Page 29 of Shift of Morals (Shifter Lords #2)

Chapter

Nineteen

H azel got more aggressive with her efforts to figure out the magic corrupting the bouquet, and a few days later, she hit pay dirt.

We all stood around the table, a safe distance away from the thing that had taken up so much of our time and effort.

“You may need to call the customer and tell them you can’t salvage this thing,” Hazel said. “I’m about to unravel it.”

“I don’t think they ever expected it back at all,” Moira said. “They brought it here for Evie.”

“I’m in agreement.” Hazel stepped closer to the table, her hands held out. A ball of purple fire swirled between her palms.

The moment her magic touched the bouquet, powers rapidly fell from the main stem, decomposing into black goo. A foul smell poured forth. Moira gagged, and I breathed through my mouth, trying not to do the same.

Hazel touched each bloom, carefully moving toward the center. I watched in horror as she unveiled a small, glowing red orb in the heart of the bouquet. “Gotcha,” Hazel said softly.

She dropped her magic and wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm. “Want the good news first?”

“Is there good news?” I asked, staring in horror at the poor, suffering plant.

Hazel snorted. “This thing wasn’t meant to kill you.”

“That feels almost miraculous these days,” Moira said dryly, laughing when I nudged her with my elbow.

“Every time you’ve worked on it, the spell inside slowly siphoned your magic, destabilizing you even more than normal.” Hazel eyed me. “Have you felt off lately?”

I stared.

Hazel let out a soft chuckle. “Right. The thing also has a tracker. Your Chimera has known where you are from the first time you’ve touched it.”

That explained some things. “I’m not unpredictable with my whereabouts. Not really.”

“True,” Ash said. “If she’s not at work, she’s at home. The only anomaly is her deliveries.”

“Finn could have gotten to you at any time,” Moira said.

Tess stared at the bouquet, not saying anything, but her energy was off. Her slight frame quivered, and her eyes stayed fixed on the bouquet. Ash spotted me eyeing her and sidled closer.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Bad,” Tess said, her voice querulous. “Whoever made that is bad.”

“Yes, child,” Hazel agreed. “But we’re going to find them and make sure this never happens again.”

Tess didn’t respond, only kept her eyes locked on the bouquet.

“If you’re ready, I’m going to crack the spell,” Hazel said.

“Should we leave?” Ash asked.

“Not necessary. Now that I know it a little better, I should have no trouble containing any magical backlash.” Hazel sent out a simple spark of magic toward the center of the bouquet. A snap sounded in the air, followed by a violent crack, and a beam of magic sailed straight for me.

Before I could dodge, Hazel barked a command, and the red beam froze in mid-air.

Ash let out a low curse. My heart beat like a frightened rabbit. “Are you sure it’s not trying to kill me?” I said hoarsely.

Hazel shook her head. “That one was meant to trigger a transformation. Naughty Chimera.”

I moved out of its path just in case Hazel’s spell broke.

She snorted and slowly started dragging the magic in.

“I’ve got the shifter’s essence.” Once Hazel had the spell contained, she pulled out a small vial and took just a touch of that red glow from the middle, carefully corking the vial and tucking it into her pocket.

“Is it safe to send that by courier?” I asked.

“As long as we don’t get a curious one,” Hazel said.

“I’ll use one of our regulars. They know not to go poking around inside of our deliveries.” Still unnerved, I headed to the door, with the others behind me. Hazel lingered back, still poking at the bouquet.

“One of Hattie’s deliveries bit someone. That guy sweated blue for an entire week.” Tess grinned. The banshee always loved when our flora got out of hand.

“Call the courier and have him here soon. The essence won’t last very long.”

“I’ll do it now.” Eager to get away from that thing, I retreated to the front of the shop to make the call.

The courier was eager to make a buck and agreed to come by within half an hour. I shot Caelan a text.

Courier on the way to you. A strange bouquet we received for preservation is linked to one of your shifters.

Someone at the Keep was recently married, but there’s been no sign of the bride that we can tell.

Hazel extricated the shifter’s signature.

Take a look. I suspect something might be off with whomever this is. The magic feels off.

I said nothing about the bouquet being triggered to me or that Finn was entangled in the mess. My Chimera secret was still safe, and I’d do everything in my power to keep it that way.

His response, when it came, was short.

I’ll have our Keep mage take a look. Anything else I need to know?

Be careful. The magic has an attitude problem.

Much like our resident Floromancer? I’ll pass the warning along.

Funny wolf , I responded.

Caelan didn’t text back. Oddly disappointed, I tucked my phone into my pocket. Ash and the others were gathered around the coffee pot, fortifying for the day.

My thistle tattoo still burned against my arm, but this morning it was worse. I ran my fingers over the raised area where Finn had cut me, hissing when I found a tender spot.

All three of my friends stopped what they were doing. “Evie?” Moira inquired. “You alright?”

“Tender area,” I said with a smile. “I gotta stop poking things.”

“Bears especially,” Ash agreed.

“Evie has not met a bear she didn’t want to poke,” Tess added.

I laughed. “When did it become pick on Evie day?”

“Every day is pick on Evie day,” Moira said, sliding a mug of hot coffee over.

I took it gratefully. “Thanks.”

“We’re going to the back to come up with some seasonal marketing campaigns,” Ash said. “Things have been too busy, and our social media presence has suffered.”

Part of that thanks to the Shifter Lord.

“Make sure you announce that we’re working on an important wedding,” I said absentmindedly. Caelan hadn’t said anything about the most recent samples, so I don’t know if they were a hit or miss. I’d wait until he came back with something about the shifter before I nudged him about those.

The wedding was fast approaching, and we had to crank it into high gear if we were going to get everything finished before the day. And I still had to do the bonding ceremony flowers.

I made a mental note to text him later about both.

And whispered a prayer he’d allow me a little more leeway with the bonding ceremony flowers because the red and white candy cane hellscape that was this wedding was living in my head rent-free right now.

The shop fell silent, still too early to welcome in many customers. I sipped my coffee and enjoyed the silence, sending my senses through the shop to touch my plants and gently rouse them from rest.

It happened instinctively before I remembered everything that had gone wrong with my magic these last few weeks, and just as I jerked in remembrance, the plants responded, their gentle natures brushing against my mind.

Tears came to my eyes. My Floromancy was still there. Deeper yet unchanged.

My lips parted, and I exhaled, relief so profound it held me in a chokehold. If I had lost that part of my magic, I would have lost myself. Maybe forever.

I might be forever changed, but the most important thing was I was still me.

Still Evie.

I exhaled and whispered a thank you to the universe. Not the gods. Those guys were universally jerks, except perhaps for Cernunnos. The jury was still out on him. He was helpful, but no god was that helpful unless they had an ulterior motive.

But someone benign and maybe even good was out there listening. They had to be.

So I whispered my thank you to them.

Finn was playing the long game, and I wasn’t sure what kind of ending he wanted. Whatever it was, I would not go gentle into that good night. He’d have a hell of a fight on his hands if he kept antagonizing me. Getting over my fear of him had to come first, though.

Otherwise, I’d keep freezing up every time he came around.

The wind had picked up outside, so I walked over to the window to check the sky. Our town hadn’t had rain in several weeks now, and we were overdue for some moisture. But a chill ran down my spine as soon as I stepped outside to fix one of the signs that had gone wonky due to the wind.

Something was out there, and it was paying attention. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I turned.

A massive man stood across the street, and I knew right away he wasn’t human. Nor could anyone else see him.

He stood at least six five. Dark hair, dark eyes glowing with violet power. He wore black leather armor threaded with crimson runes. His tanned forearms were exposed, glowing with some of the same runes.

Our eyes locked. His face held no emotion, only a disturbing blankness, but his eyes were a different story. They burned with curiosity and interest.

“You must be Neit.”

A slow up-tilt of one side of his mouth, but he stayed silent.

I studied him, thinking Mom had great taste in men because damn, this guy was a looker, but he was dangerous. Deadly. Menace poured from his body as we watched each other. But he made no move to attack, only watched.

I jerked my arm over my shoulder. “I’m going back inside. It’s cold, and I didn’t put a cardigan on. If you’re going to kill me, can you do it away from the shop? I have friends in here, and they really hate cleaning up messes.”

No reaction from Neit’s corner.

“Alright then. See ya around.” I turned, my back prickling with his attention, and went inside, resisting the urge to lock the shop down like a military bunker.

“Second stalker. Cool.” With a sigh, I turned to look one more time, but the god was gone, his appearance almost like a figment of my imagination.

When would I stop being hunted?

Honestly. This was giving me a complex.