Page 27 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Max dropped the can he’d been looking at, and Rory chased after it when it rolled away. Max was still staring when he brought it back.

“You were a bird for ten years?” he repeated, sounding totally shocked.

“Well, I think it was probably less than that,” Rory said conscientiously. “I guess I should have been paying closer attention.”

He knew that dates were important to mortals. He noticed sometimes. But sometimes, time just sort of… happened.

“Ten years,” Max muttered. “Holy shit. Uh, is there someone you want to contact?”

Rory didn’t immediately make the connection, and then he shook his head. “Oh, no, it’s just me. There was a fire before, and then it was just me.”

He’d set the fire, technically, and his rebirth had been in exchange for the lives he’d saved when he’d done it, the people he’d rescued who wouldn’t have survived otherwise. But he wasn’t supposed to share all that yet. Max hadn’t accepted him as his mate.

Max’s expression had gone sad. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Rory looked up into his serious face. “Sometimes it’s hard, but I’ve mostly gotten used to it. It’s why I was so excited to find you.”

“Find me?” Max said.

Rory nodded. He made a face. “That’s why I ran into the window. I’m really sorry about that! I promise I’m usually way more aware of my surroundings and in control of myself, but I just looked over, and there you were, and I was so shocked, and the bird instincts took over, and that meant ‘splat.’”

“But why would you be excited about finding me?” Max asked, still sounding confused.

“Because you’re my mate,” Rory told him.

Max drew back. “Whoa. Hold on. What are you talking about?”

Rory grimaced and asked anxiously, “Oh, should I not have said anything? I know most people don’t really have a connection with the Magic anymore and don’t notice. But I can tell. My connection to the Magic is very good.”

Max continued to stare at him like he wasn’t speaking a comprehensible language. Rory hadn’t lapsed into birdsong when he wasn’t paying attention, had he? But no, these human vocal cords wouldn’t be able to produce the correct sounds.

Max lowered his voice. “You think magic brought us together?”

He sounded very skeptical.

Rory tilted his head back and forth. “Kind of? Not like a spell or something. But the bigger magic, the magic that fills the whole world and makes shifters and witches. That magic. I always think of it as having a capital, though that probably doesn’t help much with your understanding.”

Max huffed a breath. “Capitalization isn’t really my biggest concern right now, no. This probably isn’t a conversation we should be having at the grocery store. Let’s finish shopping, and we can talk about it at home, okay?”

Rory agreed to that immediately, though he was quite sure now that he shouldn’t have mentioned anything yet. He didn’t always gauge that right. It was why the mythical shifters had agreed amongst themselves not to tell anyone about themselves except their mate—once that mate accepted them. Now that he was faced with his mate, he began to understand that was more complicated than it seemed. How could his mate accept him if he didn’t know the truth? But Rory wasn’t supposed to tell the truth unless he was certain his mate would accept him.

At this point, Max doubted the whole idea, so Rory was clearly not supposed to share more. When should he proceed, though?

He supposed he was going to find out.

Max drew his attention back to the cart. “When you look at these foods, do you envision a meal of any kind?”

Rory stared at them. “Well, I think about eating them all. That’s a meal, right?”

Max smiled faintly. “Sort of. But unless you want to dip the pineapple in the salsa, you’re missing a few key ingredients. Come on.”

Rory would be willing to try pineapple dipped in salsa, but by the time Max had finished marching up and down the grocery aisles, there were chips to go with the salsa, crackers for the cheese, strawberries and grapes to go with the pineapple, a spicy chicken curry with a side of vegetables, rice, naan, pasta and tomato sauce, special bread with garlic on it, potatoes and steak with a “spice rub,” more sandwich bread and peanut butter, a small piece of fish, and—

Max held up the artichoke. “Do you actually like artichokes?”

Rory smiled. “I like the way they look.”

“Uh huh,” Max said, looking like he was trying not to smile. “But if we take it home, are you going to cook it and actually eat it?”