Well. You won't be hard up for open space." She nearly jumped out of her skin as the sound of the horn echoed off mountains, trees, and a few buildings. Birds squawked in response, but no one seemed to notice or mind the noise.
"For crap's sake." Marci spit out chicken feathers as Hazel's fluffy rear met her face. "Get off the steering wheel, you useless chicken."
Murmuring under her breath, she jumped down from the truck and reached up to pet Hazel. "No more heart attacks."
Her battered heart didn't need any more excitement for a while. "Come on. Let's go. Someone is supposed to be here to meet us. I hope." Reaching into her pocket, she checked the phone. "We're a little early." She patted her palms against her thighs.
What exactly was she supposed to do? The static of magic marched up her arms begging for attention. Turning her head in the direction of the thin threads, her eyes landed on the hardware store. Squinting, she tried to figure out what the heck that meant. The only thing she wanted right now was to settle in, or maybe coffee. Glancing down the street, left then right she could make out a few businesses and what looked like a coffee shop. "Oh thank God." No one lived without coffee.
Sliding her phone into her jeans pocket, she turned to the clucking in the truck.
"What exactly do I do with you?" Leaning into the truck, she studied Hazel . "It's too bad no one saw your value. I guess we both have that in common."
"Miss?"
She jumped, knocking her head on the door in the process.
"Good Lord. Ouch. Damn it." Her chest fluttered. Her hand pressed down over her heart. For a moment the world shimmered around her. She blinked several times. There was magic here. Lots and lots of magic. Rubbing at her head, she turned around as if an invisible hand pushed her. Her skin started to itch.
Breathe.
"Oh," she said as her head traded the door for a hard chest. Apparently, fate intended to knock sense into her one way or another.
She looked up and up. Blinking against the late afternoon sun, she took him in. Huge.
"You okay," he asked?
She blinked again. Her senses off balance, her magic pulling her as if the mountain of a man in front of her was the exact reason she was here. That made no sense. She didn't need a man, and nor did she want one.
He rocked back on his heels.
"I'll take your silence as a yes?"
"Yes, fine. I guess." She was fine. Maybe. She tingled everywhere like her senses were running wild into a supernatural landslide knocking her on her ass. Her jaw ached, and she tried to relax. She flexed her hands trying to work it out of her.
Under her breath, she said, "Hazel , you're the worst guard chicken ever."
"Are chickens normally known for their guarding skills?" His head cocked to the side. "Why, exactly do you have a chicken?"
"She's a pet. I doubt they are good at guarding much, but I don't know. I just inherited her."
"Okay. Inherited? There's a whole lot I want to ask, but let's just come back to the chicken later. I assume you're Marci? The person here for the inn?"
Marci eyed the man. "I wasn't trying to announce anything." Folding her hands in front of her, she eyed him.
Good looking guys didn't possess anything special, other than they didn't have to try hard. She'd need a mental head slap later for thinking he was good looking. Right then and there whoever this guy was, he was too good looking, and that wouldn't work for her. But damn it, he had her magic singeing every one of her nerves.
"You doing okay?"
"Yup. Fine, thanks. Why?"
She watched him with scrutiny and regretted it. The flannel he wore stretched across a broad chest, pulling across biceps, and she had the thought that when the hell did flannel become sexy? A spark of magic hit the air and exploded into a small sprinkling of tiny sparks.
"Is that normal?"
Marci shook her hand. "No. Wait, you can see that?"
He nodded. "This place does some strange things with magic."
"I've never had that happen before. How embarrassing." Marci took her hand in the other and squeezed. It's like her magic just prematurely went off, and she just realized how her boyfriend in high school must have felt.
She snorted, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Swallowing her embarrassed laughter and shoving down all those random emotions she didn't have time for, she stood up straight. Emotions bottled up again; she found her words. This was her blank slate. Her magic sparked up again, and Marci looked back towards the man. Her magic was telling her something.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Did you lose something or need help with anything?"
His head cocked to the side. "Odd question, but no. Not that I know of. This place, the inn was in need of someone to run it. I'm good though."
"You're sure? I can't figure you out."
He raised a hand and scratched at his goatee.
"If you can figure out a way to stop the crazy women around here from trying to find me a mate, I guess that would be helpful."
She eyed him. "A mate?"
He bit his bottom lip. "Yeah. Too many old ladies here. Busybodies."
She nodded. "Uh huh. I'm guessing you're a shifter then?"
"Yes. Does that matter? You're a witch. Now that we have that out of the way."
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "It doesn't matter. I'm just trying to understand you. Or rather me."
She'd helped plenty of shifters, humans, witches, a few Fae, elves, and anything else. She'd never had her magic jump out like lightning in need of a metal
