Shifting Hearts Read online

  The construction project should be the main thing on my mind, but as my mind is proving to be traitorous, I keep drifting to thoughts of the shifter. I worry about leaving town for extended trips while she is here, or at least until I discover her purpose of being here.

  I will have to find someone I can trust to oversee the construction for me. Aaron would be perfect if he is willing.

  Grant yells, “Timber.” I glance over to make sure I am not on the fall path and I see the other two are a few hits away from felling their tree as well. Not being nearly as close, I turn back to mine and attack with a new fury. Guess I let myself get too distracted. Right after I hear the thud of Grant’s tree, Big Walt, and Silus both bellow out a warning. Looks like I will be the one buying the first round tonight.

  We partner up to carry the trees back to the house. It was a short walk, but the early heat of the day leaves us all sweating profusely by the time we make it. To cool down, I take off my shirt before heading back to pick up the next one. The other guys followed suit and I hear Silus muttering to himself, something about wishing the river was closer so he could jump in. I couldn’t agree more.

  Even though Grant and I are the sons of a lord, we have not lived a soft life. My father believes that children working with their hands is essential to growing up. He was right and it made us well-rounded.

  We were always being volunteered as extra hands, no matter what the project was. Grant and I used to hate it when we were little, all we wanted to do was swordplay and train with the guard. My father’s wisdom was proven right, as everything I have learned is invaluable for leading. I have a healthy grasp on the effort a project takes and how much a person can handle.

  Once we got the support logs in place, the real fun started. Smashing down the destroyed wall was a release I desperately needed. I had been burning with extra energy since seeing that woman this morning.

  It was steady work and we rotated through smashing and tearing away debris. That plus our conversation made time fly right by. Turns out I had missed quite the scandal on top of the fire. Aaron was filling me on in the recent gossip about the sudden wedding on Nault’s farm between his eldest daughter and Tom – his farm hand.

  He was talking to me in a whisper, as Tom was occasionally near us, delivering new boards. “He was walking out to the field to check on the scarecrow - they have been having issues with early morning birds - when he heard some noises coming from inside the barn. Wondering if the cows were spooked, he wandered in, only to find Nessa is a very compromising position with Tom.” Aaron’s face bunched up with fake rage, “Nault exploded, and probably would have killed the boy if his wife didn’t intercede. She had heard the yelling and came running, I think she must have known about the young lovers.” He said with a knowing wink.

  “She was able to calm everyone down enough to figure out a solution. Shortly after, they were planning a wedding. Good thing too, I have it on good knowledge Nessa is with child. Would have been a terrible thing for the kid to grow up without its father.”

  “Surely old Nault would not have killed Tom?” I asked.

  “I am not so sure, he wanted more for Nessa than to live on a farm for the rest of her life. Just goes to show, fathers don’t always know what is best.”

  “That’s the truth.” I agree, thinking about Gwen.

  I was about to ask him when the wedding would be but before I had the chance we were interrupted by Liz’s sharp voice. “Hullo boys, want a quick lunch break? You’ve earned it.”

  On cue, my stomach grumbles. I turn around and see that Liz is not alone. The new barmaid, the eagle-shifter I have been obsessing over is with her. She looks up and meets my eyes. Great, she caught me staring at her again and she rewarded me another one of those infuriating smirks. If only she could tell what I imagined doing to her to take that smirk off her face. I would gladly give her mouth something else to do.

  The woman looked at Liz and said, “Where would you like me to set the basket down?” Her voice is honey-sweet. I expected it to be harsher somehow.

  “Oh, anywhere is fine. The inside isn’t friendly to eat in right now, so the boys will have to just eat standing up out here.”

  She sauntered forward and placed the basket next to the water pitcher, “Well, I must head back. The lunch rush is bound to be starting and Nash will need my help. Goodbye Liz.”

  “So long Ash, thank you for your help carrying everything here.”

  Her name is Ash. Ash, like a tall tree? No, like all that remains of a fire. Ash fits her as I have no doubt she could burn hot and leave nothing but destruction in her wake.

  “Anytime,” she shouts back as she hurries off towards the main street, not sparing so much as a glance back. Somehow that infuriates me more.

  Everyone turns their focus on lunch but I keep looking after her. Maybe I am being too harsh, after all, she has already been here for a few weeks and nothing has happened. All my instincts are telling me to never trust a shifter, you never know what their goal is. I just need to find more about her or find a way to scare her out of town. No matter what, I cannot let her know that I know. A shifter is always the most dangerous when they know their cover is blown.

  I was pulled out of my thoughts as Grant tossed a wrapped meat bun at me, “There had better be more than one in there with my name on it,” I said as I caught it.

  “There’s a couple,” Liz said, “I picked up a few extra because of your obsession with them. Make sure you have some of the real food as well, you all need to eat enough to get through the rest of the building.” I approach the basket and see it is also filled with melty sandwiches and some chocolate dessert. I will have no problem eating plenty of this food, it is well known that Nash never makes anything bad.

  Liz walked over to her son and I am sure Aaron was updating her on the progress. It was a good update. We will finish today, likely in an hour or two. New boards have already started being installed, almost all the debris is removed and carried away. A few of the guys are already working on the interior. By the smile on Liz’s face, I can tell she has been told just that.

  TWO – ASH

  I am chiding myself, after all, this was not the first time I have seen men shirtless. The young men in my clan were often so during training. It wasn’t the whole group that excited me, it was the one man. The one I keep catching starting at me. Staring at me with those deep, sky-blue eyes. His body is massive. He is easily a foot taller than me and is covered in muscles. Seeing him standing there, so natural in his half-nakedness sent a shock down deep into my core.

  I had such a sudden longing to trace every part of him, feel each and every corded muscle. I have always been drawn to strength and he has plenty to share. I shake myself out of my imagination, I don’t have time to daydream about being with a man I don’t know. He would only distract me and complicate things. Besides, it would never work as he can never know I am a shifter. I will never burden anyone with that knowledge.

  As I hurry my way back to Nash’s tavern, I am beating myself up. I pray the men did not notice how my shock. Hopefully, none of them could see my embarrassment or sense that is why I made a hasty retreat. The last thing I need is any of them thinking I am interested. It is already hard enough staying under the radar being new in town but adding courting men into the mix would make it impossible.

  The trouble with being a woman in a new town is no one wants to leave you alone. It’s hard being normal with a minimum of all your teeth but being memorable makes it nearly impossible. That is why I rarely went on supply runs in human form, it was always difficult for me to be discreet and forgettable.

  I am not dense, I know I am more than just mildly attractive. My mom was one of the most beautiful people I am ever known and I seem to have inherited many of my features from her.

  Growing up, she used to always say to me, “Why blend in when you were born to stand out?” When I was young, I would love hearing her say that, it made me feel special and grown up. After my
first transition, that phrase came to haunt me and I started to fear it. The worst thing for any shifter is to stand out, something my mother will never understand since she is not one.

  That is why I can’t risk changing into my eagle form any time soon, if someone were to see me, my cover would disappear in an instant.

  Approaching the tavern, I see a few of the regulars and a few unknown travelers already eating lunch. Looks like it will be busy enough to keep my wandering mind off the blue-eyed man and his drool-worthy chest.

  Working at Nash’s Tavern is perfect for what I need. It not only gives me a place to sleep, it allows access to the numerous travelers coming through town and thus their gossip. I am hoping to hear a word from home. I will take any rumor, as it will help me discover if anyone else survived.

  I hope to hear anything other than they were captured. Being killed would be better than falling to the torture of Ridders. I don’t know what I will do if I hear one way or the other, but for now my plan is just to listen and lay low. I must keep myself safe, or I won’t be able to help anyone. The worrying is starting to tear me apart, it’s been two weeks and I haven’t heard anything.

  I walk in behind the bar to grab my apron. Nash is talking to two men I recognized, some of the local farmers. Seeing me, he excuses himself and heads my way.

  Nash has owned his tavern for twenty or so years, yet he still jokes about being new to the town. He is a large man, nearing fifty, and healthy as an ox. I have no doubt that he will be running this place for another twenty years. He looks tough, with this bald head, thick beard and being easily over six feet tall but as soon as you get to know him, most of that toughness disappears. Don’t get me wrong, he could easily handle any troublemakers but he rarely gets involved in tussles. He prefers to let the men handle it amongst themselves. That being said, if anyone threatened anyone he cared about, I am sure he would destroy them. He is a nice man to have in your corner and I trusted him from the first moment I met him.

  Nash asked me with his gravelly voice, “Did it all get delivered without a fuss?”

  Nodding, “The basket wasn’t too heavy, and Liz was a great company.”

  His eyes lit up a little bit at that, “She sure is, I think that is the reason she is such a great healer, she makes everyone so comfortable.”

  Nodding my agreement, “So which table first?” I say as I tie the apron around my waist. There were a few tables I noticed that didn’t have any drinks on them yet.

  Nash gestured to the table near the door, “Over there, they have been waiting for the longest.”

  Grabbing my tray, I nod as I make my way to the table he indicated. There were four of them, I got their order and they all wanted an ale, easy. Turning back to the bar, I hold up four fingers and Nash gets started on pouring. The fingers only work for ale, but since that is what most people order, it makes things a little bit faster. I check to see if any of them want lunch but they all shake their heads no. One of them says, “Not right now lass, maybe after the first round.”

  I nod, “Let me know if that changes.” I head to the bar to pick up their pints and quickly distribute them among the men, “I will be back as the drinks start to get low.”

  The next table had two men sitting, both regulars that I have seen in a couple of other times. They always come in together. I smile when I walk up, as are the best sort of patrons: they tip well and never make any passes at me. You would be amazed how rare the latter is working as a barmaid. There have been a couple times already that I have had to stop myself from attacking some of the customers after they were too grabby.

  Stann is the town’s lender – he mostly deals in money but occasionally lends equipment or other needs. Den owns the largest market in this village, he deals with traveling merchants and the local farmers to keep a healthy supply of goods always available. They are both bachelors and best friends. I am starting to think maybe something more.

  They are always well dressed and clean, something that is rare in these parts since most of the men spend time working on the farms or doing other outdoor labor.

  Stann is the eccentric one. Today he has a wide-billed hat on, in the latest fashion. The hat is awful, it makes his heads look exponentially smaller, but somehow Stann pulls it off. I guess confidence can make an outfit. Thankfully, the rest of the outfit is more relaxed, the fabric is dark velvet and practical in the cut. Personally, I think it is too warm out to wear that material, but he seems comfortable enough.

  Den’s outfit is a bit more normal. His trousers and shirt are light and loose enough to be comfortable in the weather. They are soft neutral colors of blue and dark tan. It’s funny, they couldn’t look like more opposites today. One is ready for the sun, the other for the gloom.

  I walk up and ask, “What’ll it be today?”

  “Ash, so glad to see you, can you help settle a little bet?” Stann asks me excitedly.

  Den blushes and looks horrified “Stann we can’t ask a lady this.”

  I laugh, “Oh out with it. Don’t worry about offending me, the only parts of me that are a lady are the parts I was born with,” I say with a wink.

  It took a second for them to get the joke, but soon we were all laughing together. It lightened the mood and I could see Den relax slightly. Clearing his throat from the laugh, Stann says, “See, Ash is perfect for this. We can’t tell which of us is more attractive?”

  Not missing a beat, “Should I take your hat into account?”

  Den choked out a laugh, “That’s brutal, Ash!”

  I chuckle with him, “I couldn’t help it. Truly, it’s not that bad of a hat.” Stann looks slightly offended, “Just answer the question.”

  “I can’t. I don’t think of either of you in that way, to me you are both equal.”

  “Oh, come on, you’re supposed to help us settle this bet! How will we know which one of us is more of a catch?” Den asked in mocked outrage.

  Laughing, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t truthfully answer the question. What’s the point anyway, are you fighting over a girl?” I don’t think it’s about a girl, but I do understand the desire to keep secrets and I think they both have one they share.

  “No, nothing like that. We just got bored and decided to figure out which of us was better looking.” Stann said. “Turns out it is harder than we thought to solve.”

  “When you figure it out, you’ll have to let me know. Now what would you like, I have to run to the other tables?”

  Stann replied, “Fine, fine, we will get an answer out of you eventually. You will both take a pint of the finest ale and some lunch. What did Nash make today?” They always ask for the finest ale, but Nash only ever has the one ale on tap.

  “Goat cheese toasted on bread and a tomato based chicken soup. It smells delicious.” I turn to the bar and hold up two quick fingers, catching Nash’s eye.

  “That’s why we like this place, Nash always seems to make some interesting things.”

  “I’ll be right back with your drinks, Nash’ll bring the lunch out as soon as he gets a chance.”

  The rest of the lunch rush was a blur. It’s always steady at the tavern and today was no exception. I kept my ears tuned for any tidbits but nothing notable came out. There were some whispers of a fire from Navan – the town I fled from, but it didn’t seem that any of them knew what caused the fire or what was going on up there. Any news is good though, as it’s a long road between Navan and Cliffden. I will probably start hearing more in the next week. My impatience makes me forget that what I did in three days, typically takes a person a few weeks to travel by horseback.

  I am in a morose mood, thinking of everything I have been through. The world is harsh to shifters, I would call it unfair if it would do anything other than irritate me. It’s just the way of the world. The harshness was why I am so grateful to have found my clan. Before them, I was alone and miserable. We clung to each other for safety and survival but most importantly, for the chance to be ourselves. Belonging to the
clan is the closest I have come to filling the void that was created when I left my family.

  I desperately hope they escaped the attack but I have my doubts. We were hit suddenly by a large group of Ridders – a slang term for the band of vigilantes, whose sole purpose is to rid the world of shifters. Whatever they are doing seems to be working as shifters are becoming increasingly rare. I am not sure if it is causing more of us to go into hiding or if it is affecting the magic that creates shifters in the first place. Whatever the reason is, our numbers are so low now that there is not an accurate count.

  There are stories that in the old days everyone had the capacity to shift and even in my grandparent’s day it was much more common. My grandmother used to claim to have known twenty shifters in her village. That is extraordinary, considering the village only had a hundred people in it. Now, I think I was the only one in this generation in the same village.

  Shifters had always had a dark shadow around them but it has gotten so much worse since the decline. People fear what they don’t understand but despise what they cannot control; which leads to the two main reasons people hate shifters. The first makes even the most sensible of men paranoid, it’s not knowing if the animal near you is in fact, a human in disguise. The second is jealousy. Knowing that everyone has the capacity to shift, yet they did not will make them resentful.

  I have never understood the jealousy. In reality, there is nothing but heartbreak and loneliness awaiting a shifter. Nearly everyone hunts you and hates you.

  In theory, no one is born a shifter, though some people believe that it’s all pre-ordained before you are born. The first shift usually happens in your teenage years, typically between fourteen and twenty-one. There are very rare cases where people have their first shift earlier or later in life. Unfortunately, I was one of the rare ones, with my first shift at eleven.

  Growing up, I was taught to fear meeting a shifter but even more, to fear becoming one. They were the monsters under the bed. We were told numerous horror stories, by everyone. Stories of shifters being hunted down and slaughtered, either because they deserved it or not. Depending on who was talking, the story was either filled with hate or pity, sometimes both. Because of this, you cannot imagine the fear I felt when I first shifted. I was eleven. Not only was I younger than normal, making it unexpected, it also happened on the worst day of my life; the day my twin sister died.