Unknotted

As I entered the parking lot, my head was on a swivel. So far, so good.

Bruce was one of few vehicles there, as it was past the time that the early birds had breakfast, but before the late risers arrived. Bruce was a sexy truck, and the only “manly” thing I wanted in my life right now. He was charcoal gray, with a six-inch lift, a rack of flood lights, a massive winch-mounted grill guard, and full bed—currently full of wood and other supplies that I needed for my “day job.”

Sure, some might consider Bruce a little big for someone of my petite frame. To climb into the beast, I almost had to take a running start and jump, but I loved the way he roared when I turned him on. And he was useful, dependable, and never complained. I ran a hand over his glossy finish. “Sorry, Bruce. Didn’t mean to ditch you.”

Jik snorted, which, in his tiny stature, sounded little more than a mouse squeak. “Your relationship with your truck is unhealthy.”

“Say what you like,” I replied, sweeping my gaze around the parking lot. So far, no sign of trouble. Maybe no one had considered looking here for me. “Bruce makes me feel like a queen. What more could I ask for?”

I couldn’t quite tell because he was so small, but I thought Jik rolled his eyes.

“Stop judging me and wake Bruce up.” I set Jik on Bruce’s giant front tire. “No funny business either. You hurt Bruce and I hurt you.”

Jik chuckled and disappeared into the undercarriage. He would climb his way through the engine to the ignition. But that would take time. Hopefully someone had turned the keys into the restaurant’s management and Jik wouldn’t have to mess around with Bruce too much. For good reason, gremlins had a reputation for making mechanical things malfunction.

I leaned against Bruce’s grill guard as I waited for Peth to exit from the restaurant. It was already proving to be another hot summer day. The sun’s warmth and my exhaustion were making me sleepy. Before my eyelids drooped, I went to the back of the truck to toss my backpack in and check under the tarp. By the looks of it, nothing had been taken in the middle of the night. So, beside everything terrible that happened in the last day and a half, at least the poachers’ meeting hadn’t been in a sketchy part of town. No one had robbed my building supplies or, Core forbid, had stripped Bruce of anything important, like his shiny, special-order hubcaps.

A silver car whipped into the parking lot and slammed to a stop in front of Bruce. Harhort unfolded from the passenger seat, eyes gleaming with malice. “This your truck?”

“Ah…” I had been expecting Whiskers. For some reason, I had completely forgotten to consider that Harhort might be waiting too.

He nodded as if my fumbling response was an answer in the affirmative. “You were here the other night. Different face though. Hiding from your violent admirer, are we? I was worried business would keep me from returning in time to bump into you again.”

“Do I know you?” Yep, I was going to go with the play dumb tactic. I lurched back, bumping into the car parked beside Bruce.

“No, I don’t think you do.” He circled around his car toward me. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you in the diner reading that book.”

“Are you an R.F. Letcher fan?” I retreated another step. “Her books aren’t really my taste.”

“Not exactly.” Harhort’s grin sharpened. “I’m more interested in collecting things that intrigue me. And you, with the way the magic plays around you, you intrigued me.” Harhort stood in the space between Bruce and the neighboring car. “You don’t understand how very unique you are, do you?”

Every hair on my body was standing on end. Why, exactly, had reading a book in a diner drawn his attention so acutely? Or was it something I did during the parking lot brawl with Whiskers that had snagged it?

“That was quite the show you put on the other night though.” Another voice came from the rear of the truck, effectively blocking any retreat. Wanddy stood there, a boyish grin on his face. “I don’t think your new dominant friend takes rejection very well.”

Adrenalin tingled through my limbs.

Harhort stepped closer. I couldn’t retreat any farther without running right into Wanddy’s arms. Peth would have eagerly done that. Wanddy was her type after all, but he wasn’t mine and I wasn’t inclined to cuddle at the moment.

“Don’t worry, kitten. You won’t ever see that big bad lion again.”

From anyone else, those words would have been comforting. From Harhort, it chilled the blood in my veins. As far as I knew, there weren’t any potions that required lion organs, but with my beast form, I would still go for a pretty penny in the Shadow Markets—either to some wealthy dynamist’s menagerie or to one of the many “underground” colosseums found around the planet.

“Don’t be frightened,” Harhort said, his deep voice soothing. I found myself relaxing, my fear draining away. “That’s right, kitten. Come with me and all will be well.” His florescent eyes twinkled like stars trapped in a distant green space cloud. I found myself falling into those eyes, tumbling lazily through space. Carefree and willing to let gravity carry me wherever it chose to.

“I’m not afraid.” My voice sounded distant to my own ears.

Harhort’s hand gripped my bicep and he smiled down at me. Warmth spread through me at having pleased him. “That’s a good kitten.”

Wanddy yelped and a thud sounded behind me, breaking the trance.

“Hands off, creep.” Peth shoved me aside. My shoulder rammed painfully into Bruce, and I bit back a cry. Lunging past me, Peth drove her foot into Harhort’s side and kicked him to the ground.

Arms wrapped around me from behind. I rammed my elbow backward into Wanddy’s gut. To his credit, his hold didn’t break with the first hit. I stomped backward onto the toe of his boots, jammed my elbow back again, and reached across my body with and upward thrust of my palm. The heel of my hand slammed into Wanddy’s nose.

His hold broke. “Core between!”

Peth spun around and, with a forward checking kick to his stomach, threw Wanddy, his nose gushing blood, staggering back.

“Peth, my keys?” I tried the door handle. It was no use; I always made sure to lock Bruce.

“Sorry, hon,” Peth said, voice labored. “No ke—” Wanddy leapt onto her back, his arm wrapping around her throat, locking her head in a chokehold. He was scrappier than he looked.

I winched as Peth backed up and slammed against Bruce. Wanddy groaned as he was sandwiched, but he didn’t let go.

“Peth! Watch the truck!”

She gave me a you-can’t-be-serious glare or perhaps it only an are-you-just-going-to-stand-there look. Either way, to save Peth and Bruce, I darted forward.

Or tried to. Harhort tackled me from behind. I found myself lying on the gravel. Rocks cut sharply into my cheek, chin, and temple.

“Jik!” I shouted as Harhort pounced on top of me. His knees dug into my shoulder blades, pressing me harder into the gravel. More rocks cut into my arms and chest. “Jik, hurry!”

I probably should have left it to Peth to shout commands. When I spoke to him, he tended to do the exact opposite. For Peth though, it was smiles, blown kisses, and granted wishes. Unfortunately, with Wanddy’s chokehold turning Peth’s face a shade of purple to match her hair, I wasn’t going to be asking Jik for any favors soon. Her rocking Bruce in her attempts to shake Wanddy off her back had to be rattling Jik around like a lone penny in a piggie bank.

I wiggled beneath Harhort, but I couldn’t find purchase with my arms pinned beneath my body. His fingers dug into the hair at the base of my skull. He pulled, twisting my neck until I whimpered and met his eyes over my shoulder.

I made two mistakes, I realized. First, I should have shifted as soon as I had room to. Second, I met Harhort’s eyes. They gleamed like glowing pools of green water in the middle of a starless sky.

“There now,” Harhort said. “Just relax.”

The fight left my muscles, and my body grew heavy on the gravel.

“You’re going to come with me now, aren’t you?” Harhort said, a beautiful white smile filling his face.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. “Yes,” I whispered.