then…” I felt the man step in close in behind me. “You will not touch this girl.” His hands cuffed my arms, firm and powerful.
Rodriguez’s glower moved from him to me, disgust curling his lips before he snorted and shoved his tray at the man behind the counter, taking the final cup of food before marching away.
Tension vibrated in my body, along with anger, fright, and disappointment. I had taken down men with his temperament many times, but this time fear crippled me. Maybe he couldn’t shift into his bull form here, but his power pulsated under his skin. He could tear me apart.
If I’d thought the teachings at HDF were brutal and relentless, I now realized it hadn’t been enough for real survival. How ill-prepared every soldier there was for a real battle against the fae.
Taking a deep breath, I curved around to look at the man behind me. Surprise curled down my throat, not ready for who stood behind me.
“Old man” was an understatement. His back was curved and twisted, hunching him over, far below my height. He held on to a cane, the stick assisting his thin legs. He had shoulder-length gray hair, left loose and knotted. His face was craggy; years and stories lined it with rich history. Skinny, his white uniform hung off his bones. It was the only white one I had seen.
His eyes widened, his body jerking back like he’d seen a ghost, his throat bobbing. But the emotion fluttered from him as fast as it came, making me believe I imagined it.
I stared at him, my brows furrowing with confusion.
The bull-shifter yielded to this old man? Frail and deformed.
“Not what you thought?” A soft smile grew on his worn face.
“No. I’m just…that’s not it.” My tongue stumbled over my lie.
His smile grew, his shaky hand reaching out to pat my shoulder. “Can’t really lie to a Druid, girl.” He clicked his tongue. “We tend to see through bullshit.”
“Y-you’re a druid.” My mouth fell open as people brushed by us, claiming what little crumbs were left. Shock kept me in place. Druids were rare, especially in Hungary. The bigotry toward Druids in the Eastern Bloc had never receded. Fae still hated them, and humans mistrusted them.
The old Seelie queen had murdered millions, long before my time, driving many of them underground to survive. But the current ruling queen was a Druid, and she’d drawn them back into the light, moving many to the Western world to live safely under her rule.
“They don’t have me wearing white for nothing.” His free hand motioned down his bent form, chuckling. “Not that looking at this ugly mug doesn’t tell you I’m certainly not fae, but still far too pretty to be human.” He winked playfully.
Confusion tugged at me. Why was this man teasing me? It put me on edge, wondering if something was going to come at me while he was lowering my guard.
“So distrustful.” He stared into my eyes like he was peeling away my skin. “But at the same time so naïve.”
My jaw locked down.
“Come.” He squeezed my arm, hobbling past me. “Sit with me. Have some coffee, at least.”
“I-I…”
“I need some company. Tired of muttering to myself.” He went to a counter with large thermoses, pouring two coffees. I followed, not knowing if it was a mistake, but the draw to the Druid was too powerful to fight. Something about him felt familiar and comfortable.
Automatically, I picked up both cups while he tottered to a table in the back. Heads turned in my direction, glares and snarls following me to the back table.
“Nice to have more than myself to converse with. Not many willing to sit with an old Druid man.” He grunted noisily as he sat down on the stool attached to the table. Everything here was bolted down or built in. Fewer items to be used as weapons. “I can give you a little rundown of this place.”
“I don’t need your help.” I set down the coffee cups. Need meant weakness.
He snuffed in. “Do you smell that?” He took a deep breath. “Are you bathing in bullshit now, girl?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Now sit down.” He nodded at the chair.
Stiffly, I perched on the stool, my eyes darting around.
“Good. Always be on guard in this place. Imagine this is the pride lands of Africa, and everything here is hunting you.”
“Africa?” I snorted, taking a sip of the black goop they called coffee, cringing as the bitter taste lumped down my throat.