The Changeling (Book One of The Síofra Chronicles) (5 page)

My cell phone buzzed, so I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen.

Good morning, beautiful
.

The number was unfamiliar
.

Who is this?
   It was only a moment later when the response came.

Dom.  This is
me using your number ;)

A small smile played at my lips, and I felt grateful for the real, live guy who was sending me ‘good morning ‘texts.  I pushed the memory of Aleksander and my dream to the back of my mind.

True.  Although this hardly counts as morning. I've been up for hours
.

I stared at the drawing in the book while I waited for his reply, tracing my fingers over the ink.  I knew for a fact that I had never seen this book before.  How had I managed to dream this exact scene?  I bet Aleksander would tell me that
a Síofra had drawn it.  He seemed to have an answer for everything, but he was a figment of my imagination, so of course he would know which answers would pacify my curiosity, wouldn't he? 

Well I'm just getting up but I could use some coffee and I want to see you again so let’s kill two birds with one stone. 

I looked at the book in front of me, knowing that I wouldn't find what I was looking for here.  I wasn’t ready to pass up a real, live guy for some random figment of my imagination. 

Sounds good. I have an hour before work.  Meet you at Creekside in 20
.  I replied, indicating the coffee shop next to the bookstore. 

I closed the book and walked to the kiosk at the front to check it out.  I wasn’t getting any answers from it, but I wanted more time to study the ink drawing. I had already known that it was only a dream, hadn't I? Yet in some small way, it had been nice to think, even as remote as a possibility as that had been, that I was special. Unique somehow, set aside for something greater.

As it stood, I was only Cassie Marshall, a nineteen-year-old college freshman with no major and no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I left the library with the thick volume on Celtic mythology in my bag and headed to meet Dom at the coffee shop, feeling oddly deflated and painfully ordinary.

Chapter Six

I made it to the coffee shop in good time, enjoying the brisk October weather, and darted in the glass double doors.  Removing my jacket, I scanned the room for Dom.  I let my gaze roam over the small line in front of the coffee bar and tried not to let it linger too long on the glass display of pastries.  There were small wooden tables scattered around the room and tall booths with dark leather that matched the paneling on the walls, but I didn’t see Dom in any of them.  I had beaten him there. The shop wasn't crowded at the moment, being almost eleven on a Saturday morning.  The early risers had already had their caffeine fix and the late bloomers were probably still asleep, nursing hangovers from the night before.

Sliding into a dark booth at the back of the room, I pulled the mythology book out of my bag and opened it in front of me.  There hadn't been any relevant information on Otherworld or the Dreaming, but I was intrigued by the book’s description of faeries and wanted to reread that section.  The pen and ink drawings displayed faces of ethereal beauty and eyes that spoke of patience and wisdom.  Wacky dreams aside, the mythology was fascinating, and I told myself that my interest was purely academic.

There is nothing wrong with learning more about mythology
, I reminded myself, tapping my fingertips over the top of the table in a quick staccato beat. Perhaps this was a delusional breakdown in response to being away from home for the first time. Perhaps I was losing it.  

Perhaps it is real
. Ugh. I was starting to give myself a headache. 

"Good book?" a masculine voice interrupted, putting a halt to my inner turmoil. 

I looked up from the book to see Dom sliding into the booth across from me, that charming half smile on his face.  He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans today, slightly rumpled and entirely sexy. His scruffy facial hair and unkempt hair gave him the appearance of having just rolled out of bed looking like he was heading to a photo shoot. 

Must be nice,
I thought rather uncharitably, absentmindedly reaching behind me and running my fingers through my own simple ponytail.  I felt downright dowdy all of a sudden with my ponytail and my sweatshirt.  Hell, I hadn't even powdered my nose before leaving the house this morning.  

"You can say that," I murmured, closing the cover of the book. 

Dom reached out and picked it up, his eyes scanning the title before flicking the deep blue orbs up in my direction, humor dancing in his eyes. "Celtic Myths and Faerie Lore?" he asked with a smirk, reading the title out loud.  "Don't tell me you're researching art for a lower back tattoo?  I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm all for adolescent rebellion in the form of permanent body art, but I didn't have you pegged for the type."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "No. I'm not into rebelling via tattoos or any other form of body modification or anything that permanent. This is for research for a paper I'm writing." 

I took the book from his hands and stuffed it into my bag before he could take it back.  The lie had felt uncomfortable on my tongue, and I wasn't sure why I’d felt the need to fib about a book in the first place, but I wasn’t about to tell Dom that I was obsessing over a vivid dream that had me half convinced I was losing it.  No need to send him running for the hills yet.

"So no piercings or hidden tats, huh?"

I could see the teasing glint in his blue eyes and smiled, feeling my cheeks warming under his gaze.

"No. 
One hole in each ear. That's about as brave as I ever got.  What about you?"  I tried to catch the waitress’s eye from across the room but seemed to be failing.  The sweet smell of the coffee was starting to make my stomach rumble, and I was finding it harder to keep my eyes off of the pastry case.

"No to the body piercings, yes to the tattoos." He slid the sleeve of his white t-shirt up over his shoulder, exposing a delicate and intricate band of ink encircling his upper arm.  The tattoo swirled and wove in and out of itself in a pattern I was utterly unable to follow.  I imagined that a tattoo with that level of detail must have taken a great deal of time and money to complete. 

"That's beautiful," I said, reaching across the table to trace the lines with my fingertips.  My breath caught in my throat as I ran them over the delicate patterns.  He didn't say anything, watching me quietly as I explored his arm. “What is it?”

“It’s a Celtic knot,” he smiled at me, his eyes sparkling.  “It signifies eternity and the endless nature of the spirit.”

I jerked my eyes up to meet him, wondering what the odds were that he would have a tattoo from the same culture I was currently obsessing over.

“Tribals are overdone,” he grinned. “And when I saw this in the artist’s portfolio, I knew I wanted it.”

"So what's it going to be?" an overly cheerful voice interrupted, the quiet concentration with which I was studying his tattoo now gone.  I started, sitting back into my seat and stuffing my hand under the table and onto my lap.

"Just a black coffee for me," Dom said, his eyes never leaving mine.  Heat rushed to my cheeks.  There was something about the way he looked at me that left me unsettled.  Not in the same way that my imaginary guardian had, but comforting and pleasant. 

"And you?" she asked, rocking on the balls of her feet as she awaited my order.  She looked like she had been sampling her wares and was ready to bounce off the walls. 

I gave my order, tearing my gaze away from Dom's with no small amount of effort. "Drip coffee—two creams, two sugars please—and a bear claw from the pastry case." 

Dom winked at the waitress and she tittered as she left to get our order.  I couldn't help but laugh at the realization that I wasn't far off from having the same reaction when he talked to me. 

"So tell me about yourself," I asked.

"Not much to tell. I don’t have much of a relationship with my family, and I’m doing my best to enjoy the college experience while I'm young enough to enjoy it.  I'm more interested in you. Tell me more about yourself, Cassie. What should I know about you?"

I arched an eyebrow at him.  That was a clever dodge of the question, but I assumed he must have had something personal he wasn't ready to share, and I wasn't exactly the type of person to prod.

"Hmm, what should you know about me?  Well, I'm a middle child.  I have an older brother named Elliott.  He's in the Army in Kentucky, and he fixes helicopters.  My little sister Brittany is still in high school, so she lives with my mom and dad down in the valley.  I'm a Libra. I think Firefly never should have been canceled and that the Ninth Doctor is the best out of the bunch."

I smiled at the waitress as she slid our drinks in front of us and handed me my plate with the sugar-laden bear claw. She gave Dom a blinding smile and bounced back behind the counter.   I stirred my coffee and took a sip.  Strong and sweet—exactly how I liked it. 

"Does your sister have your amazing green eyes?" Dom asked, leaning over the table on his elbows and staring into my eyes.

"No," I smirked as I put my cup back on the saucer in front of me and picked up the donut.   "As a matter of fact, my brother used to tease me about them. He would tell me I was left on the doorstep or under a rock, depending on which version of his story he felt like telling me that day.  He made me cry more than once, the jerk.  My mom says I have a great aunt on my father's side who had hazel eyes, so I figure they're a genetic anomaly in my family."

All Fae have the same telltale green eyes
, I could hear Aleksander whisper in my ear. 
It's the only physical trait that marks you as a Fae
. I frowned and stuffed a chunk of the sugary treat in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully and trying unsuccessfully to banish the thought from my mind.

Dom's blue eyes lit up.  "A genetic anomaly? So are you a mutant, Cassie Marshall?" he teased. "Should I be worried about kissing you for fear you'll drain my life? Any super healing factors or other freaky mutant powers I should be concerned about?"

I chortled and barely managed to swallow before I choked. I took a sip of my coffee and tried to ignore the wild beating of my heart at the sudden mental image of Dom kissing me.  Except in my imagination, it wasn't Dom's blue eyes leaning in toward me, but Aleksander's green ones. I needed to get a grip immediately.

"You're calling me a mutant?" I snickered, trying for lighthearted and probably sounding more like braying donkey.  Mutant was better than changeling. "Sorry to say, no professors in wheelchairs have ever invited me to join their special academy for super special kids.  I’m just a run-of-the-mill nerd."

"Oh I love me some nerdy girls. Now the real question is… I die—what do you do?"

I laughed genuinely now.  "I collect the dragon balls and wish you back to life."

"She's a keeper!" Dom yelled, standing up with his arms raised triumphantly, earning startled looks and glares from the other patrons, and sending me into peals of laughter. 

"Sit down and drink your coffee," I chuckled, my crazy dreams forgotten for the moment. No way was I passing up a real guy who could make me laugh and feel silly and young for a dream guy with a pond full of crazy. 

Dom settled back into his seat, a wide smile on his face as he drank his coffee.  He opened his mouth to speak but found himself interrupted by my phone alarm trilling its warning tone.

I sighed, pulling it from my bag and turning the alarm off. 

"I'm so sorry to cut this short," I explained, rummaging through my purse for my wallet so I could pay the waitress for my drink, "but I've got to get to work.  If I'm late, Sharon will have a conniption."

"Ah, the Dragon Lady," Dom nodded solemnly.  "I can understand why you would want to stay under her radar.”  He pushed my hand away from the table as I tried to lay down a ten-dollar bill on the table.  "My treat."

"Crazy cat lady is more like, and I can't let you do that."

"No. I said it’s my treat and so it i
s.  You can pay next time,” he promised.

"Have it your way," I grinned, happy that he wanted there to be a next time, and stuffed my wallet back into my bag.

I slid out of the booth at the same time he did and found myself face to face with him. Or rather face to chest.  He smelled amazing, and I had to resist the urge to bury my face in his shirt and sniff him like a stray dog.   He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, drawing me into a hug, my face smashing into his amazing chest.

"Can I call you this evening?" he asked, the side of his mouth tipping up in what might almost look like a nervous smile on anyone other than Dom.  He always looked self-assured. 

"Not tonight.  I’m supposed to hang out with my roommate and our friend.  I'll give you a shout soon though?" 

The gold in his eyes seemed to grow brighter and he frowned for an instant before forcing his face back into a smile.  "Yeah, sure. But don’t forget me, Cassie. Enjoy your day at the office.”

"I can try. I'll probably fail though, just so you know. The office part, not the forgetting part,” I stuttered.  “You’re kind of hard to forget.”

He grinned at me and I returned the smile, draining my coffee and slinging my bag over my shoulder as I reached for what was left of my bear claw with the other hand.  Dom's hand shot out and snatched it from the plate just as my fingers were grazing the glaze.  I shot him a dirty look as he stuffed
my
donut in his mouth and winked at me as he chewed.

"What? I'm a growing boy!" he cheered.  I fixed him with my death stare as he sucked the glaze off his fingertips one by one. “You should get going before you're late though.  I'm sure Dragon Lady would love to put your feet to the fire. "

I looked at my watch.  Damn it all. He was right.  I glared at him once more before I scurried out of the coffee shop and headed into work.

He was sexy and funny, and he made me laugh with his irreverent nature.  I would most definitely be texting
him later.  That was, if Sharon didn't kill me for running late. 

***

Work sucked as per usual.  Sharon was in a snit over something completely unrelated to me but chose to make my day hell anyway. After five hours of monotony, I dragged my sorry self back home, exhausted and swearing I was going to find a new job before I lost my temper and quit.  All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with my book and reread the descriptions.  I wasn't sure if I was looking for confirmation that it had been a vivid dream or not, but I couldn't shake my growing obsession.

Miguel and Becca were waiting for me when I got home, dashing my plans. So instead of my book, I curled up on the couch and listened to Miguel extol the virtues of Ray, the good-looking blond guy he had been laying his game on the night before. 

I loved seeing my friend happy, his dark eyes dancing with excitement as he described the texts and phone calls they had been exchanging all day long. It seemed that Ray was as mushy and sentimental as my friend.  Miguel was over the moon and it was only the second day. 

Not that I was any better.  As he rehashed their first kiss for the third time that evening, I found my thoughts drifting to Dom and our coffee this morning.  I had enjoyed spending time with him but couldn't imagine gushing to my friends about him the way Miguel was gushing about Ray.  I wasn't exactly the kiss-and-tell type, which was irrelevant as there had been no kissing to talk about. Not that I would have talked if there had been kissing going on. I wasn't even sure that Dom had any interest in kissing me anyway.  He hadn't given any indication that he was interested in me in that way, and I realized that I was obsessing as much as Miguel was.