Well, it might be easier if things really did work that way,Hardwicke thought grimly as he drove along the narrow road leading to the island’s single town. Certainly, it might have helped if he could just rely on people being compelled enough by the sight of a pegasus to just do whatever he asked of them, no fuss, no mess. Hardwicke was a big fan of efficiency, after all, and he lived his life trying to get from A to B as quickly as possible. If there things he didn’t like, it was wasted time and wasted effort.
But he also liked things to be doneright, and starting off his investigation by revealing to all and sundry that both pegasiandshifters existed was, he thought, absolutelynotgoing to achieve literally anything he had come here to achieve, not mentioning the fact that he’d be blowing the cover of shifters everywhere.
Of course,somehumans knew shifters existed – all of his team had human mates, after all, and all of them had told their mates about themselves and what it meant to be the mate of a shifter. But in general, their existence was still a closely guarded secret, along with the existence of all other kinds of supernatural beings. That was part of what the Shifter Patrol Corps did – making sure shifters weren’t causing problems not only for humans, but other shifters too.
But it meant he couldn’t reveal his shifted form. And it drove his pegasuscrazy.
A pegasus is a creature that is meant to be feared and admired,it had told him many times, stomping its golden hooves in a flurry of self-righteous fury.Is there any point to being a pegasus if there is no one who will revere us?
Hardwicke had to admit… sometimes, it was tempting. Not that he’d everdoit – his pegasus form and special powers were forhelpingpeople, not for forcing them to venerate him – but occasionally he wondered what it would be like to just drop the pretense and reveal himself.
A small, wry smile crossed his lips as he drove. If his team – or anyone else – could see his thoughts right now, they’d probably drop whatever they were carrying in their shock. He was, after all, known to be as by-the-book as they came, a stickler for protocol and doing things the right way. They probably thought he never evenconsidereddoing something wild and crazy, and that he slept with a copy of the Shifter Patrol Corps rules and protocol handbook in the bed next to him.
Which, honestly… would not be so far from the truth,he had to admit, thinking a little ruefully of the times he’d nodded off, alone in bed, with the handbook still in his hands while he looked up some minor matter of procedure to make sure a case would go the way it should, and that everyone on his team was following the rules.
Well, that was how he’d been so successful, Hardwicke thought as he turned a corner, and the glimmering lights of Portsmith came into view in the distance, shining through the misty morning haze. He knew his job, and he did itwell. He’d never had a case go awry because of a technicality. Everything wasalwaysby the book.
You simply find comfort in predictability,his pegasus snorted dismissively,because you let the only thing you’ve ever really wanted slip through your fingers all those years ago, and now you think you can compensate by exercising control over everything else.
Hardwicke gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, in his effort not to swerve the car off the road.
Are you finished?he asked the pegasus, as it shook its magnificent mane haughtily. It seemed, however, that it had said its piece – in revenge, Hardwicke assumed, for not letting it fly to the island instead of driving and then taking the ferry.
You know we can’t do that anyway,Hardwicke said, releasing a deep breath as well as his stranglehold on the car’s steering wheel.We have luggage, and you don’t have hands. How do you propose to carry a suitcase?
The pegasus didn’t have an answer for that, and retreated into sullen silence. It didn’t like to be reminded that, as magnificent as it may have been, there were certain things it couldn’t do.
And besides which, it’s blowing a gale out there. You saw the sea as we were coming over. You’d end up getting blown sideways into a hedge, and who do you think is going to revere you then? Remember what happened to Rowan.
The pegasus, having had enough apparently, shook its head once more, twitching its tail, and then, snorting, removed itself from the forefront of Hardwicke’s mind.
The reminder of Rowan – a member of Hardwicke’s team who’d met his mate when, in griffin form, he’d been too impatient to get to the scene of an investigation and had crashed through the roof of a shed in the midst of a snowstorm – had been enough to get it to back off.
Though at least crashing through that shed roof meant that Rowan met his mate,Hardwicke thought. It had been a one-in-a-million chance that the shed he’d destroyed had just happened to belong to the woman he was meant to be with, but then, that was what meeting your matewas: a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
Quickly, Hardwicke shoved the thought aside. He didn’t know why he was dwelling on this so much right now – maybe because it was Christmas, and all his agents were off with their own mates, celebrating the lives they were building together. Hardwicke was sincerely happy for all of them; if he wanted to look at it with the cold, ruthless eye he’d accustomed himself to using over the past few years, he could tell himself it was because happy men made for more effective agents. But he knew that wasn’t the whole reason.
It’s good to know that some people are experiencing the happiness I missed out on,Hardwicke thought as he reached the first of the outlying buildings of the town.I can’t really begrudge anyone their happiness, or feel jealous about it.
That, at least, was true.
But knowing how happy they all were definitelywasa brutal reminder that he’d been rejected by his own mate, and he’d never know that kind of happiness himself.
It’s not the right time to sit and wallow in self-pity, though,he thought, not that it waseverthe right time to sit and wallow in self-pity.
He had a job to do, and he was going to do it. Christmas time or not, painful reminders of having lost the woman he’d loved more than life itself or not.
Portsmith was hardly a big place, and there were really only one or two big streets. It was easy enough to find the place he was staying: a refurbished fisherman’s cottage, small and cozy, and situated right by the sea, a little separate from the other houses – it’d be a good place for him to surreptitiously shift and fly out over the ocean, provided there was ever a break in the howling winds.
If anyone sees, maybe they’ll just think we’re an extra-large albatross,he thought, and, predictably, was given an outraged glare by his pegasus.
Do you dare to make light of our magnificence?it asked, as if Hardwicke had just suggested itwasan oversized bird, or that its mother had been a pelican who’d laid an egg or something. Which she had not been, Hardwicke could vouch for that!
It was just a little joke,he told it, though he knew the pegasus wasn’t in a joking mood right now – not that it usually was. It took itselfdeadlyseriously, and it expected everyone else to do the same.
Much like how most of my agents see me, I suppose,Hardwicke thought as he turned the car into the drive of the cottage he’d rented. It looked just like it did in the photos on the website: the exterior was painted pale blue, while the roof was made of iron, and although it was new, it was already a little rusty from the harsh, salty air and strong winds. It seemed like you needed to be tough to live out here, and Hardwicke had to admit he admired the people who could make this place their home.
Still, there was something starkly beautiful about the place, he thought as he got out of the car – there were no trees that he could see, but even the windswept, dark green grass and shrubs that seemed to be all that could survive the harsh climate were beautiful in their own way, as, of course, was the slate-gray sea he could see heaving and crashing against the coast, white foam spraying up against the dark cliffsides.
