His senses took him to Quay Street, which was already packed with both tourists and locals. He wandered down the cobblestone streets among the bright storefronts.
Then, he felt him again. He was close, really close.
Near an outdoor bistro serving traditional Irish food, he found the shifter.
He sat there with his body crammed between a chair and a small wooden table. He was still in his pilot’s uniform. He was a big male, even bigger than Eli, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was alone, and he was staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused. Only a mug of coffee sat in front of him.
Eli did not want to startle him, but the shifter gave no indication that he had noticed Eli was there.
The name tag on his uniform shirt read, Captain Owen Kaplan.
“Owen.” From ten feet away, Eli called his name in a loud, steady voice, thinking that would be less jarring than pulling up a chair and sitting down across from him.
Owen’s head jerked up. His eyes met Eli’s.
He sat up straighter, but made no other movements.
Eli came closer. He didn’t sense any aggression from the other dragon at all.
He reached the table, and the dragon still hadn’t moved. His eyes followed Eli’s movements, and his expression was wary.
“Hello.” Eli spoke in English, hoping Owen would understand. If he didn’t, Spanish was the only other language he was familiar with. “Mind if I sit down?” Eli touched the back of the empty chair but didn’t pull it out.
The shifter shook his head.
“Thanks,” Eli said. “I’m Eli. I was on the flight with you.”
The other shifter just nodded. He didn’t offer his name.
“Does that happen often?” Maybe the pilot was unfazed because having a shifter on the plane was commonplace for him. Maybe he had one on the plane every day, whereas Eli’s day-to-day interactions were very routine. He came in contact with the same people day in and day out. He was with his coworkers at the lab and his clan, and occasionally left town for a conference like this one. Yet he’d never encountered another dragon shifter on those trips.
“No,” Owen said.
Eli had been told by his clan that he was reserved. And it was true that he wasn’t quite as chatty as most of his family and friends, but he was way more talkative than this guy.
Eli didn’t have the causal charm or the outgoing manner that many of his family had either. He’d always been the most uptight out of all of them, but it was clear that he was going to have to find a way to relate to this guy if he wanted any answers at all.
“How often would you say it happens?”
Owen took a sip of his coffee. “Almost never.”
Okay. He needed a different strategy. When he hit a roadblock in the lab, he would regroup and examine his methodology. He just needed a different approach here. Asking questions wasn’t working. He would try being the one to give information.
“I’m from a little town in Oregon,” Eli said. He didn’t want to give the exact location yet. “I’m a doctor, and I’m here for a medical conference specializing in genetics. We’ve been working on some pretty specialized projects, and I’m hoping to get some input from my colleagues.” The guy was still staring straight ahead. Maybe talking about work wasn’t the way to go. Maybe he needed to relate to him as a dragon shifter and not a human.
“I haven’t been to this part of Ireland,” Eli said. “I’ve heard from some other shifters that the Cliffs of Moher are some of the most beautiful in the world.” He picked up a menu and examined it. “I’d like to go check them out. Have you been?”
Owen finally made eye contact with Eli. Owen’s eyes were a sharp, icy blue. “Yes, I’ve been there.”
Eli couldn’t detect an accent of any kind. He was really curious about where Owen had grown up. “Did you shift and fly?”
“No, I broke off from a tour group and went to see the ocean. I stayed human.”
Eli was tired of this game. He wasn’t good at it, and he was no spy. That much was obvious. “Are you from the States?”
“Yes.”
“Do you live in a clan?”
“Sometimes.”
Good Lord, this guy was a lot of effort. “Me, too,” Eli said. “During the week, I live in Portland with all humans. But on the weekends, I go back to my clan and stay with them.”
“How big is your clan?” Owen asked.
Finally. A little interest from him. “It’s pretty big. We have hundreds of members. Most of them stick around and live on the coast. A few have moved off, but the clan really likes us to stick around.”
Owen huffed. “Yeah, I know. Mine’s the same.”
“Is yours large, too?”
“No, it’s small. That’s why I left.”
“I know of a shifter who’s searching for other clans, but I don’t think she knows about yours.”
“That’s deliberate. The Elders of my clan don’t want it known.”
“I can keep it to myself, then.”
“Please do. And I’m not really from the States. I lied about that. I’m from Canada, Newfoundland specifically. I joined the military right after I graduated from university. I’d always wanted to be a part of the Royal Canadian Airforce. After I finished my commitment with them, I became a commercial pilot.”
“So, that pissed your clan off?” Eli asked.
“Very much. No one ever leaves. Not even to work nearby, like you do.”
“But you fly all over the world.”
“Yes.”
“Do you go home for visits?”
“No,” Owen said with a growl. The ‘I’m not welcome there’ was implied.
“I’m sorry,” Eli said. Being away from their clan was a difficult thing for dragon shifters. Eli enjoyed his time in Portland, but he was always grateful to return home
