Page 46 of Alec

“Wife.” Tasgall pulled her into his arms and held her close, giving Olivia a grateful look before he kissed Ava. “’Tis over for now.”

“No, my lord.” Alec returned, blood spatter staining his tunic, and the quiver at his hip half-empty now. “The MacBren, he didnae leave through the gates. After killing most of the gardener’s lads he ordered his men to set up an encampment inside the second wall, by the stables.”

The laird shook his head. “Never did he before, why now?”

“The same reason he appeared a week early, I think,” Ava told him. “Something has changed the time cycle enchantment.”

Olivia saw Alec watching her instead of the laird and his wife and went over to him. The blood spatter on his clothes made her stomach clench. “You okay?”

“As much as anyone.” He shouldered his bow and came closer, but otherwise didn’t touch her or even look at her. “I must head to the tower now to set watch on the MacBren. Go with Lady Ava to the dungeons and stay there.”

“Alec.” When he finally met her gaze she put her arms around him. “Please be careful.”

“And you, my dreòlan.” He hugged her for a moment before backing out of her embrace and gesturing to his men, who rushed with him out of the hall.

Bodach flew out of the spell trap, shedding his butterfly form as soon as he crossed over the threshold into the real world. There Clagden stood waiting in his police officer guise, his mortal features displaying an appropriate amount of awe and admiration.

“You shift forms as if you are changing garments, Master,” the changeling said as he watched him resume his guise as Renard Beaumont. “Were you able to find that Gibson female you sent into the trap?”

“You’re very curious about my business.” He hadn’t told his new servant what he intended to do, but Clagden was proving cleverer than he’d assumed. The chain mail glove he sometimes used to breach the barrier had been moved. The creature also asked too many questions. “What does it matter to you what I do in there?”

“I only wish to be of service, Master.” The changeling bowed so low his nose brushed his knees. When he straightened, he asked, “Can you teach me to disguise myself as well as you do?”

“Teach you?” Now in Renard Beaumont’s form, he slapped the dark Fae’s head. “No wonder you were abandoned. Do you mistake me for your parent?”

“I wish only to appear completely human.” He lifted the hem of his shirt, displaying the darkly mottled flesh of his abdomen. “My former master never taught me to hide more than my shape, face and limbs. I must rely on clothing to cover the rest of my hide.”

“Surely you don’t wish to scamper about the mortal realm naked.” As the changeling’s expression turned sullen Bodach guessed the motive behind his request. “Ah, I see. You desire a mate—have you a particular human in mind?”

The cop shuddered. “I would never waste my seed on a mortal female.”

“A pity. They can be quite amusing in their limited fashion. Remind me to tell you about the last one I used.” Bodach grew even more interested. “Have you found yourself another changeling, then?”

Clagden nodded. “I met a female who was abandoned by her mistress like me. She desires to take me as her mate and breed with me, but only in mortal form.”

“So you must refine your guise to please your female.” Bodach chuckled, amused by how dense the other male had proved. “I can teach you how to improve your glamour spell, of course, but you must first do something for me.”

The changeling nodded eagerly. “Anything.”

“I want to meet your female.” He grinned as Clagden’s expression turned sour. “Or you can spend the rest of eternity mating while dressed in your patrol uniform. It makes absolutely no difference to me.”

An hour later Bodach walked into a small art gallery in Carmel, where a number of oil paintings of illuminated sea waves, stunted cypress trees on cliffs and charming cottages with blazing yellow windows hung on the exhibit panels. Several fat white pillar candles burned atop brass stands, but their vanilla scent barely masked the musk of the otherworldly creature on the premises.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” A tall blonde female in a dark green gown came out from behind the reception desk. She walked with such small steps she seemed to float, and when she gave Clagden a narrow look a flash of dark magic briefly shimmered in her brown eyes. “I’m Jean Jahns, the gallery director,” she said, smiling at Bodach. “How may I help you?”

“Your paramour brought me to make your acquaintance, dear Jean. I must say, I’m impressed.” Looking over the seamless beauty of her glamour made him wonder why she had bothered. Her gown and the heavy boots he glimpsed under it provided a clue. “Do you have a back room where we can properly introduce ourselves?”

She went to lock the front door of the gallery before she led them through the exhibits and into an office. After pulling down the blinds and locking the door she regarded Bodach with a resentful pout.

“Please remember that I have to pass as human here,” she said, a faint whine in her tone now. “If you do anything to compromise my identity, it will take me years to–”

“Do shut up.” Bodach grabbed her by the hair, making her scream until he clamped a hand over her mouth. “You haven’t shown our friend Clagden here your true appearance yet. Drop your glamour.” When she started to struggle, he added, “Show him, or I will compel you to do so, along with several other things you will not enjoy.”

Jean sighed, and the scent of her perfume vanished as her shape changed, and her body shrank down. She became half her height and twice her width as her flesh grew lumpy and lost all its color. Her scalp turned bald, but thick clusters of greenish hair sprouted from her jaw and neck. Her arms hung so low her bulging knuckles scraped the floor. Her sagging breasts and buttocks made it clear that she was much older than her changeling beau, probably into her third or fourth millennium. The collection of old scars on her body suggested she had once served as a warrior, but not a very skillful one.

Then there was the stench of her true form, which grew so foul that it made even Bodach’s eyes water.

“You’ve found yourself a rather undesirable mate, my boy,” Bodach told Clagden, who stared aghast at the stumpy female. “She stinks like a swamp filled with dumped medical waste. What are you, lovely one, part troll?”