Page 4 of Unveiled

Connor turned to Luciana. “What kind of talents are you referring to?”

Luciana waved a hand. “Ones that are generally not seen by the outside world,” she murmured. “My people are those who fear living amongst the medians, as they don’t understand your world.”

“Medians?” Adrian looked intrigued. “Who are they?”

Luciana stared at them gravely. “You are.”

Connor frowned. “Can you explain that a little, please?” He had an inkling of what she meant, but he needed her to spell it out. “Are you referring to people without these ‘talents’ you mentioned?” If so, you’re in for a shock. You’re in my world of wolves now.

She nodded. “Yes. Those who live on the intermediate plane. Neither under the Earth, nor above it, or within the veil itself.” She appeared loath to say much more; instead she gazed around her worriedly. “I can’t say much more, or they may punish me. If my world is here, then they will also be, even if not in person.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Fraser asked.

Luciana shook her head in sudden panic. “I can’t say. Please don’t ask me. They have eyes and ears everywhere. I can see them. They are the shadows in the darkness, the things you see when all is lost.”

Her fear was palpable, and Connor’s protective instincts rose, along with a need to reassure her. He didn’t remember seeing any damned shadows.

“Well, whoever or whatever they are, if they’re dickheads, they’ll need to deal with me. This is my valley, and I don’t take kindly to arseholes making trouble.”

“I don’t understand all these words,” Luciana said quietly, “but thank you for the offer of assistance. Although I don’t believe you’d be able to take them on. They have too much power.”

“We’ll see about that,” Connor growled.

“Indeed,” Adrian murmured. “They haven’t met you yet. I’m sure you’d be a formidable opponent.”

Connor glared at him, wondering if the man was mocking him. But Adrian’s face remained placid, showing no hint of mockery.

“Yes, well, we’ll see.” Connor muttered. “Come on then, enough talk. Let’s walk the village and see if we can get any answers. If anyone needs help, howl.” He stopped, unsure how much he should give away at this juncture.

He was pretty sure Luciana wasn’t ready to witness humans shifting into wolves, regardless of her background. “I mean, call out, whatever. Stay alert, and we’ll meet back here when we’re done.”

The other men nodded and walked off in opposite directions.

“Luciana, why don’t you stay here in case anyone wakes up and comes looking for you. They might need to see a friendly face.”

She nodded. “I shall do that. Thank you. I know this must all seem very strange to you. I can barely believe it myself. This is the first time this has happened…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes filling with dread. “My community will be scared when they wake up here, as I was.”

Connor walked toward the church, looking around as he took in the buildings on the cobbled street. Each side featured a mix of what looked like residential houses, some with signs declaring Apothecary, Tea Room, and Spells and Potions. There was one with a sign that said The Dry Pig, which he took to be a tavern, even if it didn’t resemble a traditional pub. It was a hodgepodge of small stone buildings joined together in what appeared to be a wide circle.

Connor had an uneasy feeling he knew exactly what type of talents existed here. How in hell did I get saddled with some sort of supernatural village on my land, filled with beings of unearthly powers?

Would these people be dangerous? No doubt. He hoped they were friendly enough, like Luciana. Huh. He hadn’t even asked her what her talent was.

He reached the church and approached the wide wooden door with caution. The steps were overgrown with moss, and a pleasant scent of lavender and damp grass wafted from the verdant lawns on either side of the path.

Whatever had brought this place here, it didn’t appear to have affected the village’s flora as the flowers and foliage remained intact.

Connor was certain he’d seen a rabbit bolt out of the churchyard as he approached. His wolf senses had wanted to give chase, but he had more important things to do right now than bunny hunting.

He knocked on the door, hearing the hollow sound reverberate deep within the structure. “Hello? Is anyone in here? I’m about to enter.”

There was only silence, so Connor knocked again. Nothing. He reached for the ornate brass door handle, crafted in the shape of a horned deer, and pushed it open. His senses told him no one was in his immediate vicinity, so he entered.

Inside, the church was unearthly quiet, save for a soft rustling in the roof beams. Connor looked up to see a couple of curious wood pigeons eyeing him warily from the rafters. He chuckled at the sight, feeling a sudden wave of relief at the birds’ presence. It added an element of normalcy to what had been a most unusual morning.

He checked his watch. It was half past four, only a couple of hours until sunrise. He shivered. The church was surprisingly chilly, likely due to the thick stone walls and arched windows filled with brightly coloured stained glass. The temperature outside had been around eight degrees, but in here, it couldn’t be more than six.

He pulled his coat closer and continued his exploration. It was a typical kirk, he mused, neat, serene, with rows of pews ready for occupants, and the altar and raised pulpit up ahead. There was a small room on the left-hand side, its door closed and no sound of life beyond. He walked over and tapped on the wood.