Shift Happens(55)
You have a lot to learn, little Carus. The voice rasped in my head, foreign, but not unpleasant. The coyote nipped me on the ankle again. I managed a smaller jump, and avoided bashing my knee into the desk for a second time.
“Ummm.” I looked at O’Donnell. “Is your fera speaking to me?”
The old man smiled. “Why don’t you ask him?”
I looked down at the grinning little devil and tried to direct my thoughts at him. Are you speaking to me?
Of course, the fera said. It is one of the gifts Feradea bestowed on you. All feras can speak to you this way and you to them.
Huh. That was my intellectual response.
My name is Ma’ii. The old man calls me Ma.
Does that have some sort of special meaning?
It’s Navajo for coyote. The fera yawned.
Isn’t that a bit redundant?
Ma bit my ankle again as a response. Not enough to draw blood, but it hurt.
Ouch!
Use these direct consequences as a learning opportunity. He looked away and began to lick his hind leg.
I rubbed the tooth marks on my ankle and turned my attention back to O’Donnell. “I'm not sure I appreciate Ma’s form of guidance.”
The old man laughed. When he finally looked me in the eye, his smile was twice as wide. “I think we have all suffered enough teachings today. Is there anything in particular I can help you with?”
“Do you know much about Lucien’s court?”
He shook his head. “The basic hierarchy.”
“Do you know of any hordes in town?”
“There’s a few. Lucien’s court has an endless stream of envoys coming in and out. It’s a desirable area for Vampires. Long winters. A large port for easy access and travel.” He shrugged. “Is there any horde in particular you’re interested in?”
“I’m looking for one with ties to Wereleopards.”
O’Donnell frowned. “I don’t know of any offhand. I can look into it if you would like.”
“I would definitely like.” I shoved away from the computer and jabbed the off button with enough force that the contraption would have no excuse for misunderstanding my disappointment and anger with it.
The old man’s eyes crinkled as we both stood up. I glanced down at my bite-ridden ankle with dismay. Being fast to heal, it no longer throbbed with pain, but my previously smooth and unblemished skin was now riddled with tiny, itchy scabs.
“I want to know more.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.
O’Donnell nodded. “In time. First, you must get out of your current predicament. When you are ready, you will need all your attention to focus within.”
“In the meantime, start praying and apologizing to the Feradea?”
The old man grunted. “You’re learning.”
****
My phone beeped on my drive back. Wick had given me the far-too-advanced-piece-of-technology in the morning. Apparently everyone under Lucien’s control possessed one—the Vampire treated his minions well and recently supplied the entire pack the latest contraption on the market with everyone’s phone numbers preprogrammed into it. Mine had been on back order, and now that I had it, I’d been ignoring suggestive texts from Clint all morning. There had to be a way to block someone, but I hadn’t figured it out yet. More elaborate than my old paperweight flip phone, it took a while to get used to it.
I waited until the next red light to glance at my phone. Wick! A law now existed against using your cell phone while driving and it made sense. A lot of people got into accidents because they took their eyes off the road. I risked the fine and read the text message.
Where are you?
I glanced up at the light and saw it was still red. I texted back: Omw from SRD now. May take a bit. I wasn’t the most text savvy person out there, but I had recently learned that “omw” stood for “on my way.” I tried to use it as often as possible to sound more hip—not sure if I fooled anyone.
My phone beeped again, but I ignored it. The horns honking behind me encouraged me to be a safe driver. At the next light, I looked over at my phone and read Wick’s text: Why?
I need caffeine. Going to stop at the gas station.
For the cocaine?
What? I texted: What?
Read your last message.
So I did. Instead of “caffeine” I’d texted “cocaine.” Damn autocorrect. I waited until the next stop light to text: OMG! I meant caffeine, Wick!
Well I hope the SRD isn’t tapping your phone.
Laughing alone in my car I took the exit to the nearest gas station, and unfortunately for me, the one with the slowest cashier in the Lower Mainland. Carrying two bags of medium roast random blend coffee in one hand and a bag of strawberry-flavored licorice in the other, I made sure my posture indicated how put out I was for waiting. It went unnoticed.