Bound by Blood (An Anya Maynard Novel)

Chapter Two

   I popped around Julie with wide eyes, expecting to see some ten-story monster in my parking lot. But as her arm shot out to stop me before I could get in front of her all I saw was two…Scottie dogs? barking like crazy at each other…and one of the holy bushes that lined the diner’s parking lot in flames, though that Hank seemed to have under control with calculated bursts of white foam.

   Really I could have pushed around her if I wanted too but I wouldn’t belittle her efforts. She wasn’t much taller than me though her build was thicker. She wasn’t heavy by any means. Werewolves as a whole are more likely to suffer from anorexia than obesity with our high metabolisms. And there was nothing manly about Julie either, with curves any man would die to run their hands over-not that she preferred men- and soft brown hair framing that impish face she certainly didn’t look tough. But threaten anyone she cares about and she’ll show you that dark side.

   She was the one who took out my would-be assassin with her teeth thus earning her the position of my guardian…and then rolled in his blood turning that pretty honey colored coat of hers bronze.

   “Those aren’t dragons,” Jess- who was able to jog freely up to the pair of leashed dogs because she didn’t have a body guard-grumbled to Julie before she knelt down beside Shelia, who was already petting the dogs in attempts to calm them down, “are they?” she looked up and asked their owners, one who looked as if she wanted to start barking at the other just like her pet was.

   I didn’t know the woman, but I knew the boy on the left from around town. And if I remembered correctly- which even I wouldn’t put money on- then he was either the nephew or the cousin of one of the lift workers from Loon Mountain. Either way he was from one of the human families which had me wondering what he was doing with something capable of the deceptive shroud of magic the fae called a glamour. How did I know both “dogs” were wearing one? If you looked close enough you could tell their leashes weren’t attached to their collars but seemed as if they were emanating from somewhere in their fur.

   “No,” the woman on the left quipped, “they’re fire lizards.”

   I looked around to see the expressions of the crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk. Not that I recognized all of the faces, but as nobody gasped at the mention of mythical creatures than I just as well assumed they were from around here, or at least regulars to the area privy to truth about who-or rather what- lived here.

   Well then that explained why Shelia had come running out. As Steve once told me, Shelia was one of a race called the elementals, spirits of the earth that over time had developed a consciousness and later form that allowed her to exist among the population. She wasn’t born, she just…was. Most take decades to be able to blend in with the human world, but they are there. It’s not a physical appearance problem like many of the Fae like the gnomes or the nymphs have, they don’t need any magical shrouds or glamours to hide their appearance from the world, it’s the way they think. Those who choose to take human forms and not say…an animal; well they have a problem adjusting to normal social activity. They’ll always seem a little off in conversation, very distractible, very absent minded.

   Shelia’s element? Fire.

   She could have put out the fire herself but instead turned her attention to the source of the destruction. And I was completely grateful for that. But, this was why Jess had called me outside too. To mediate.

   I took a deep breath and nodded to Julie to step aside, “okay, whose pet torched my holly bush?”

   “It was his,” lady on the left pointed a long red nail at the boy who was looking quite sheepish, remorseful even from beneath that Red Sox cap.