Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters (19 page)

Taking a moment she gave him
a quick once-over. He looked good, she'd give him that. Green again. The shirt
was green and made of soft, fine cotton. She'd admired the soft feel of the
fabric when her arms slid around his neck earlier. The black slacks fell
loosely down his long, muscular legs. She would have giggled, like she had the
other day, had she not prepared herself for the shoes. He wore the same black
Doc Martens-style shoes with the large golden buckles. She made a mental note
to ask about the shoes, if it came to the point where she was comfortable
enough with him to do so.

"Well, what do you
know," Shamus said, brushing up against her as he made his way to the curb,
waving his hand to signal the cab coming down the street, in their direction.

"What are the
chances?" Suzanne whispered awestricken as the bright yellow cab with the
name
Boston's Finest
slowed as it approached them.

"Quite good with luck on
our side." Shamus gave her a wide, friendly smile and a wink.

Suzanne found herself
chuckling as she hobbled to the curb just as the cab pulled up.

Shamus opened the back door
for her, placing a hand on her elbow to assist her into the car. Once in, he
slid in beside her and closed the door.

"The nearest open
service station please," Suzanne requested as she relaxed back in the
worn, cracked leather of the back seat. At that moment she felt the intense
throbbing on the soles of her feet; the back of the cab couldn't have felt
better than if it were the back of a posh limo. A sigh escaped her lips as she
let her head fall back against the headrest and closed her eyes momentarily.

She tilted her head to the
right to look at him. He seemed to sense her observing him and met her gaze.
His eyes were warm, kind, and seemed to hold a mischievous glimmer in them.
Looking over his wardrobe, simple yet finely tailored, she seriously doubted he
lived in this area. But where
did
he come from?

She decided she had to find
out. "So do you live around here Shamus?"

He smiled then shook his
head. "No."

Hmm, so you're not going
to reveal that information so easily huh
?
In that case,
I'll just ask you directly
. "So where do you live, if you don't mind
me asking?" The taxi drove past the station she was planning on walking
to. It was closed. She was again thankful she had come across Shamus and the
cab, since she had no idea where the next station would be.

"Leprechaun
Valley," Shamus replied simply, not offering any more information than that.

"Hey, Miss. I think
there's a station a few miles from here. Keep going?" the cabbie asked
from the front seat.

"Oh yes, please,"
Suzanne replied then focused her attention back on Shamus, asking: "Where
exactly
is
Leprechaun Valley?" She had no idea. Never realized such
a place existed, let alone being a location in the greater Boston area. Perhaps
it was an area people had just nicknamed Leprechaun Valley? Why, she had no
idea, but perhaps.

"In the mystical
dimension," Shamus responded, straight-faced and in a tone that made her
believe he was quite serious.

Suzanne paused for a moment,
then laughed lightly. She slapped his knee playfully. "No seriously. I
honestly have no idea where that is."

"The mystical dimension.
All mystical beings live in that dimension, but most are able to travel to the
human realm whenever it is necessary." Shamus gave her a broad smile, but
again the look in his eyes revealed he was quite serious.

Suzanne quit laughing and
looked at him, puzzled. She deducted that either he simply didn't want her to
know where he lived, had terrible judgment about when to end a joke, or perhaps
needed to see a doctor. The special kind. She shuffled in her seat an inch or
so away from him. Until she cleared up which of the three options he was, she
wanted to keep her distance.

She had a close friend who
worked in a psychiatric facility and had heard many tales of how people who
lived in alternate realities could snap for no reason. She wasn't about to be
in the line of fire if that moment were to come for Shamus while she was
sitting next to him in a
Boston's Finest
cab.

But he didn't
look
crazy. Though did crazy people usually look the part? Some did, she supposed;
take Bart who enjoyed singing to the pigeons in his boxers, in the center of the
Boston Commons. His hair matted and sticking straight up, as if he had just
been electrocuted. He certainly looked crazy, even to the gleam in his eyes as
he sang whatever rap song came into his mind. Bart preferred Eminem, but she'd
heard him giving his version of DMX songs as well, from time to time.

Shamus didn't have the gleam
in his eyes that Bart had. His face, his tone of voice, all pointed to a person
who was in touch with reality. Her best guess was that he simply didn't know
when to end a joke. Or deliver one for that matter.

Her eyes scanned him from
those horribly absurd shoes right up to his sexy dark brown eyes. Considering
how amazingly sexy the man was, in combination with the fact that he had helped
her twice now in the course of a week, she supposed she should cut him a break
when it came to the poor comic material and delivery.

Finally deciding that's what
it was, Suzanne allowed herself to relax once more in the seat beside him.
She'd drop it for now, it wasn't really relevant at the present time anyhow,
she decided as the cab began to pull into another service station, which
included several bays for car repairs, one currently sitting open.

As the car pulled to a halt
in front of the station door, Shamus leaned over the seat and passed several
crisp bills to the cab driver. "That should about cover it," he said,
opening the car door to exit.

Suzanne heard the cabbie
mutter thanks as she scooted across the seat and exited the same door as Shamus
had. She noticed a colourful spark emit from her palm as he took her hand to
assist her out of the car. The spark lasted mere seconds but she was certain it
was there, just as it had been a couple of times before.

Shamus closed the door behind
her and ushered her into the service station, his hand resting protectively on
the small of her back. His eyes refused to meet her questioning ones as they
walked.
Perhaps I'm the crazy one? Seeing sparks of rainbows?
Just
thinking the thought made her feel foolish.

However, once they were in
the station and he finally met her gaze, she knew he had felt and seen it, just
as well as she had. He didn't look surprised. Not surprised like she did; his
expression was more one of puzzlement than anything, if Suzanne had to narrow
down the look to one emotion.

Shamus made an attempt to
direct her to the front counter where a twenty-something pink-haired girl stood
waiting for them, but she refused to budge from her spot. "Did you see
that, when our hands touched?"

He laughed. "Like I said
the other day, it must be our magical connection."

Suzanne watched him for a
moment; watched him as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the
other. He was joking, had to be joking, but why would he try to make a joke of
something that was quite real? He knew what it was, she was sure of it. Why the
secrecy?

Suzanne positioned herself
between Shamus and the reception desk, her back turned to the girl, shielding
what she was about to do. "Look," she demanded of him as she reached
out and grabbed his hands in hers bringing them, flesh on flesh, up to chest
level, but still concealed from prying eyes.

Shamus watched, as she
watched. It lasted just mere seconds, but it was there without a doubt. She was
certain of that now. As their bare hands wrapped around each other a spark that
could almost be described as a shimmer of multi-coloured light emerged from the
spots where their bare flesh touched. This time however, the spark was more
intense, sending a shock wave of pleasure through her, which ended in a
pulsating between her legs. Suzanne gasped and stepped away, looking up into
his eyes. Surely he had felt that, seen that!

"Let's deal with your
car now. Then we can discuss that." Shamus gave her a reassuring smile,
brushed past her and headed for the front counter to the pink-haired girl
wearing a blue windbreaker with the name “Tony's Repairs” embroidered on it, in
white stitching.

Suzanne followed behind
Shamus, deep in thought. It didn't occur to her at the time to inquire as to
how Shamus was able to tell the girl the location of the vehicle. Her mind was
spinning. What was he hiding from her? What were those colours she kept seeing?

Once he was done speaking
with the girl behind the counter Shamus spun back around to face her. "It
just occurred to me that I have an appointment I have to make it to," he
said, giving her a wry grin. "I'm already late actually." He nodded
back to the girl behind the counter. "It's all taken care of. I'll be
seeing you soon Suzanne." He brushed past her, walking at a brisk pace.

What is going on?
she
thought but what came out of her mouth was, "Shamus wait!"

He didn't. Instead he walked
out of the front door and disappeared around the corner of the building.

Moving as quickly as her
aching feet would allow and with a broken heel, she chased after him and out
into the parking lot. She scanned the lot and beyond. He was gone. As if he had
disappeared into thin air.

"He only had a few
seconds’ head start," she muttered to herself, placing her hands on her
hips in frustration.

Annoyed, she hobbled back
into the service station, and waited for them to bring her car in for the
repair.

Chapter 3

As Shamus followed the narrow
trail through the forest behind his home, as he often did when he needed to
think, his thoughts focused on Suzanne. He felt bad for leaving her like he
had. But he needed to. Needed to get out of there, before she asked more
questions he wasn't sure he was ready to answer. At least, not yet.

He
had
felt the
intensity of the touch they had shared earlier that day, just as she had. There
was a stirring in his groin just thinking about it. It wasn't supposed to
happen with a human. The spark. It should have happened with a faerie or a
nymph or some other mystical being, but not a human. During their first meeting
he assumed, or hoped, that the spark was a simple fluke. But it was confirmed
for him now. It was real and meant they were destined for each other.

A leprechaun and a human,
who'd have thought that?
He mulled over the idea as he
continued to walk. The trail he was following led to a river. There was nothing
special or enchanted about the river. It was simply a place that he found
soothing. The trickling sound as the water moved downstream put him at ease and
allowed him to think clearly.

He came to the edge of the
water and sat down on the bank, his back against a large willow tree that, over
the decades, had grown to reach up and over the width of the water. Shamus
closed his eyes and allowed the soothing sounds of nature to put his racing
mind to rest.

"Could you be using some
company lad?" asked a familiar male voice behind him.

Shamus looked up, covering
his eyes from the glare of the sun, to see his old friend Cass. "Take a
seat friend," he replied, motioning to the grass next to him.

Cass was nearly as tall as
Shamus, standing at close to six feet, and lean – too lean in Shamus's
opinion. He had found himself thinking more than once that perhaps Cass should
spend less time with the liquor and more time having a decent meal. Alas, Cass
had about a century on him in years so Shamus was in no position to judge an
elder leprechaun's fondness of the drink.

"You settled up with the
charge I see," Cass commented as he seated himself next to Shamus.

"Yes and no."

Cass's brow furrowed as he
considered the answer. "What do you mean by that?"

"The luck I sent to her
last week didn't seem to stick, so I had to visit her a second time. Today as
it so happens."

"It happens," Cass
replied with a shrug.

"When I touched her, the
connection triggered the spark." Shamus looked out into the water and
heaved a loud sigh. He watched a moment as the sunlight danced over the small
waves, causing shimmers of light to skim the surface of the river.

"Come again?"

"
The
spark. I
received it when our skin touched," he made it a point to accent
the
so
Cass would know the gravity of the situation.

Cass shook his head.
"It's not possible. We cannot share the spark with a human. It's unheard
of. You must have been mistaken."

"The first time I
assumed it was a mistake, perhaps an odd occurrence that would never happen
again. But it did. Earlier today." Shamus put a hand on his friend’s
shoulder and looked into his disbelieving brown eyes. "Not only did I
see
it, but I
felt
it."

Cass ran a hand through his
thick black hair, exhaling a loud puff of breath between his teeth. "I've
never heard tell of such a thing." He reached into the inside pocket of
his green tweed vest and pulled out a gold flask, twisted the top off and took
a hearty swig, before placing the flask into Shamus's hand. "Here. ’Twill
help clear your mind."

Shamus accepted, bringing the
flask to his lips and taking an equally hearty swig himself. The liquid burned
its way down his throat. "What
is
that stuff Cass?"

Cass chuckled, taking the
flask back and having another swig before replacing the cap. "My own
secret recipe."

"Well your secret is
safe with me. There's no way I would subject myself or any other living being
to that stuff." Shamus grimaced; the burning in his throat seemed to
linger.
Never trust a leprechaun with a golden flask of alcohol
, Shamus
thought, amused.

"So about this
spark." Cass rubbed his chin for a moment in contemplation. "You say
you felt the... well the jolt?"

Shamus threw back his head
and laughed. "Yes. I saw the rainbow spark and I felt the jolt. She did as
well. I could see it in her eyes. She kept asking about it. If I knew what it
was."

"Hmmm. Interesting. You
know I had a little fun with a human once, about a century or so ago."

Shamus turned his eyes away
from the stream to look at his buddy, a questioning eyebrow raised. "You
did...with a human?"

"Her name was Victoria.
Beautiful female, for a human. I was the one that got lucky with that
charge," he nudged Shamus in the ribs with his elbow, giving him a wink.
"If you get what I'm saying."

Shamus laughed once more.
"I have an idea, yes."

"Nothing wrong with
getting it out of your system, Shamus. Most of us have a liking for a human
from time to time. Is she sweet on the eye?"

Shamus let his mind wander to
Suzanne for a moment as he contemplated the question. She was quite beautiful,
though maybe not in the way humans judge women in their society. The humans’
idea of beauty seemed distorted to him. Women were expected to be so thin that
you could barely see an ounce of fat on their body. Skinny to the point they appeared
almost sickly to him.

Suzanne looked healthy,
radiant, with a nice curvy hourglass-type figure. Her straight shoulder-length
chestnut brown hair framed her heart-shaped face, with those large bright blue
eyes. She was indeed, as Cass would put it, sweet on the eye.

"But the spark,
Cass."

The older leprechaun stood
and brushed the dirt from his black trousers. "It's useless to pursue a
human for anything other than our duties or for a little fun. Mortals cannot
travel to the mystical realm and if you were to stay there you'd age as a
mortal would. Eventually you'd die of old age Shamus, or worse," Cass's
dark eyes caught Shamus's with a stern stare. "You already know this.
Spark or no spark, don't pursue it. Heed my warning. Do the job you were meant
to do; put her back on her path and walk away."

Shamus nodded, directing his
eyes back to look out at the flowing water beside him. He heard Cass's
footsteps walk away from him but kept his attention focused on the shimmering
light skipping over the water. Cass was right. He needed to simply walk away.
Finish the job. It just didn't
feel
right to walk away. If his duty was
to use luck to help correct a human's life and send them back on the right path
to their destiny, then how could he ignore the fact he was supposed to be part
of that destiny?

****

Suzanne drummed her
fingernails on the top of her desk. It was Monday morning and she had spent the
weekend trying to figure out the mystery surrounding the sexy, mysterious
Shamus. After they had arrived at the service station he had exited in such a
hurry, she hadn't had a chance to even thank him, or more importantly get to
the bottom of the “mystical connection” idea he had jokingly referred to them
having.

She looked up from her desk
to the call tracker on the center of the call center's white ceiling.
Eighty-six flashed in bright red numbers signalling there were eighty-six
unhappy customers waiting to be served. She was so glad that she only had
thirty minutes left before quitting time.

Suzanne had had the worst of
luck when it came to callers today. It seemed as though each and every one of
them was nastier than the last. She had gotten to the point where she didn't
know if she had the courage to push the
active
button and take another
call today. Normally she could take the anger, threats, degrading treatment she
received from the callers, but not today. Her head was pounding so hard it felt
like it was about to split in two.

Taking a deep breath, her
finger hovered over the
active
button. Just as she was in the process of
pressing it someone appeared behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. Quickly,
Suzanne jerked her hand back away from the dreaded button and let out a sigh of
relief. Spinning her chair around, she came face to face with Gretchen, her
supervisor.

Gretchen looked as she
usually did, formal and businesslike in a Sears pant suit and her hair held
tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Suzanne guessed she was somewhere in
her fifties, but she always thought that if Gretchen didn't adopt such a severe
look, then perhaps she'd look much younger.

"I need to see you in my
office ASAP," Gretchen said, turning on her heel and marching back to her
corner office on the other side of the room, not bothering to wait for Suzanne.

Switching her telephone's
status from
personal
to
meeting
Suzanne removed the headset from
her ears and shook her hair loose of the ponytail she had it in. Each time she
took the headset off she felt like she was being freed. For the majority of
nine hours a day, five days, sometimes six days a week she was a prisoner of
Comm-Itel Com, tethered to a telephone via a four-foot cord from the headset
making her feel like a prisoner. For those hours she was told when to eat, when
to use the washroom and when she could finally leave at the end of the day. If
that wasn't like prison she didn't know what was.

Again, she found herself
thinking she needed a new job
. I always wanted to try being a waitress
,
she mused as she made her way to Gretchen's office,
or perhaps a cook in a
kitchen.
With the
economy as it was currently, even those jobs were
limited in numbers. At least for the time being, the people of Boston were
grateful for the work they had. As she made her way past her co-workers’ desks
heading towards her destination, she felt a hint of guilt for hating a job many
applied and were rejected for each day.

"Close the door
Suzanne," Gretchen ordered as Suzanne made her way across the threshold
and into her office.

Nodding she did as she was
asked and took a seat at the other side of Gretchen's desk, which had a number
of papers littering it, presumably for her to sign off on. Suzanne looked down
at the papers then up at Gretchen.

Her supervisor got straight
to the gist of it right away.

"We're bringing each of
the employees in one by one about this. We're hoping to keep this hush-hush so
your discretion until all are informed would be appreciated," Gretchen
began. "As of the end of next week all calls are going to be outsourced to
India and the center will be closing."

Suzanne looked at her boss
with a mixture of emotions running through her. Fear, surprise, relief, even
happiness. She had no idea what she was going to do once she finished here, it
was horrible luck, but at the same time maybe she needed to be forced to leave
in order to find something new. Something better.

Her boss continued to drone
on about the company, its reasons and so forth but she didn't care. She just
wanted to sign the forms and leave for the day. She looked up at the clock on
her boss's wall. Five minutes until quitting time.

Gretchen finally finished her
rehearsed speech, which Suzanne assumed had been given dozens of times that day
and allowed Suzanne to sign the necessary papers and leave.

Everything happens for a
reason Suzanne
, she told herself as she packed up her
belongings and exited the Comm-Intel Com building. She needed time to think and
she knew just the place to do it.