If we slept in our fur, we could find a nice cave and plenty of rabbits,his coyote countered.
Nope. Not doing it,Scott said.And you know you like the blankets and pillows.
Maybe, his coyote side admitted.And the couch.
Scott ran a comb through his hair, decided that he looked presentable, and then grabbed his backpack on the way out the door.
The Fox Hollow Institute resided in a large Victorian mansion, one of the era’s Great Camp summer homes for a wealthy family in the Gilded Era. Scott checked in at the desk in the main entranceway and was directed up a sweeping staircase to an office on the second floor.
He reached the door just as a man opened it.
“Scott, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Rich Jeffries.” He looked to be in his late forties, and while gray tinged his dark hair at the temples, his bright blue eyes held a vibrant sparkle.
“Very nice to meet you, too, Dr. Jeffries,” Scott said, shaking hands.
“Please, just Rich. We aren’t formal around here.” Jeffries escorted Scott into his office and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch instead of in one of the chairs near the large desk. Jeffries sat in a chair facing him.
“Now, how can I help you?” Jeffries asked.
“As I mentioned in my email, I write online articles,” Scott replied. “I have assignments for pieces on the abandoned amusement parks and ski resorts for some history and travel pages. But I also got intrigued with information I found about the old Platt Mine and the spooky creatures that supposedly crawled out of it. The university I work with has contracted me for an article on the mine—not the spooky stuff, just the mine itself.”
He had supplied plenty of links to sites for Jeffries to validate his credentials and see the kinds of articles he wrote, and the fact that he got an interview told him he had made a good first impression.
“I read some of your work. Interesting and well-researched,” Jeffries said. “That’s a difficult combination to pull off. Most writers manage one or the other. You tackled some supernatural-themed topics without being sensational. That also got my attention, given what we do here.”
“I read everything I could find about the Institute,” Scott told him. “It has a fascinating history, and I’m very interested in the kind of studies it supports.”
“We’re a rare bird, that’s true.” Jeffries laughed. “Ask away!”
“Before we start, can I ask a personal question?”
“What did you have in mind?” Jeffries asked.
Scott cleared his throat. “I’m a coyote shifter. Is it true that when you find your fated mate, you feel a ‘spark’ when you touch hands?”
“Did that happen? With someone you like?” Jeffries’s smile helped Scott feel less nervous.
“Yes. But I’m not used to feeling so much so soon. I don’t want to do this wrong,” Scott confessed.I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with him.
Jeffries chuckled. “There’s no right or wrong way to get to know your fated mate. Yes, feeling a spark like that is a classic sign. Often with shifters, their animal side will identify their mate by scent. You don’t have to move at any speed except what’s right for the two of you. Is the other person, your mate, a shifter too?”
Told you, his coyote huffed.He belongs to us.
Scott shook his head. “No. But he has psychic and weather magic abilities.”
If Jeffries guessed that Scott was talking about Justin, he didn’t mention it. “Fated mates don’t both have to share the same supernatural talents, although it’s more common when they do. If the connection is strong for both of you, go for it.”
Scott let out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Jeffries said. “You’d be surprised how often that question comes up.”
Scott powered up his laptop to take notes and got the recorder ready on his phone. “Let’s start with the ghost stories and go from there.”
For the next half hour, Scott asked about the local hauntings he had researched, some obscure and others more legendary. Jeffries was able to confirm a number of details from theInstitute’s efforts with psychics and mediums and also debunked some of the wilder stories that had arisen over the years.
“This is fantastic.” Scott paused to save his notes before moving on. “Now I’d like to ask what the Institute has heard about the old mine and its monster, or creatures from the caves.”
Jeffries’s face, so open a moment before, seemed to shutter. “Is this also for articles?”
