The Procurer

Eoghan was starting to lose patience when he finally heard the door of the pub open. The bright light of inside and loud sounds of revelry filled the small parking lot as Tanner’s slurring voice bid everyone goodbye.

He grinned inwardly. He had been standing for an hour in the cold, waiting for his unsuspecting victim. It had been ages since a traveller had come to these remote parts of Northern Ireland and this art collector could not be a more perfect person to have some fun with. He’d been in town for a week, going through late Mr. O’Malley’s estate and picking out paintings to take with him. And every night, he had gotten piss drunk and walked through the fields in the dark to get back to the homestead he was staying in.

He was too tempting a target for a Puca in hiding to ignore. Even in his human form, Tanner would have made a pretty entertaining sight to spook. But Eoghan decided to do it in his beast form because he would get to shift for the first time in seven years! It was hard being a shifter when horse carriages weren’t around in cities and his kind were small in number and only found in this small part of the world.

And Eoghan was pretty sure Tanner could ride. He’d told the guys at the pub one night that he had grown up on a sheep farm, so of course he could ride, right? Just to make sure that Tanner took the bait, he moved to the part of the pasture that was more lit up by the din light bulb outside the pub.

As he heard the uneven scrunch of gravel under Tanner’s drunken steps, he tried to look as inviting as possible. He dropped his head low and let his ears and lip droop to show he was relaxed but when Tanner started to pass by him, he wasn’t looking.

So Eoghan nickered invitingly and cocked a back hoof. Tanner couldn’t ignore him anymore and glided over to him.

“Look at you my beauty, how did you end up here all saddled up?” It had taken Eoghan years to practice shifting into his horse form in such a way that the saddle and bridle sat perfectly.

The man was piss drunk, could barely stand let alone walk all the way back to the the homestead. Perfect. He wouldn’t remember a thing. Eoghan’s only regret was that he couldn’t get him to be naked like his last victim. He had left that one outside the baker’s so that everyone got an eyeful of his frost bitten jewels first thing in the morning.

He chuckled at his own ingenuity as Tanner put out a hand in front of his head which Eoghan quickly sniffed. That was an odd smell. Herbs and alcohol. But Tanner had spent the whole day in that sad house that was always shut so he didn’t focus on the scent much and breathed out on Tanner’s hand.

“Aren’t you a sweet heart. I would’ve ridden you if I wasn’t this drunk.”

No! Of all the days he decided to become cautious today? Eoghan had no choice but to bring out the big guns. He bowed.

It wasn’t a common trick to teach horses so he grabbed Tanner’s attention immediately. “Awww buddy, how can I say no to that.”

Yes!! Eoghan behaved the whole time that drunk Tanner managed to climb on in spite of his inebriated uncoordinated movements and he behaved himself as he calmly trotted towards the small hill and over it with smugness. That was untill they were out of sight and hearing distance from the pub.

But something suddenly changed. Something felt….off.

Then Tanner spoke in a completely normal yet amused tone. “Well, it’s just you and me now Puca. Let’s see who wins.”

Eoghan’s first response was fear. This man knew his secret and….was he even a man? His instinct was to shift back to human but he realised that something was keeping him in the form he was in. He started to get agitated and impatiently tossed his head and curled his lip. He wanted him off.

“Whoa brother, you can’t just back out and shift back so easily,” laughed the maniac on his back, “We’re both here, let’s have some fun.”

Eoghan felt a harsh kick to his sides as Tanner urged him to run. But he wasn’t an animal. He was a supernatural being. An ancient Irish shifter, a Puca. And Tanner didn’t know what he was messing with.

Max was smirking. He had been trying for months to find this guy and he was getting sick of all the estate sales he was going to. Tanner Lane may be his alias but the life that the ‘art-procurer-Tanner’ led did not interest Max at all.

So he squeezed his legs and urged the Puca to go but he had poked the wrong beast. Suddenly, the horse slammed his head between it’s knees and tried to throw him off it’s back as if he wanted to catapult Max’s body into the tree ahead.

Thankfully, Roland had taught Max well. He had trained for months to get this right and he had picked up everything faster than humans due to his superhuman strength.

The Puca didn’t know he was a supernatural and started off with a crow-hop to get him off. Max chuckled as he easily held on, spooking the shifter even more. He grabbed on to the horse’s neck and squeezed his legs in an attempt to hang on and make the Puca bolt. But the Irish shifter was a supernatural too and he did not hold back.

He was full on bucking now, giving Max a run for his money. His back would arch into a C shape and all four of his hooves would come off the ground every time he jumped. Max’s eyes widened and he was suddenly alert. This was going to require all his skill and balance.

The Puca went on and on as if he had all the strength in the world as Max focused on everything all at once. In spite of some part of his spine making a funny sound, he was staying on by sitting up tall, he was squeezing his thighs, he was holding on to the pummel of the saddle and finally he had the small chance to drop a rein and pull the one in his hand to bring the horse’s head up and to the side. Even if he was a shifter, the horse’s instincts were strong in his beast form and he finally stopped bucking.

But Max celebrated too quickly and relaxed, making his first mistake. The Puca didn’t miss the slack in the rein and took off cantering away.

Tanner held on tight as the Puca ran through the pastures at a maddening gallop. He was running through uneven ground and shallow streams covering Max in dirt and water, tiring himself out. He was going in the opposite direction that Max needed to go to but Max didn’t care. He hung on tight till the Puca stopped abruptly.

Max used all the strength he could muster but the momentum was too great for his strength and he flew over the horses head, smashing into the ground in the front. He dared not let go of the reins though and he gritted his teeth through whatever bone he had broken. He had never been more thankful for his superior supernatural strength when the Puca tried to take off and drag Max behind him, but failed as Max tugged with all his strength and pushed himself to be the fastest he had ever been to try and scramble back on to the horse.

They were both tired and panting and it was about who gave in first now. Max tugged at the reins yanking the horse around so that the Puca couldn’t find his balance in his beast form.

The Puca wasn’t happy, he was trying to regain his balance to rear up and hit Max with his fore legs but Max kept moving faster than the Puca could.

Finally, the shifter gave a long whinnie, signalling his surrender. He was exhausted and frothing at the mouth.

Max watched him closely and held up a palm. The horse pawed the ground a few times but he looked too tired to attack. Didn’t seem like he got a lot of exercise on a regular basis, at least not in his beast form.

“I’ll remove the non shifting charm,” Max declared his intention as he reached over and untied the small clip from the bridle’s crown piece.

The Puca immediately shifted back to his panting and heaving human form that was covered in sweat and mud as the saddle and reins fell around him. Max reached into his jacket, pulled out small a bottle of water and handed it to him. The Puca glared at him in anger at the size of the tiny bottle in his palm taking his gesture for mirth.

“Take a sip, it’s laced with gokshura.”

The Puca’s eyes first widened at the mention of the magical herb and then settled into a defeated droop as he grabbed the bottle and drank.

Max watched him closely as the male in front of him started to recover from the exertion. Pucas weren’t meant to be shifted for so long and he had drained himself of almost all his supernatural energy.

“So…..I win?” Max asked impatiently. The deed was done, he needed what he came here for and then be gone.

The Puca stayed kneeling and nodded.

“And…” pressed Tanner.

“Malaga,” the shifter voiced the words of wisdom that Max had been chasing for months, “what you seek is in Spain.”