Sexy Neighbour
That’s me, treasure. I play bass guitar by feeling the vibrations. The higher the volume, the more I can feel.
As cool as that is, the neighbours hate you.
You think I care about random humans?
You care about what I think though, right?
Playing on my crush—so devious. But it won’t work, treasure. Your ward blocks all the vibrations from my music.
…
How do you know that?
I can see magic.
WTF?! Dragons can seemagic?!
No, just me.
‘Remember to practice the new signs before Tuesday.’ Olivia, my BSL teacher, dismisses the class, already packing up her laptop.
I’ve been taking in-person classes twice a week since I met Bryn. With extensive online tutoring as well, I’m definitely improving. Unfortunately Olivia and the rest of the class attendees are human, so it’s been difficult to refresh my knowledge of signs specific to the supernatural community. Given that Bryn and I aren’t allowed to communicate at work and have been mostly messaging outside of it, I’ve not yet asked him if he’s willing to help me with those.
Everyone hurries to their cars, and I don’t blame them. Snow is coming down thickly, blanketing the poorly lit car park of the small community centre in a layer of white.
I turn my engine on and clear my car windows slowly, making sure Olivia is safe as she locks up and that everyone gets away without any problems. Once the humans are out of the car park I get going as well, wondering if maybe I should make more of an effort to get to know the other class participants. After so many years in the armed forces, I’m used to interacting with humans and keeping necessary secrets, but everyone in the class, while friendly enough, is always in a rush to leave afterwards.
Truthfully, as I drive home on almost deserted roads, I know the ache inside is because I miss my pack. I’ve done long undercover operations before, of course, but I’m finding it a lot harder to be apart from them this time.
Which is irritating. Tiger shifters are mostly solitary. I shouldn’t need my packmates as much as I do.
By the time I park outside my building I’m ready to reheat dinner, pour a glass of wine, and collapse in front of the TV.Except instead of entering a warm flat, the chill seeping into every nook and cranny of Birchester has pervaded my home as well. Bugger.
I check the boiler, which is stone cold with no lights on. I try the button to reignite the pilot light, but nothing happens. Turning it off and on again, then retrying to ignite the pilot light doesn’t work either. The agency I rent through won’t be open until morning, but I email them anyway and mark it as urgent.
At least the electricity is still on. I start the tarka dhal I made last night reheating in the microwave, pop the kettle on, then head to my bedroom to swap my coat for a cheap jumper with a basic hoodie over the top. Not a style I’d ever normally wear, but unfortunately I have to dress as my undercover persona even at home in case someone comes over. Dhiren definitely can’t afford any of my usual clothes.
I opt for a fruit tea instead of wine, retrieve the dhal, then settle on the sofa with the velvet throw over me and my laptop next to me so that I can google tips on how to get my boiler working myself. Unfortunately, it’s such an old model that there doesn’t seem to be much I can do that I haven’t already tried.
I could just pay to get it fixed without waiting for the rental agency to arrange it, but the thing about undercover work is that you never know what’ll give you away. Would Bryn see, and wonder how Dhiren can afford an emergency call-out fee on a warehouse worker’s salary? Or maybe the gas engineer turns up and we get talking, and their sister works at Far Out Freight, then they mention me to the sister, and it goes from there? No, it’s not worth the risk. Looks like I’ll be having a cold shower in the morning.
The lack of heating shouldn’t make a difference, but my flat is eerily quiet tonight. Maybe because with the snow, there’s virtually no traffic outside. That, and it’s been far too long since Jet played a prank on me, or Skye tapped his beak on my window tobe let in to spill the tea, or I was able to go over to Ethan and Ayo’s for breakfast.
It’s not forever. I’ll see them all again. In fact, my next scheduled video call with Ethan is in a few days. That’s not too long to wait.
Despite telling myself there’s no reason to be lonely, I end up opening the group chat I have with my parents. My last few messages have gone unanswered, but that’s not unusual. It’s been weeks since I heard from them though, and I want to finalise arrangements for their visit.
I should probably just put on some music. That would be far more relaxing.
Sighing, I hit call on my mother’s number. It rings. And rings. And rings. Eventually, the call goes to voicemail.
“Hello, Mother. I thought I’d call and see how you are. I’m looking forward to seeing you and Father for the festival. Please return my call at your convenience.”
I try my father next, with the same result. I don’t leave a message this time; Father never calls back.
“Why are you wrapped up like a burrito?” Ethan frowns through the laptop screen, sitting at his kitchen island wearing a T-shirt.
