Page 22 of Spies without a Face
We each took a sip. The tartness of the lemon mingled with the beer on my tongue. I sensed a hint of honey.
“Mmm,” Lucas praised. “Tastes like summer in a glass.” After he put the glass down, he said, “How did you find out you were a shifter?”
It seemed peculiar to talk about being a supernatural so openly in public, but Lucas didn’t appear at all concerned. In some of the closed-minded places I’d lived, people would have gathered their pitchforks if they suspected I was a shifter.
“It came out during an adrenaline burst when some guy attempted to rob me.”
“Whoa.” Lucas tapped his chin while his expression turned thoughtful. “Crazy stuff, man. How old were you?”
“Twenty-one. I don’t know what triggered it—anger, adrenaline, survival instinct, or all the above.”
He tapped the glass. “Intense emotions.” After a few moments, he added, “That must have been surreal. I always knew my father’s family were dragon shifters. I haven’t seen him since I was young, though.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I replied. “I never met my father.” I admitted. “He died before he even knew I existed.” I took a swig of my beer.
Lucas nodded with sympathy. “That sucks, man.”
“It does.” Although we had plenty of differences, it felt strangely comforting to meet someone else who had both human and shifter blood, like I wasn’t such an anomaly in the world.
“Is this why Pandora suggested we meet? Because of our similar backgrounds?”
“Most likely,” Lucas agreed. “She mentioned that you’re new here. I know many supernaturals ended up in Salem since we didn’t think we fit in with where we were. I moved around, doing a lot of soul searching, before I ended up living here.”
“And how has it been?”
When Marion stepped up to the table with the pretzel bites, a huge basket for each of us, my question lingered unanswered in the air.
“Hope you’re hungry.” She placed a basket in front of each of us, and the enticing aroma stirred my appetite.
“You know I always am.” Lucas rubbed his belly. “Thanks, Marion.” After she left, he picked up a small pretzel, covered with salt. “This one is mustard.” He pointed to one of the two silver containers. “And that one is cheese.” He dipped a pretzel bite into the mustard and popped it into his mouth. He moaned in appreciation. “So good.”
I picked up a pretzel, which was warm, and dipped it into the mustard container. The combination of salty dough and tangy mustard was delicious. I savored the flavors on my tongue but took a swig of the shandy to counter the salt.
Lucas gulped some of his as well. “What was I saying?” He glanced upward, tilting his head to the right. “Oh yes, getting settled here. Moving here was rough at first, the way it is whenever you start out anywhere as the new kid in town.” He widened his eyes. “My first winter in New England, experiencing a blizzard was jarring. My poor, cold dragon scales bracing against the frigid air.” He chuckled.
“I’ve lived in some cold places,” I noted. “Luckily, fur keeps me warm. And I tend to run hot.”
“Good ol’ shifter blood for you.” Lucas tapped his chest with two fingers. “Anyhoo, the Network helped me find a place to live with two roommates, a grumpy vampire and foody wolf shifter. Even though we were as different as can be—both with biological and personality differences, we’re brothers now. Family.” He raised his hand and crossed two fingers, indicating how tight they were.
Having a bond like that would be new. I’d floundered for so long, searching. Lucas seemed earnest, even though he just met me, but it made it easier to confide in him.
“It took years to learn about and accept my shifter blood. Now I’m almost thirty. I should know who I am and what I want by now, but I still don’t. I think it’s part of that identity crisis hitting me that messed me up.”
“That makes a lot of sense, Austin. Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out and find your place in this world. Besides, shifters don’t age like humans.”
True. That’s what my father’s side of the family taught me. “I tried living with my father’s family for a while to learn more about what it was like to be a bear shifter. Although it helped me understand, I couldn’t live there long term and left after six months.”
My cursed six-month mark.
“Why not?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up there in the mountains. I grew up in a suburb of Denver. Although it wasn’t far from the mountains, it was still a residential lifestyle. I love the outdoors, but for some reason it wasn’t right for me.”
Lucas murmured in acknowledgment. “Give Salem a chance. In the last few years, more shifters seem to be moving here. With more of us, the less different we are. Do you know what I mean?”
“I guess so.”
“Pretty soon, they’ll change the nickname from Witch City to Shifter City,” he joked.
