Page 5 of Shadowed Fate

"I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover," I muse, taking a sip of my coffee. Mrs. Hearn liking breeding kink was not on my bingo card. Maybe we should form our own book club, the three of us and our questionable taste in literature. “So what did you do?”

"I gave her a stack more of my favorites to take home in a discreet bag, of course!" She cackles.

I picture Mrs. Hearn scurrying home with her illicit literary cargo.

"You're terrible," I say, shaking my head.

"Terribly helpful, you mean," Fiona retorts, taking a bite of her cherry cake.

As we continue chatting, the sky outside darkens, streetlights flickering to life along Main Street.

Fiona glances at her watch, sighing dramatically. "Well, dear, as much as I'd love to stay and talk all night, these old bones need their rest." She reaches across the table, squeezing my hand with surprising strength. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. "Thanks, Fiona. For everything."

We step out into the chilly evening, the warmth of the cafe instantly replaced by a biting wind.

"Be careful walking home, Brigid.”

I nod, my hand instinctively slipping into my pocket to grip my little Swiss Army knife. "I will. Don't worry about me. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I was the thing people needed to be afraid of.”

Fiona raises an eyebrow. "Honey, I hate to break it to you, but people already are afraid of you."

I shrug. This isn’t news. But Fiona has it wrong. They’re afraid of something about me getting near them, of contaminating their perfect little lives.

"It's not a bad thing, necessarily. People fear what they don't understand. And you, my dear, are wonderfully incomprehensible."

We reach the corner where we part ways. Fiona pulls me into a tight hug, the books in her tote bag digging into my ribs.

As we separate, I watch her walk off towards her apartment. I turn towards the road that leads to my own home, the streetlights casting longer shadows.

In the distance, perched on a lamppost, I spot a familiar silhouette. A raven, its beady eyes fixed on me. Always watching.

I grip my knife tighter and start walking.

Chapter 3

Lochan

I shut the door behind me, and three pairs of eyes snap up. Callen lounges in an armchair, one eyebrow raised in question. Rory's sprawled on the couch, suddenly alert. Tiernan sits cross-legged by the window, his fingers paused mid-motion on a piece of parchment.

"Dean Charling just gave me orders. It's urgent." My voice comes out gruff, authoritative. "We need to retrieve someone. A girl."

Callen leans forward, interest sparking in his eyes. "A girl? Do tell, fearless leader. I love a good damsel in distress."

I clench my jaw. "This isn't a joke. The Dean stressed how critical this is. No fucking it up."

"Did he give any other details?" Tiernan asks.

I shake my head.

"That's all you've got to go on?" Rory asks, sitting up straighter. "Just 'retrieve a girl'?"

I nod. "The Dean was cryptic as fuck. Said we'd know her when we saw her."

Rory snorts. "Well, that's helpful."

I resist the urge to snap at him. "Look, I don't like going in blind either. But if the Dean says it's important, it’s important.”

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