One True Mate: Shifter's Solace (Kindle Worlds Novella)(14)

The Chief nodded slowly. “Show me,” he said.

And it was true. The room showed every sign that Ivy had simply got up, got dressed, tidied up as best she could, and quietly left the firehouse without saying goodbye.

Except…

The Chief stooped and retrieved something from the floor. He held it out to Rory between two fingers.

Rory took the square of card and stared at it. The vanishing property manager. The one who didn’t answer her phone, and whose business address was a misprint or a mistake…or, he thought with sudden realization, just a lie.

The one who’d known that Ivy would be alone at her mom’s shop that night; that if the building caught fire, there’d be nobody to hear her screams for help.

He scrunched the card violently in his fist. Someone had heard her, though. He’d heard her. Heard his One True Mate inside his head. And he’d find her wherever they’d taken her.

*

Ivy wondered if Rory would find the card. She wondered what help it would be if he did. After all, the address and phone number were fake, so probably the name was too. But it was the only thing she’d been able to do as the chloroform had taken effect and her vision had closed in – let the card flutter to the floor under the couch and hope Ms. Renard wouldn’t notice as she folded the blankets with brisk efficiency before she lifted Ivy over her shoulder. Ivy certainly hadn’t had the strength to cry out – she hadn’t even been able to move.

At the time it had seemed surreal and dreamlike, that the bony little woman would be able to carry her with such ease, but now she realized what an idiot she’d been – obviously Ms. Renard was shiften.

“What are you?” she asked now, as the car jounced along the potholed road. “Bear? Big cat? I bet you’re a wolven – you’ve always struck me as a bitch.” Her head was throbbing from the effects of the knock-out drug, and last night’s supper threatened to make a reappearance every time the car turned a corner. She was cuffed and her ankles were shackled, and she was as mad as hell.

Ms. Reynard gave her a poisonous look. “I’m a daughter of Khain,” she said. Something went cold in the pit of Ivy’s stomach. “We’re foxen.”

In the close confines of the car, even underneath the woman’s cloying perfume, Ivy could now catch a hint of that feral fur scent that had resurged in her vision as a warning. She couldn’t blame herself for not picking it up at the shop – the whole place had been full of musty, stale smells, and back then it would have held no significance for her anyway.

“The Chief didn’t say anything about foxen,” Ivy said. “Do the real shiften never ask you to play?” She made a mock-sad face, and Ms. Renard snarled – really snarled, her lip curling back and showing little white pointed teeth.

“Shut up,” she hissed, “or I’ll make you shut up.”

Ivy gave a pleasant laugh. “James Willett said that to me back in the children’s home when I was eleven,” she said. “I blacked both his eyes and knocked one of his teeth loose.”

She had, too. The little shit had been picking on the smaller kids.

Ms. Renard snorted contemptuously. “We’ll see how smart your mouth is when I turn you over to Khain,” she said.

But somehow, Ivy wasn’t afraid anymore – not as afraid as she should be. She was sad that Rory might think she’d snuck away in the middle of the night. She was fighting mad that Ms. Renard had been able to fool her so easily, and bewildered by all the weirdness that had entered her life unbidden.

But she knew on a deep, fundamental level that Rory would never stop looking for her – not even if they killed her. Because she was his One True Mate.

And that gave her a secret weapon Ms. Renard knew nothing about.





Chapter Twelve


Rory threw down the length of charred wood in disgust. “This is hopeless,” he growled. “I can smell foxen, all right, but what hope have we got of following a scent with these idiots getting under our feet?”

When they’d arrived at the blackened shell of The Antique Boutique, the KSRT had already been on the scene, sifting through the ashes for evidence of Khain’s presence.

The Chief laid a steadying hand on his shoulder. “They’ve got their job to do, just like we’ve got ours. Chances are we wouldn’t have found anything anyway – that call-out got pretty fraught.”

He didn’t say that Rory had gone full-on berserker trying to get back into the building to save Ivy and the sidewalk had turned into a battlefield, but Rory took the point anyway. Any scent evidence would be hopelessly confused.

He had no other leads, though. This was the only place he could be sure the shady property manager had been.

“Don’t give up hope,” the Chief began. “Wade Lombard’s boys are good at what they do. If anyone can find her—”

“Shut up,” Rory snapped.

The Chief cocked his head and gave a low, menacing warning growl. That was over the line no matter how upset Rory was – way over.

Rory waved his hands frantically. “I mean shut up, please, sir… I can hear her!”

…she’s a foxen, Ivy was saying in ruhi, inside his head. She’s taking me to Khain. Can you hear me, Rory?

He punched the air. “She’s alive!” he yelled to the rest of the squad, then frantically sent back, I can hear you. Where are you? Can you see any landmarks?