Page 14 of Moonlit Alexandrite

Chapter Eight

Ren

“Yeah, I’ll come pick him up. Thanks, Stone.” I ended the call with Moonlit Falls Police Department and closed my laptop with a sigh, pretending it wasn’t a relief to get away from the monthly income reports for Flare. I loved numbers, and especially liked money, which my salamander saw as his treasure.

The unicorn who owned this place might feel differently about things if my guy ever tried to claim it, but Castor was a decent boss and understood that just because my other side wasn’t the size of a dragon, it didn’t mean he was any less protective of his assets. Flare made a killing, and while it was a popular place, a lot of its success was due to my savvy with finances.

Today, though, I had been distracted. This heavy pull started in my chest mid-morning, and I had found it difficult to concentrate on much else.

With a loud shriek, the chair slid from under me as I pushed to my feet and headed to the staff locker room for clothes. Tase never locked his shit up, so it was easy to see that while he had spray cans in varying colors, soda bottles, and... was that a bulk pack of Mentos? He didn’t have a fucking pair of pants. I resigned myself to lending out sweats that would probably be destroyed before I could ask for them back, then headed for the stairs.

My Volvo C30 T5 sat on the side of a quiet street about a block from Flare, her butter-colored body freshly washed and rims gleaming in the noonday sun. Safe and cost-effective. Perfect for ensuring I never have to worry about Newt while we’re traveling about town. I double-checked the trunk for extra towels, too familiar with the ritual of bailing Tase out of jail to assume he hadn’t been mid-prank, then headed across town.

I felt a chill fall over me as I pushed my way into the local precinct. The air conditioning unit mounted above the door was working overtime to keep out the summer heat. Personally, I thought it was a psychological tactic to make criminals mistake the cold for fear. Effective? Certainly not in Tase’s case, but maybe in others’.

Stone looked up from the counter, sliding the magazine he had been reading beneath a pile of reports. “Cute and cuddly,” I read with a smirk as Stone flushed and slammed his palm over the exposed corner.

“Not a fucking word, Ren. Your horse is out back.”

“I do not own him, I just clean up after him.” I held my hands up in protest. Stone grunted and led me through to the holding area where a grumpy kelpie sat in a towel.

“Huh.” Stone gave a surprised grunt as he stepped up to the cell door. “That wasn’t there before.” He looked from Tase, to me, and back again. There was something a little more pressing to worry about, though.

“Why the fuck are you green?!”

Tase groaned and got to his feet, the towel staying on the bench as he moved naked toward the door. From the waist down, his skin was a normal color. However, his hair, face, shoulders, and torso were a green that made him look like a swamp witch.

“Fucking Dash, the double-crossing dick. I was defending my honor after they so unjustly attacked me the other week.”

“You don’t even know who did that,” I tried to reason. Should have known better. His answer was a narrow glare and no thanks given, as I threw the sweatpants at him.

“I have my suspicions, and justice had to be done.”

I sighed in frustration. Most shifters found an accord with their animal. There was a give-and-take in the relationship whereby sometimes the human side ruled, and others the animal. Tase and his kelpie worked in complete harmony. There was no conflict in their relationship. Unfortunately, this also meant there were times when my friend was half wild and wholly unreasonable. This seemed to be one of them.

I wished, once again, that the selkies hadn’t tried to stake ownership on the shores of the loch Tase had claimed as his hunting grounds.

Damn selkies.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re imitating a half ripe banana, and can you please put them on so we can go?”

“I don’t like sweats,” he grumbled, but thankfully, stooped to pull them on. Once the pants were securely over his hips, he finally deigned to tell his story.

“So, Dash and I were setting up an epic prank, and had to bail out fast. Dash sent me out the back door, while he took the front. Splash, bang, the fucking thing was rigged.

“Anyway, my kelpie gets pissed and makes an appearance. I run halfway home before he runs out of steam and someone” — he cast an accusing look toward Stone who looked thoroughly unimpressed with his theatrics — “arrests me for ‘public indecency’.”

Even his air quotes were sarcastic. I huffed a laugh and pushed my idiot friend toward the front door.

“Thanks, Stone,” I called over my shoulder, receiving a wave in return as the door swung shut. Tase grimaced and rubbed his chest before stopping short, so abruptly I almost plowed him down.

“No, I’ll walk. I’m not getting in that thing,” he said and turned away.

I caught him by the arm and steered the stubborn critic back toward the vehicle.

“It’s a car, Tase. Get your ass inside. I gotta pick up Newt.”

“But it looks like a gender-neutral baby shower vomited all over a set of wheels. How do you even show your face while driving this thing?” he asked as he reluctantly dropped into the passenger seat, then slid further down so he couldn’t be seen through the window.

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