Page 13 of Changelings
The growl in Balar’s chest turned to a purr, and he tried to smile.
“Whatthe hellsis going on?” Imogen demanded.
“Get him—off!” the man wheezed.
Imogen looked between the struggling man and Balar with horror, apparently unsure what to do.
No matter. Balar would see to this.
Opening his jaw, he let the man fall unceremoniously to the ground in a heap. He landed with a satisfyingthud.
Balar spat out the taste of the man’s sweat and fear. Wipinghis mouth, he stepped over the vermin to approach Imogen. Hand over his heart, he assured her, “Forgive the surprise,ul-lu. I caught this man lurking around your home.”
Imogen’s face darkened with a glower that she turned on the man. “I told you to stay off my land.”
Staggering to his feet, the man made an ugly hacking sound before spitting on the grass. He turned his own glare onto Imogen, which earned him a warning growl from Balar.
“I came for what’s mine,” said the man. “I know you took them.”
“You’re damn right I did. I warned you I’d take any traps I found.”
“Those aremyproperty,mykills,” the man sneered. “You got no right, girlie.”
“I most certainly do. Especially when those traps are onmyland.”
“There’s been free hunting rights in this forest for generations!”
“I’ve told you before, Dermott—if you’re so sure you’ll win, take it to Dundúran.”
The man, Dermott, soured, his lips thinning. He said nothing.
Imogen nodded in triumph. “That’s what I thought. Now get off my land.”
Dermott scoffed. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, girlie. Mark me.”
Although he turned to leave, Balar was quicker. Grabbing the man by the throat, he lifted him into the air to hold in front of his flashing fangs.
“Ack!”
“You threaten her again, and it’s me you’ll answer to,utun.”
The man paled, and Balar relished the fear in his eyes.That’s it, gabal. Know when you are bested.
“Let him go,” Imogen sighed.
Balar did—eventually, and after another growling warning for good measure.
When Dermott was finally put back on his feet, he wasted no time scuttling away into the trees. Balar tracked him as long as he could, ears perked for any treachery.
Finally, when the meadow returned to peace, he felt a cold nose press on his hand.
He smiled down at the curious black dog and patted him between his tall ears. “That was a very good show of force,rusa. You came out on the offensive.”
When he glanced up at the dog’s mistress, it was to find Imogen glowering now at him. He might’ve been more concerned, had she not crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her ample bosom. The enticing contours that gesture created had him so distracted, he hardly heard her demanding, “And what areyoudoing here?”
Perking, Balar straightened and reached into his inner pocket to carefully extract the feather. With it, he placed his hand over his heart again.
“Again, please forgive all the surprises. And for how you first found me. I promise, I have a fine cabin I normally sleep in.”
