Gathering Storm (The Salvation of Tempestria Book 2) - Gary Stringer (read e book TXT) 📗

she was going to try on were damaged. She pointed out the rips and tears on the legs, but apparently, they were meant to be like that. The assistant pointed out other ‘non-ripped styles’ that actually cost less.

A very confused Catriona tried to make sense of it. “Why would clothes that look damaged cost more than clothes that don’t?”

Daelen tried to explain it was called fashion, but neither Mandalee nor Cat really understood.

Several hours in, Mandalee was still thoroughly enjoying the experience and ended up with more bags than she could carry, so Daelen had to help her out as well as pay for everything with something called a ‘credit card’ under the human name ‘Daniel Storm.’ She had already changed three times. The only constant, a pair of silver sapphire earrings that caught the light as they dangled from her ears. They had been her first purchase – love at first sight.

By contrast, Catriona’s initial curiosity in technology and books had quickly evaporated, until enthusiasm had been replaced by irritation and ultimately a nasty temper. She seemed intent on finding reasons to dislike everything she saw. In the end, she refused to buy all but a few basic cotton clothing essentials. Otherwise, her acquisitions were limited to a single black dress made from a synthetic velvet, which she had only accepted because Mandalee picked it out for her, insisting it would look perfect on her. Not wanting to upset her friend, she did her best to wear a fake smile and seem grateful.

In truth, she hated it: The fabric reminded her of Dreya. She was already feeling cut off from her world and this reminder of how much she missed the woman she loved, while at the same time having feelings for Daelen, was like pouring salt into an open wound. But her magically backed promise kept her from explaining the pain this experience was causing her and that made her lash out.

At last, she declared she’d had it with the place and flatly refused to walk another step in any direction other than the exit.

“I’m going back outside to read,” she decided. “You keep wasting your time if you like, but I’m not wasting any more of mine!”

“But you’ve barely bought anything,” Daelen objected. “I thought you’d want to be able to fit in with this world when you go out.”

Cat insisted it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to fit in because she had no intention of setting foot outside Daelen’s place again while they were on Earth.

When Mandalee asked Cat to put some of her stuff in her pocket dimension, her friend snapped, “I can’t! All my connections with our world are severed here, so I can’t access my pocket dimension, and even if I could, it’s not there to be cluttered with stupid, frivolous stuff like your shopping!” Scowling at Daelen, she growled, “Let me know when you’re ready to go. We’ve got more important things to do – or at least, I do.”

Mandalee tried to ask what was wrong, but Cat just turned her back and strode away towards the exit.

*****

Later that evening, back at Daelen’s house, Cat was sitting in a corner, her nose in a book, while her companions chatted on the other side of the room. They occasionally glanced her way, but they treated Cat in the same way one might treat her namesake animal when its claws were out, its tail was wagging, and its fur was standing on end. They sensed that even asking what was wrong was likely to get them scratched, so they simply gave her a wide berth and hoped she would come to them when she was ready.

When Daelen and Mandalee decided to retire for the night, Daelen approached her, but a glare stopped him from approaching within three feet.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

She knew she was being rude, but somehow, she just couldn’t stop herself. From her shapeshifting, she thought she understood what pain was. This place was proving her wrong about that.

“I was just suggesting to Mandalee that we should go to bed now. The time difference in this place can throw you off, but it’s good to try and establish a routine for the next few weeks.”

“Thank you so much for your opinion,” she replied acidly.

“Look, if this is about before, I swear I’m back under control now.”

Cat's only response was a stony silence.

“Tomorrow, we start training properly,” he told her, “so you’ll need to be wide awake for that because I promise you, you’re going to have to use every trick in the book.”

“My tricks aren’t in the book yet, Daelen,” Catriona countered, closing the book she’d been reading to punctuate her statement. “Good night,” she offered; a phrase with no emotion behind it. Refusing to even look at Daelen, she walked away.

*****

Dawn came, and the two girls woke to the scent of cooked eggs, bacon and sausages drifting towards them from the kitchen.

As they rose, drawn to movement from outside, Mandalee offered her friend a “Good Morning,” and got nothing but a “That remains to be seen,” in return. The White Assassin chose not to comment.

There came a polite knock on the door, and a female voice sang, “Heya, loves! Are you up?”

When Mandalee invited her in, the door opened to reveal a young woman standing there. If she were from Tempestria, Mandalee would guess she was in her late teens, no more than two or three years younger than Cat and herself. However, she was clearly not Tempestrian, so she couldn’t be sure. The girl had dark purple skin, golden eyes, catlike ears poking through her dark hair and a tail swishing behind her. Skin tone aside, her face was mostly human-like, but with just a hint of something feline. That was OK. As she’d once told her friend beside her, she’d always got along really well with cats.

“I’m Jessica,” she beamed with a small wave. “I work for Daelen here. He asked us to come and help out