Page 11 of Moonlit Alexandrite

His comment surprised me. I hadn’t known that, but maybe Ren sensed something too.

My kind found our clan in paranormals that complimented other elements. Satyrs were of the earth, fire salamanders.... well, duh. Dion, Ren, and Newt were my family and always would be, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for one more, and my kelpie had decided. I trusted my kelpie. Fine, not completely, but I trusted him with this. The little succubus was ours. I just needed to convince the others.

“Big D. Come on now, one little coffee date won’t hurt. You were going to sample the drinks for cocktail ideas anyway, right? Just invite her along.” I was laying it on thick, wheedling, and pointedly ignoring the muttered complaints about douchebag nicknames. I knew he wouldn’t say no. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the carefully placed blond strands he thought looked unintentionally tousled. I knew how much product he used to achieve that look, so he wasn’t fooling anyone here.

“How much time did you spend with her, anyway?” Dion asked. I grinned and launched into the tale of the succubus who rode me. Yes, I named it that when I was introducing it. Yes, Dion called me a dickhead, tried to nail me in the nuts, and then listened to every detail.

“...and then we walked around and talked for a while. She’s actually pretty cool. I think you would really like her,” I finished, watching him expectantly. Sometimes I swore he was more stubborn than a gargoyle, and I knew a few of them around town, so that wasn’t just rhetoric.

The trick was to wait him out. I drummed a beat on my thigh, clicked my tongue, and tried to coolly look around the room, knowing he would crack, if for no other reason than to stop my feeble attempt at nonchalance.

“Only because I needed to go anyway, and maybe she can help me work out the liquor equivalents. Females are good at problem-solving, right?” he said, with a put-out sigh.

That girl was ours, I was just the only one smart enough to know it.

* * *

After the successof my proposal, I didn’t want to wait around for Dion to over analyze his decision. I sent a text to Dash that simply read ‘go time’, pulled on a pair of leather pants — screw wearing a shirt — and slipped out the door with a saccharine goodbye to piss Dion off and distract him from his fretting.

Dash was one of my many partners in crime strewn about Moonlit Falls. Mikey was my usual go-to for all things prank-related, but this one required a certain level of... finesse.

So, one of the local ex-cat burglars was my new best friend.

The fact that he was a co-worker at Flare, and legitimately a great guy, helped too.

I slipped quietly down the street with my black go-bag over one shoulder, softly whistling this sea-shanty tune that was currently going viral on Screech, the social media platform for paranormals.

Moonlit Falls was peaceful in the early hours of the morning, and while I kept an ear out in case Stone rolled by on his police bike, I enjoyed the quiet stroll.

I may have had occasion to become rather familiar with the local law enforcement due to both mine and my kelpie’s extracurricular activities. The fact they saw fit to canvas the loch with warning signs about my wilder half seemed less prohibitive and more of an outright challenge to me.

Speaking of... without missing a step, I swung my bag from my shoulder and checked the side pocket for my spray paint. I had noticed a new sign down by the jetty and intended to stop off on my way home and get creative.

It started with the hair rising on the back of my neck, a sixth sense warning I was being watched. As a balmy summer breeze blew my hair back over my shoulders, I subtly glanced around. No one was visible, but as I halted, I heard the slight scuff of a footstep. Casually as I could, I slid the bag from my shoulder to free my hands and flared my nostrils, wishing as I did, that I was in my kelpie form to have his extra olfactory acuity.

Bet you didn’t know horses had an excellent sense of smell.

I didn’t need him, however. The over-sweet combination of vanilla and sugar caused me to recoil with a sneeze. Only one person I knew wore that combination.

“Tammilyn?” I whispered in confusion.

“What are you doing?” Dash’s voice in my ear made me shout in surprise as he, very nearly, scared the literal shit out of me.

“What the hell, man?” I groused, punching him in the arm. He grinned, completely unrepentant. And while I would normally be upset that someone could get the jump on me, he was a cat burglar, and a cat shifter to boot. It was the whole reason I had called him in for this.

“Are we doing this?” he asked curiously, glancing over my shoulder in the direction I had been facing. I followed his gaze and found a whole lot of nothing. I shook my head to clear it.

“Yeah. Yeah, we need to get this done.”

He nodded his agreement and fell into step with me as I retrieved my bag and led him to the residence of a certain selkie with a hard-on for blue dye.

“Why are we hitting him again?” Dash asked as he pulled out his lock-pick kit.

“I was blue, Dash, completely blue.” I waved my hands up and down my body before gesturing to my crotch. “I looked like I escaped from an 80’s cartoon. The little guys, that all had the same girlfriend?” I couldn’t remember the stupid name, but with the incredulous look on Dash’s face, he wouldn’t have understood the reference, anyway.

“Riiiiiight,” he said as he turned back to the door and, with a flick of his wrist, gained us entrance. On silent feet, we moved to the kitchen and glued googly eyes to every item in the refrigerator. I sniggered in delight as they jiggled around at the movement of the door.

Next, we worked in sync, half-filling red solo cups and packing them tightly over the floor surrounding a king-size bed. The only noise in the house was the soft snoring of the bed’s occupant.

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