No, all he’d done was make an ass out of himself in front of Celeste, and obviously made her feel uncomfortable. But she’d suddenly beenso closeto him, and the scent that had risen from her hair had been just the same as he’d remembered from all those years ago – the same electricity had crackled over his skin at her proximity to him, as if he was more alive than he’d ever been just by standing near her.
If Mrs. Shelby hadn’t chosen that exact moment to burst into the studio, Hardwicke knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist taking her in his arms, kissing her, feeling her skin against his…
Hardwicke shook his head, trying to clear it. He couldn’t let his senses become fogged with lust – or anything else, for that matter – and he certainly didn’t want to put Celeste in any kind of awkward situation. The fact was, she’d ended things between them. He had no right to force his feelings on her, just because he’d never been able to get over them.
But then, no one just ‘gets over’ their mate. It’s not possible. And even if I’d ever believed it was, meeting Celeste again would have proved me completely wrong.
Hardwicke ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. But even without worrying about controlling himself around Celeste, he knew he also had other problems.
He hadn’t started with his investigations into the earth tremors at all – he’d barely even thought about them. He knew he had a reputation for efficiency, and that Lausten would be checking in with him soon in order to hear an update on his progress.
The work he’d told Celeste and Mrs. Shelby about hadn’t been a lie, at least, nor had what he’d said about it being important. What hereallyneeded to do was find a quiet place in order to shift into his pegasus form and then take a survey of the area, and use his pegasus senses to scout for any hubs of unusual activity.
All mythical shifters had some kind of extra power that came with their shifted forms. For griffins, it was healing. For dragons, it was incredible physical strength. For hippogriffs, it was the ability to slow time for very short periods, though it took up so much energy that they almost never used it. All of his agents had been called on to use their abilities from time to time in the line of their work, and Hardwicke was no different.
His ability as a pegasus was to be able to detect the aura of danger or things not being what they should be – which was extremely useful in his line of work, but he could only access it when he was in pegasus form. He couldsensedanger a little in his human form, but the power was diluted, and nowhere near as strong as it was when he was a pegasus. If he wanted to figure out what was going on here, he’d need to find a safe place to shift.
He’d picked up on Mrs. Shelby talking about the children’s Christmas parade – he hoped that meant that most of the people of Portsmith would be there, supporting their friends and neighbors and helping out with grilling, stalls, and corralling the animals that the children were using as their ‘reindeer’. It seemed like a fun activity, and Hardwicke felt a brief pang at not being there with Celeste, even though he knew that would be both neglecting his work and dangerous in terms of his self-control.
How long had it been since he’d thought of anything other than work, though? How long had it been since he’d just done something simple, like go to a Christmas fair organized by the local school children?
It’s not too late to go, you know,his pegasus said, whisking its tail.It’s not too late to find our mate, take her in our arms, and tell her that we never should have let her go in the first place. It’s not too late for any of that.
Hardwicke swallowed.
Maybe you’re right. But just now, we have a job to do, and no better time to do it in.
The pegasus snorted in disgust, but it seemed to accept the answer, if only because it didn’t expect any better from him. Pegasi, after all, were quite used to being their own masters – things likejobsanddutydidn’t mean much to his pegasus, but they had learned to live with each other over time.
Now, come on. We need to find a place to shift.
Hardwicke passed the cottage he was staying at, heading up the road to the outskirts of town. After the last of the houses petered out, there was really nothing there but paddocks, where sheep, horses and ponies grazed. Even though Portsmith was mainly a former fishing town, Hardwicke supposed people couldn’t live on fish alone.
He wanted to get as far away from the town as possible, just in case someone drove by or happened to look out of their window at the wrong moment. In the distance, he could make out a few scattered boulders standing in the paddocks around town – one of those would be perfect to shield him from prying eyes.
And aside from anything else, we can finally get rid of this sweater…
Hardwicke glanced down at it as he strode toward the fence of the nearest paddock. The reindeer grinned up at him, itsHo! Ho! Ho!s seeming to mock him as they floated around its head.
The fence was easily climbed – Hardwicke might be older than he had been, but he wasn’t any less limber for it.
The wind off the ocean was cutting, the gray-blue waves hurling themselves against the dark cliffs and foaming with an unearthly power around the rocky crag the tall, white tower of the lighthouse stood on.
Hardwicke frowned as he looked out at it, a shadow flickering across his mind.
There’s something not right there,he thought, his eyes narrowing.
It wasn’t anything but a vague sense of unease that troubled him – he’d be able to sense much, much more once he was in pegasus form and flying out over the ocean. But it seemed like the lighthouse was the place to start, if the strange, shadowy feeling he was getting from it was anything to go by.
All right. Let’s do this.
Breathing deep, Hardwicke ducked behind the massive boulder – clearly too large to be hauled away even by a tractor or other heavy vehicle – and shifted.
He was used to it by now, since he’d shifted countless times over the years. But still, there was something refreshing about it – the new sense of power and strength that surged through him as his body changed from the relatively weak human to the mythological creature. His wings sprouted from his back, magnificent and golden, and his hands and feet became shining silver hooves. His skin became the dazzling, pure white pelt of the pegasus.
At last!
The pegasusclearlywas not making any bones about the fact that it was pleased to finally be free.
