He hadn’t tried to stop her. Might even still be where she left him. She wasn’t going to look.
Instead, she yanked on the cord that drew the thick burgundy curtains over the front window and hustled past the bay window bump with her home office setup and into the tiny bedroom. Safe.
The man had been too fascinating—compelling—and he was so not her type, urbane and with the runner’s body. She liked men burlier. Overtly muscular. No, this man wasn’t what she wanted. Really.
He said he was from Eight Corp. The company that was looking for a story developer and writer for Fairies and Dragons. Everything she’d ever wanted. She sniffed, realized her nostrils were straining to get the last whiff of the guy’s scent. A fragrance she couldn’t pin down, just like all the rest of him. Sweetly musky? With a faint sharp tang? His skin had seemed to shimmer. That couldn’t be good.
Would she really see him tomorrow?
* * *
Lathyr Tricurrent watched Kiri Palger hurry back into her home. She seemed odd even for a human, the waves of her personal field resonating in ways that he recognized—Kiri had a potential for magic.
It was that potential vibrating around her, bending the light into tiny rainbows enveloping her, that had drawn him out.
He’d underestimated the charm of this place and of Kiri herself.
In the spring, more magic had graced the world and much had changed for the Lightfolk. Lathyr was one of those who had begun to experience new powers. And the Meld—merging magic and human technology—had rapidly increased.
Some humans could actually become Lightfolk, transform into magical elemental beings.
Lathyr was one of those who could sense such potential in certain humans—his new talent. He’d been unsure whether to be pleased with this or not.
He was not quite a full Merfolk; there was the slightest trace of elf in his background, enough to give him a point to his ears.
And the highest Lightfolk did not value anyone who wasn’t pure Lightfolk—or purely of one element. He’d been abandoned by his mother, no family claimed him, he had no home. He’d mostly lived on sufferance as a servant at the royal palaces or a guest of lower nobles, forced to be a drifter, and he hated it.
He could never reach the highest status, or even be awarded a tiny estate by the eight who controlled all the true domiciles under the ocean. He wanted a home of his own, not a rough cave.
He wouldn’t have had a chance at that home before the infusion of magic that had given him his new power.
But a notion was edging into his mind that the stratified lines of rank and status were cracking...becoming as fluid and as new as the Meld. Great change brought new opportunities.
In the spring, a halfling—half-human and half-Lightfolk—had become a Princess of the Lightfolk, a Fire Princess. Unprecedented.
He glanced toward the abode of Princess Jindesfarne Mistweaver Emberdrake. He didn’t need to see the light in her office window to know she was home. The waves of magic—human and Lightfolk and from the Treeman who was her husband—blended and flowed to him, like the taste of rich chocolate on the air. She’d summoned him because she thought the human residents of Mystic Circle could become magical. She was right.
People with such potential—as well as other Lightfolk—had migrated to the cul-de-sac because of Jindesfarne’s powers.
Evil magical ones, Darkfolk, could not live in Mystic Circle, and Lightfolk magic even kept wicked humans from the neighborhood. Too bad Kiri Palger didn’t know that—yet.
Princess Jindesfarne—Jenni Weavers Emberdrake—had been right. Lathyr should have waited until the next day to approach Kiri Palger. But Mystic Circle’s cul-de-sac threw all his talents, not only his new ones, off. He’d never been in a place so rich with magic where all four elements were balanced. When balanced, magic was so much easier to do, to experience.
Balanced magic made living heady, and he’d felt the rush when he’d coalesced from a cloud to the pond in the park a few minutes before. The richness of the place and Kiri had made him act impulsively, speak when he should have stayed silent.
Now Lathyr could feel the minor earth elementals who were attached to two of the households—brownies—running through the tunnels they’d carved under his feet.
Even as he thought of them, one of the brownies popped out of the ground before Lathyr.
“You have any chocolate?” the small man with wrinkled face and large triangular ears asked.
Lathyr frowned. “You should be able to smell that I don’t.” He’d heard the brownies in this area were out of control in their demand for the rare sweet.
The brownieman sniffed lustily. “I smell drying merskin. You go back to your pond. There’s nothing for you here, now.” The less-than-a-meter-high being glanced at Kiri Palger’s shut door.
Lathyr set his teeth, let his lower lip curl.
“When you come back tomorrow, bring us chocolate.” The little earth elemental frowned, looked up at a sky full of dark clouds and shivered. “Darkfolk are very aware of Denver, now. Glad I am here, safe.” He vanished with a discourteous pop.
And Lathyr had to face facts.
He’d liked the looks of Kiri Palger, had wanted to impress her and show her real magic. He’d floated his card to her. That had not gone well.
He’d failed at first contact with the human in a project that might bring him the chance his birth had denied him. A chance to provide outstanding service and be rewarded with an ocean home, some small ocean valley with an acceptable current. The stability of not having to move every few months. He aspired to more than a cave in the ocean or a house on land. He wanted a real home, a place where he could—perhaps—start a family or at least secure his future.
With this project, with Kiri Palger, he could get it. Gaining the notice of a high noble like Princess Mistweaver Emberdrake was the first step.
That was worth any cost.
Chapter 2
THE MYSTIC CIRCLE neighborhood party was the first since Kiri had moved in a month before. The residents she’d met seemed like a friendly bunch—most of them extroverted. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.
So the party was a big deal to her. Not only would she have to come out of her shell and be personable with her neighbors, but she wanted to impress Jenni Weavers.
Jenni Weavers was the project director of the online multiplayer game, Fairies and Dragons, that Kiri wanted to write for. Kiri had her application in to Eight Corp for the job. A new area of the game called Pegasus Valley had been announced and Kiri’d written a couple of story arcs for it.
She wanted the writing job—and a career like Jenni had—so badly Kiri could taste it.... Sweet joy like melty caramel.
As soon as she’d heard that Fairies and Dragons’ main location had changed to Denver, she’d begun watching the website for job opportunities. Then she’d discovered Jenni Weavers actually lived in Denver, had for years.
Kiri had done a tiny smidge of discreet snooping and found out Jenni lived here in Mystic Circle. Though Kiri had spent time with her grandmother in Denver on and off all of her life and lived there the past four years, she’d never heard of the small cul-de-sac. She’d driven to it...and fallen in love. With the cul-de-sac. With the houses. And one had been for sale. A month ago she’d taken all of the savings she had left from the nest egg her parents had given her and bought the place.
She didn’t regret it. Now maybe she could land her perfect job, too.
But she hadn’t actually met Jenni yet, and Jenni would be one of the people hiring.
That meant good clothes. For any other block party, Kiri would’ve gone in jeans and layered tanks, the top with a sparkly design. For Jenni Weavers, it meant pressed beige linen pants and white, man-style shirt with tiny beige pinstripes and cuffs. Kiri was glad she’d gotten only a temporary tatt of the Fairies and Dragons logo and it had worn off a long time ago. That would have been over-the-top fan-girl.
Her pants were a little loose—power walking around the Circle and down to the small business district had its benefits, as long as she didn’t stop at the gelato shop.
She slipped on her lucky silver bracelet and hurried to the kitchen to pick up the huge pan of still-warm brownies she’d made for the potluck.
As soon as she exited her house, she could hear the cheerful noise of voices at Jenni’s home. “You’re going to be fine. You like the neighbors you’ve met,” she reassured herself. “Amber and Rafe Davail, Jenni’s guy, Aric, and the gay couple, Dan and Frank. You’ll find something to talk about.”
The Mystic Circle people seemed nice, really, a real community, almost a family. Since Kiri and her parents weren’t close—hell, Dad was in Baja and Mom in Florida—and they’d emotionally abandoned her as a child, and neither had the same values as she—Kiri had the hope of joining this extended family. One more reason Mystic Circle appealed to her, she’d heard they were a tight community. Another thing she wanted to accomplish today, get further along that path to being accepted.
And if Kiri was going to work with Jenni Weavers, she’d better learn how to speak to her without stuttering.
