Page 17 of Magic & Secrets
Their beauty also gained the attention of several human males. Without thinking, I growled full of territorial dominance and drew every gaze on the street to me. A desire to kill rushed through my veins, turning me overly hostile toward the harmless humans.
The warriors stopped and glanced back as if I were making a scene. Calla’s gaze warmed, and I spotted a smile forming on her delicate face. Again, Mina bumped her distracted sister. They began walking again while I chose to keep my distance.
The warriors stopped at the stables and stroked the three black horses tied out front. I heard them make arrangements for the animals’ overnight care. I was relieved to learn they weren’t planning to escape when my back was turned.
After the females moved to a nearby inn, I ducked inside a tailor shop.
“I need pants,” I announced to the older human man inside. “But I do not have money.”
“Of course not,” he replied. “Where would you keep it?”
Allowing a smile, I said, “True, but I still need pants.”
“What are you?”
“Does it matter?”
The human lifted his gaze to meet mine and insisted, “I don’t serve certain populations.”
“I am a Bane Shifter,” I growled, feeling judged.
The human stepped back and muttered, “No.”
“Yes.”
Curious now, the short, round human inched closer and studied me. “We thought your kind were all gone.”
“We didn’t go extinct, just retired from battle.”
The man’s curiosity shifted to concern. “Why are you here?”
“We were hunting feral Shifters near this outpost.”
“Are they dead now?”
“Of course. What use would I have for pants if I were still hunting?”
“True,” he said and went to his fabric. “If you need it quick, it won’t be fancy.”
“I need to cover up enough to avoid offending the female persuasion.”
Returning with a measuring tape, he suggested, “If you tell the women what you are, I suspect they’ll stop gawking.”
“My concern isn’t your fellow townsfolk. There are warriors in the mix.”
“What kind?”
“Half Elven.”
The tailor flashed me a strange look. “Not many halflings in these parts.”
“They aren’t from here. The feral Shifters also brought them to this place.”
Wary of magic folk stirring up danger near his home, he peered out the front window of the small shop. “But those troublemaking creatures are dead now, you say?”
“Unless they can regenerate their heads, they’re dead.”
“Good,” he said with a dark tone. “We’ve had enough trouble over the years. The world isn’t as predictable since your kind retired.”
