Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 460

Chapter 460: Ava: Deranged Bird

A man appears out of nowhere, stumbling in the snow only twenty feet from us.

My skin crawls just looking at him.

He’s dressed as if he’s homeless, with bare feet, dirty skin, and matted hair. If we were in the middle of a city somewhere, I wouldn’t think twice over his existence. Here?

It’s strange.

Where’s he from? How is he surviving this cold in his threadbare clothing? Why no shoes? And how did he just appear in front of us?

Eleanor makes a soft sound. "He looks cold," she says, and I stick my arm out in silent warning for her to stay back.

Vester growls, and my bodyguards come between us. "Who are you?" he demands of the man.

He catches me staring and throws his head back, cackling with a laugh that splits the air like a blade. It’s high-pitched, manic, bouncing off the snow around us.

"Don’t you recognize me, little wolf?" He points at me, fingers dirty and nails blackened.

We’ve seen him before, Selene murmurs. I remember his scent. It was the time you took me shopping for that terrible kibble.

"I do," I say, my voice tight. "You were in Cedarwood." My stomach twists as recognition dawns. Not full recognition, but a hint of it. I vaguely recall this: a man who’d given me the creeps, staring at us a little too intently.

His eyes are hungrier now, his posture more predatory despite his frail appearance.

He wags his finger at me, clicking his tongue. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re lying. Naughty girl. Only the wolf recognized me. Only the wolf." His voice slides up and down scales like he can’t decide what pitch to use.

He takes a step toward us, and Vester snarls, taking a step forward with his chest puffed out.

"Stay back."

The homeless man skips backward, an exaggerated hop, painfully childish for a grown man. He giggles again, a piercing, high-pitched sound.

"Do you know your people are in battle, right now, with vampires?" His smile stretches too wide, revealing far too many teeth. "As we speak, blood spills and souls depart. Tick tock, tick tock."

My back stiffens.

Vester’s eyes narrow. "How would you know that?"

The homeless man taps the side of his nose and winks, letting out another unsettling chuckle. His eyes never leave mine.

Selene steps in front of me, adding another layer of protection. He smells wrong, Ava. Like living death. He did then, too.

"Can I come with you?" the man asks, swaying slightly. "To your home. I promise I won’t bite." He snaps his teeth together with an audible click.

"Absolutely not," Vester answers before I can.

The man’s face falls in an exaggerated pout. He sighs dramatically, making a show of his disappointment. "Such a shame, such a shame. To encounter such prejudice, even this far from humans."

Something about his phrasing cuts through my fear. "What are you?" I demand, dropping all pretense. "Because I know you’re not human."

His eyes light up and he claps his hands like I’ve said something delightful. "Am I not human? If I am not human, then you, too, are not human."

"I’m not human," I say flatly. "I’m a shifter."

He giggles, the sound skittering across the snow like ice cracking. "Wolf, wolf, big bad wolf. It all comes back to wolves, doesn’t it?"

His madness feels unpredictable and dangerous. The way he sways, the hunger in his gaze; it’s no wonder all my guards are on edge.

"Please take me with you," he says again, voice suddenly plaintive. He extends his hands, wrists pressed together. "You can bind me. I understand why you’d want to. I won’t fight. I won’t hurt you. I just need to see my friend."

The pathetic gesture doesn’t match the gleam in his eyes.

Vester’s suspicion is palpable. "And who’s this friend?"

Grimoire, are you getting anything from him? Can you tell what he is?

After a silence that stretches too long, Grimoire speaks with strange reluctance. He isn’t seem human, but... I don’t think he’s a threat.

Selene’s surprise mirrors my own. Are you using your powers of observation? Look at him. Any fool can see he’s dangerous.

I can’t explain it, Grimoire admits. But I truly don’t think he means us harm.

Can you tell if he’s able to use magic? I ask Grimoire. Anything you can pick up on?

No, Grimoire answers after a pause. Nothing magical about him. But...

He’s not really alive, Grimoire finally says. He’s a spirit. A leftover wish of someone’s soul, gone slowly mad. The worst he could do is possess someone, but with how fractured he is, I don’t think it’s even possible.

Yes, Grimoire answers. You can probably see it that way.

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