“I did. Is the house still there?” He was only idly curious. But it was a nice memory. He hadn’t thought about Jerimiah and Alsoomse in decades. Geir was never quite one of the People, with his pale skin and reserved manner, but their hearth was filled with warmth and laughter in the bitter cold of winter.
“The house has been expanded and rebuilt, but the fireplace is still there. I live there now.”
Geir remembered that fireplace. They’d packed round stones with limestone and sand to make a simple cement. He had no desire to visit it, though. Like so many simple objects, it had outlived the friends he cared about.
Rohahen wasn’t deterred. “You’re still part of the tribe. If you ever wanted to come back, you’d still be welcome.”
Geir said nothing. He was surprised that Rohahen had said it all so plainly, since no one had approached him in decades. Probably it was because of whoever was bothering them. They wanted him as an ally.
He wasn’t going to break the pact. But being a part of the tribe? There were too many people. Too much work. They all died anyway.
He just wanted to be alone with Declan.
He gave another grunt, then turned his eyes to watch Declan chasing around a squealing child and tossing her into the air.
Maybe May could come over more often.
Chapter 19
Declan
Declan put down his book on the back of the couch. He was staying near the kitchen because he was making granola and had to keep switching out the batches in the oven. The whole house smelled of cinnamon and honey, and he wished Geir could be there to appreciate it.
But Geir had wandered off again and he was feeling… bored? Lonely? Something.
He looked out the window. The trees were beautiful. The lake was gorgeous. Even the dated cabin he was standing in and the rusty pickup truck had a rustic charm.
But he didn’t feel like drawing them today. The quiet had been a nice vacation for the first few weeks. Now he needed something to do.
And people. He didn’t miss any one person in particular. Certainly not Mike or any of his friends. But he missed people. He knew he was an extrovert, but he hadn’t realized how much he needed the energy of people around him until now.
He thought about looking for Geir, but he wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. He’d come across him a few other times, just sitting there and “waiting,” or whatever that creepy trance-like state was. Finding him motionless still scared Declan every time, like he might just forget to move ever again.
If he were a robot, it would have made more sense. Declan pondered the idea for a few moments. He imagined Geir pushing an off switch embedded in the back of his own neck.
Then Declan was the only one who could turn him on.
Declan chuckled to himself about the unintentional pun.
It wasn’t quite as funny, though, when there was a grain of truth to it. Geir’s mind worked differently than his. Maybe differently than any human’s. But his humanity was still evident.
What worried him most was the Guide’s story about how involved Geir used to be. Was the “off switch” new?
If it was something Geir needed, that was totally fine. Animals hibernated. Hell, people slept. And he vaguely knew that lizards and things went into a torpor when it got too cold or something.
But that wasn’t the sense Declan got. When Geir left, he looked determined sometimes. Wistful at others. Maybe even a little frustrated. What he didn’t look like was happy or relaxed.
Was it Declan’s place to do something about that? If Declan had the power of the maiden in the legend, maybe he could bring back some sort of metaphorical spring. He didn’t have any magic, though, just being flirty and talking too much.
He thought he’d made it pretty clear that he wanted Geir around, though. All the time, preferably.
If Geir was here right now, they could cuddle on the couch. Maybe he could convince Geir to tell him a story from his endlessly long history. Or just read together. God, maybe one day they could get a TV and watch a show.
No, he had a better idea. One with a lot more tentacles and Declan on his knees. They could have a race to see if he could get Geir to come in the time it took a batch of granola to bake. That would be perfect.
Just then, the timer went off and Declan transferred the cereal to the board to cool and put in a new batch. If Geir came home right now, he could totally make it in the next cycle.
Of course, Geir didn’t come home. He could be gone for another few minutes or the rest of the day. Declan just never knew.
Declan went back to the couch, dreaming up steamy scenes for Geir’s return. He still wanted to introduce Geir to porn. Geir hadn’t backed away from a single one of Declan’s fantasies yet, but there were so many more out there. Maybe starting with tentacles…
A knock came at the door, startling Declan out of his thoughts. He raced to open it. He knew it wasn’t Geir, because he wouldn’t knock, but any company would be awesome.
Right at the doorknob he hesitated, though. What if it was those creepy guys from the grocery store? Or another secret agent from their spy ring? Geir had even told him that people kidnapped shifters. What if they wanted to take Declan away and torture him until he revealed all of his secrets?
“Geir? Declan?” Ro’s deep voice came through the door.
Of course, Declan was being silly again. He welcomed Ro in and sank down to the couch. “Hey! I didn’t hear your truck.”
“Yeah, I came through the woods today.”
Declan would totally walk through the woods if he thought he wouldn’t get lost. He was still a little wary of walking down the highway. It sucked that he wasn’t a shifter. “Were you a bison?” he asked.
“Coyote, today.”
“Man, that is so cool. Can I see you shift sometime? Where do you keep your clothes? What does it feel like? Oh, hey. Do you want some granola? You could have it with milk or yogurt.”
Ro waved his hand, slowing him down. “If that’s granola, I would love some. With yogurt, please. I didn’t bring you any fruit today because I came by on a whim.”
“Thanks for coming! I was bored out of my mind. And lonely. Tell me about shifting.” Declan got up and prepared two servings while Ro talked.
“Well, I kept my clothes in this bag,” Ro held up a thin, brown polyester bag, “and I can loop it over my head or carry it in my mouth. Otherwise, I’m not sure what to tell you. It’s just like being a coyote.”
Nope. That wasn’t a good enough explanation. “Does everything look the same?” Declan handed Ro a bowl.
“No, actually. Mostly because I can’t see anything in the distance. And colors are different. I can see blue and yellow, but anything that would be red or green just looks gray.”
“Wow. I’d love to paint that, sometime. Like a coyote’s view of the world.”
“I don’t think about color as much, though. My nose can tell me the history of wherever I am, at least for the past few days if it hasn’t rained. And this is really good, by the way.” Ro gestured with his spoon.
“Thanks! I wonder if I could work scents into the painting somehow. Maybe painting in the layers of events, or even mixing essential oils into the paints… Man, I’ve had so many good ideas since I got here.”