in the middle of it, this time in an ornate, gigantic fountain that flowed into a river of water. Flowers and vines snaked around the fountain, up the rock walls, across the floor. These flowers shouldn’t be thriving, not out here. Desert flowers could be gorgeous, but these were from a hothouse garden—large puffs of white hyacinths, climbing yellow roses, and red and pink dots of sweet william, mixed with tropical flowers like bird-of-paradise. Everything was beautiful in a bizarre kind of way.
Misty’s mouth went drier than ever as she gazed at the fountain. She needed that water.
Come. Drink.
The hiker stood near the fountain. He was no longer the scruffy, dirt-stained, sweaty man who’d talked to her in the desert and the convenience store. His face was clean, sharp, and his hair, white blond, flowed to his waist in a long, straight wave. Some women would kill for hair like that.
Misty couldn’t see what the hiker wore now, but whatever it was shimmered and caught the light.
“Come,” the hiker said again. His voice was deeper than when she’d first heard it, the vowels long, consonants soft. “Rest. Slake your thirst.”
Misty licked her lips, finding them dry and cracked, her mouth parched.
“Drink,” the hiker whispered.
Misty took a step forward. Then she stopped. Everything inside her screamed at her not to go near that fountain, as enticing as it was.
The hiker spoke again, his voice smooth and coaxing. “The Shifter is dying. Take him the water. It is the only thing that will save him.”
What Shifter? Then Misty saw Graham lying on the ground, flowering vines encircling him. His face was wan, blood coated his bare torso, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. He opened wolf gray eyes and stared right at her.
“Misty.” The word was faint, scratchy, Graham’s voice nowhere near as rich as the hiker’s. “Help me.”
“Only the water will cure him,” the hiker said. “Take it.”
He reached into the fountain then lifted his hand and let droplets trickle back into the river with a silvery sound. Misty’s thirst jumped higher.
No, something inside her pleaded. Don’t.
But this was only a dream. It didn’t matter what she did in a dream, did it?
“Misty,” Graham said again. “Please help me, love. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
Misty froze again, staring at Graham. He looked back at her, sorrow in his eyes.
Now she knew it was a dream. Because no way in hell would Graham ever say in a cultured tone, Please help me, love. I’m so sorry I hurt you.
The dream Graham blinked, scowled, and took a deep breath. “Don’t listen to the bastard. He’s tricking you. He thinks humans are easy.” He sounded much more like himself—gruff, gravelly, impatient.
The hiker’s voice rose to drown out Graham’s. “He needs the water. He will die. Would you let him die to assuage your pride? Save him, Misty.”
No, she wouldn’t let Graham die. All she had to do, at least in the dream, was take him a drink of that water.
Misty started forward. One little scoop, and Graham would feel better. Then the dream would go away, and she could sleep in peace.
A growl made her halt. The growl wasn’t huge and fierce, like Graham’s, but small, childish, and insistent. And at her feet.
Misty looked down. Two wolf cubs stared back up at her. Their muzzles were fuzzy, their eyes big, their ears perked. Both bared little wolf teeth in full snarls. When they grew up, those snarls would be frightening; right now, they were tiny but unceasing.
Misty had met these two before, Matt and Kyle, orphaned twins who lived in Shiftertown. They could shift into twin three-year-old boys, but they liked to stay in wolf form, better for running around and playing, they’d once explained.
“Where’d you two come from?” Misty asked.
Both cubs wagged their tails, but when Misty tried to step past them, they got in front of her again, little bodies vibrating with their growls.
“Leave them,” the hiker said. “They don’t understand.”
One of the cubs, Kyle or Matt—she could never tell them apart—turned to the hiker, planted his little feet, and howled at him. The hiker hissed and pointed his finger at Kyle . . . or Matt.
Misty didn’t like the pointing finger. She expected lightning or something to come out of it, and since this was a dream, it probably could.
Misty leapt between the hiker and the cubs. “Don’t even think about hurting them,” she shouted. “And get the hell out of my dream.”
The hiker started for her. Matt and Kyle were going insane, trying to move around her to attack. Misty put her arms out in an attempt to protect them and Graham behind them.
“Leave the Shifters alone!”
The hiss turned to a snarl, a cold, nasty sound, and then all Misty could feel was ice. It coated the flowers and killed them instantly, then started toward Graham.
Misty snatched up the cubs under her arms—these little squirming guys were heavy. She flung herself and them on top of Graham, trying to shield him from the creeping ice.
“Hey, I’m starting to like this dream,” Graham said, his voice still too weak.
Kyle and Matt wriggled out of Misty’s grasp. Tails moving fast, they licked Graham’s face. “Shit,” he said, screwing his eyes shut. “Now I’m hating it again.”
Kyle and Matt raised their heads and began growling anew. Misty looked up, and screamed.
The fountain had turned into a wave of ice, and now it was coming for them. The ice rose, frost white but with blackness in the center. It dove straight for them. Misty scooped Kyle and Matt underneath her, and stretched out on Graham’s hard body. Graham’s arms came around her, warm, strong, and caring.
The black wave washed over them, engulfing them, sucking them down into hideous darkness.
Misty screamed again and jumped awake.
Two men stood at the foot of her bed. One was Xavier. The other was Reid, tall and tight-bodied, like the hiker, but with dark hair instead of white blond. He had the same kind of eyes though, dark and mind-sucking, staring straight through her.
Misty yelped again and grabbed at the blankets. In her mad scramble, she tangled herself up, overbalanced, and rolled straight off the bed and onto the floor.