“Ye’re new to Doolin, yeah?” the bartender asked as he delivered Eli’s meal.
“Just passing through. I think.” Staring into his stew, he muttered, “Unless this town has a petting zoo with a silver wolf.”
Eli expected the man to give him the side eye. Or maybe to chuckle. Not to stagger back against the counter laughing so hard tears brimmed in his eyes.
“Oh, ya’ want Farren, mate. But if ya’ ever dare tell her ya’ thought she’d be in a pettin’ zoo, ye’ll regret the day ya’ were born.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he dabbed his eyes and shook his head. “Pettin’ zoo. Ya’definitelyaren’t from around these parts.”
“London.” When the bartender didn’t offer up any additional explanation, Eli sat up a little straighter. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where I can find this...Farren?”
“Two blocks south. Ya’ can’t miss the sign.” Still chuckling to himself, the bartender grabbed the bill he’d set next to Eli’s beer. “On the house. If Farren don’t eat ya’ alive, ya’ can come back and settle up later. A man shouldn’t pay for his last meal.”
Great. He’d found his silver wolf who wasn’t a wolf at all but a woman. And now a man he’d never met before automatically assumed he couldn’t hold his own? Fucking idiot.
After he drained the last of his pint, he dug into his pocket and withdrew a twenty euro note. No matter how rude the bloke had been, he wasn’t going to walk out without at least a tip.
He’d be back in an hour—or less—and pay his bill in full.
* * *
Farren
Her dark green office walls always settled her mind. As did the quiet. Most of her cases came to her by email—or by word of mouth when she’d wander down to O’Connor’s for lunch or a pint if she wanted to avoid returning to the chaos of her current home life.
Just that morning, Cade had found Mara wandering down the rocky driveway, barefoot, wearing only a tank top and loose fleece pants. The yelling and cursing that had filled her main room after that...her head still ached.
Mara’s episodes were getting worse. Lasting longer. Months ago, the poor woman had killed her own sister in order to save Cade and the rest of the pack. In doing so, she’d absorbed Katerina’s fire, and now...it was killing her. Two elements couldn’t coexist without driving the bearer mad.
For some, like Fergus, the earth elemental who’d come after Caitlin and given Farren the scar on her side that would never fade, the madness was near constant, but Mara’s struggles were almost more dangerous. When her fire element asserted itself, her mind...
“It’s like I’m locked in this tiny box with no control over anything. I can see and hear. And that’s the worst part, Farren. I know what the fire is making me do. But I’m powerless to stop it.”
One of the only times they’d spoken of Mara’s episodes, the water elemental had ended up crying in Farren’s arms, and wasn’t that just the most awkward thing? If she were more like Caitlin, she’d have been able to comfort Mara. Liam’s mate could make anyone feel safe and protected.
Farren didn’t have a comforting or motherly bone in her entire body. She was an alpha, head to toe, nose to tail, and she didn’t hold with softness. She could pretend for a short while, and she would. Whenever Mara was around. She’d do it for Cade. For Liam and Caitlin. Not that it did any good.
The last incident Farren had witnessed before this morning? Mara had been so far gone, she’d almost set fire to the bedroom she and Cade shared on the second floor. If not for Caitlin’s quick work depriving the flames of oxygen, the whole house could have gone up.
And if Mara had made it any farther this morning, she would have escaped the wards that Paddy and the old practitioner, Diedre, had set to hide Mara’s power from the Thirteen.
For six weeks, those wards had kept them safe. But they had also kept the elementals trapped on Farren’s property, and everyone was going a bit stir crazy.
Shite. She just needed to escape for a few days. Find some case to dig her teeth into. Perhaps literally.
Scanning her email for the tenth time that afternoon, she blew out a long breath. Empty. At this point, she’d take anything. Even a scorned wife looking to tail her cheating husband. A lost cat. Misplaced car keys.
When folks learned she worked as a private investigator, they assumed she skulked around at night, dodged danger at every turn, and lived a life of excitement and intrigue. In reality, she spent most of her time hunting for information on the internet. Fergus Tharp had been the only danger she’d faced in three years.
Farren leaned back in her chair and stared out her tiny window. If she couldn’t find a client soon, she’d go back home, hide upstairs until the moon rose, then shift and run until she couldn’t run any further. It was either that or find a drink and a fight.
* * *
Though her frontwindow was heavily tinted to keep prying eyes from seeing in, Farren knew the moment the sun descended below the horizon. She couldn’t put it off any longer and reached for her phone. If Caitlin needed anything for dinner, she could stop at the store. But two numbers into dialing, her office door opened.
“I’m looking for a woman named Farren?”
The tall, bronze-skinned god standing in front of her made her jaw drop and her mouth go as dry as the Sahara in the space of a single breath. Unruly shocks of dark hair fell across his forehead, and pale green eyes, reminiscent of the sea after a storm, took her in. His full lips pursed briefly, and she let her gaze trail lower, across broad shoulders, corded arms, and a narrow waist and hips.
“I’m Farren Denair. Can I help ya’?” She stood and held out her hand. As his fingers brushed hers, a spark of electricity raced up her arm, and his scent, something rich with a hint of spice, made her core clench. It had been far too long since she’d been with a man, and this one ticked all her boxes.
