One Insatiable(19)

“Good morning!” I say, pulling out my chair and reaching for the white bowl of fluffy yellow eggs.

She blinks up at me and smiles. “Hello, dear. I heard you go out last night.”

Taking a large bite of savory bacon, I nod. “I went bowling with a girl from the gym.”

“Bowling!” Aunt Penny straightens, a smile teasing at the edges of her mouth. “We’ll just keep that between us. Was it fun?”

“It was,” I say, considering everything that happened. “I can’t remember the last time I bowled, but I seem to be a natural at it.”

“Of course you are,” she sips her coffee. “You’ve always been athletically gifted.”

I can’t help a little frown. “I’ve never participated in sports. How can you know that?”

“It’s in your genes.”

Her attention returns to the paper, and I reach for the carafe to pour myself a cup of coffee. When I got home last night, that presence was back. My insides were jumpy and unsettled, the same as last night. It wasn’t as strong, but it lingered in the yard.

“Did you have a visitor last night, Pen?” I lift the cup and take a small sip of the rich, dark blend.

“Hmm?” She tears her eyes away from the news to look at me.

“Last night? Did someone come to visit?”

“No…” Her brow lines, and I decide I must be losing it.

“Sorry. When I got home, it felt like someone had been here. Strange, like a presence I didn’t recognize.”

A shadow flickers across her face, and she hops out of her chair, going to the window. “I hate it when Dylan’s gone so long.”

I disagree with that sentiment, but I let it go. Penny’s far more attached to the notion of alpha-protector than I am, probably because she’s getting older. Bluish-purple jam is in a little pot to my left, and I spread it across a piece of toast.

The presence had troubled me when I got home, but before I went to bed, I looked out the window in case it was back. As I stood there, the most incredible sense of safety flooded my body. It was warm and secure, and I’d slept like a baby all night.

Tossing my napkin on the table, I quickly gulp the last of my coffee. “I’m going out for a hike.”

“Oh, be careful, Mercy.” Her eyes are still full of worry, but I’m happy remembering the warm sensation from last night.

“Don’t you worry about me.” I kiss her cheek. “I’m safe in our woods, and I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

She’s wringing her hands as I skip out the front door, headed across the lawn in the direction of the trees.



* * *





Koa


Sunlight blazes through my windows, forcing my eyes open. The air is crisp this morning, but I hear happy noises of breakfast preparation, doors opening and closing. The baby isn’t crying.

I’d left my post outside Mercy’s house as the first rays of dawn lifted the horizon and came straight to my apartment and crashed. Nothing unusual happened the rest of the night, and I spent the darkest hours intermittently dozing. I planned to head back out into those woods today and do more investigation.

It’s possible I was mistaken in what type of creature I sensed. It’s definitely not a shifter, but I’m out of practice when it comes to identifying rogue supernatural beings. The wave of unconsciousness it sent at me could be excused as self-defense, but I’m convinced it has bad intentions sneaking around Mercy’s window.

Thankfully, Andy gave me my partial check yesterday. I’ll sleep another hour then track down some place to get breakfast before heading into the woods. I’m just rolling over when a WHAM! hits my door with such force, I’m on my feet at shifter speed.

Moving quickly around the room, I grab my jeans and step into them, jerking them roughly over my hips.

WHAM! It happens again, and anger is building in my chest. If someone or some thing has followed me home looking for a fight, it’s about to be sorry. Reaching forward, I jerk open the door just as a ladies shoe flies past my head.

“Watch it!” I shout, dodging to the side. I barely avoid catching a slipper in the face.

A creaky voice barks up to me from below. “You up, Kona?”

Groaning, I rub a hand over my eyes. I’ve given up trying to correct my elderly landlady on saying my name right.

I look down to see her standing at the base of the stairs dressed in a compact green suit that makes her look like a Lego person. She has a pillbox hat on top of her puffy white bouffant hairdo and a brown ladies’ boot is in her hand. I can only assume she was about to throw it at my door.

“Do you need something from me?” I say, still half inside my apartment.

“I need you to come down here.” Her voice is a stern order.

With a deep exhale, I leave my apartment and jog down the stairs. Her grey eyebrows are pulled together tight as always, but when I stop in front of her, she relaxes a bit with her smile. She reaches a wrinkled hand out and pats my bare stomach, pinching my skin.

“To be sixty years younger,” she murmurs, and I don’t miss the twinkle in her eye.

“You said you needed something.”

She snaps out of whatever naughty old lady thoughts she’s having and the frown is back. “I need you to take me to church. It’s Sunday!”