The Zodiac Series Pisces Rae Morgan and Sherrill Quinn
The Zodiac Series Pisces Rae Morgan and Sherrill Quinn (c) 2006 ISBN 1-59578-211-7 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2006, Rae Morgan and Sherrill Quinn. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email:
[email protected] Editor Terri Schaefer Cover Artist April Martinez This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
No Secrets Book Four of the Coven of the Wolf Series Rae Morgan
Author’s Note Debby Teague and Boris Petrov’s Story So Far After Sheriff Debby Teague used her magick to save Gor Petrov’s fated mate Selena Jones (in Treading the Labyrinth), she once again suffered the fear, doubt, and guilt of her dark and strong magick. What in the hell was she going to do? She’d opened the Pandora’s Box of her magick, but would she be able to close it again? Did she even want to close it again? She’d forgotten how good the use of power felt, even more so now that she had fullgrown, mature powers. But the darkness in her still threatened. No, she couldn’t allow her magick out into the world. She’d bury it again—this time with more difficulty, to be sure—but she would bury it. The image of Selena in Gor’s loving embrace flashed across her mind. She supposed now Selena and Gor would live in Bear Hollow. Debby’s gut clenched. Once again she was jealous of Selena, but this time she envied the woman’s relationship with Gor, not her mother. She didn’t know what she felt for Boris. She wasn’t sure of anything right now, other than she needed to go home and think. Her long-term goals and world viewpoint had been tossed upside down and twisted inside out since she’d met the man in her arms. She wasn’t sure she had the courage to be what he and the others wanted her to be. And until she knew whether or not she could handle their view of her, she needed to have some distance. So, Debby left Boris Petrov in Illinois and headed home to Bear Hollow, Tennessee, intending never to look back. Boris couldn’t believe that his fated mate had left him. He’d been furious, but once he’d calmed down he realized that Debby was scared—not of him, but of what he represented—a return to a life of magick. A life that she had foresworn as a teenager. “So, what are you going to do?” Gor asked. “Wait for a month or so, then go back down to Bear Hollow and kidnap her if I have to.” Gor laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Selena and I will keep an eye on her for you. We’ll make sure she doesn’t get into trouble—and hears all about you—every day.” Boris smiled for the first time since he’d awakened from the dark chaos magick web of death. “Thanks, bro. And keep the cabin ready for me. I’m going to talk Drake into letting us set up a small enclave down there, so we can all be neighbors.” “No need to talk to Drake, bro. I already have. He agreed and is searching for property near ours as we speak.” “How did you get him to agree so quickly?” Boris asked. “Your mate. He wants her under coven protection. She’s too powerful to just let her run loose out there.” In September, one month after Debby’s flight back to her Smoky Mountain home, the dark magician’s minions initiated their plot to destroy the Coven of the Wolf.
Their first battleground: Bear Hollow, Tennessee.
Chapter One October, Bear Hollow, Tennessee Cindy Long hurried down the dimly lit forest path. The full moon glowed eerily red overhead and barely provided enough light for her to distinguish the shadows from the trees. According to her best friend, Tad Benton, the October full moon was named the Blood Moon because the Ancients made offerings to it as they hunted wild animals and slaughtered domestic ones in preparation for the long winter ahead. Tad knew all sorts of neat stuff. Listening to his stories of the Ancients was one of the reasons why she was out past her curfew. That, and because Tad was tall, lean, and extremely good- looking—not that she’d ever assume he’d want to date her, but a girl could always hope. Glancing at the lighted dial on her watch, Cindy groaned. Her dad would ground her for a week—unless she could sneak in through her bedroom window. Heck, grounding would be the least of her worries. More than likely, he’d tan her bottom if he ever found out that she’d been out with Tad and his friends. Her dad didn’t like the new “element” that had moved into town late last summer, after the rescue of Selena Jones by Sheriff Teague and the hunky Gor Petrov. Her dad thought all the members of the Drake, Ltd. organic farming commune were loonies and unfit companions for his fourteen-year-old daughter. Cindy just thought they were cool. Especially Tad. She reached the fork in the trail that would break away from the woods. As she stepped onto the path that led home, she caught the scent of something chemical— something hot—on the night breeze. It smelled smoky. Was someone cooking out? Didn’t the idiots realize that there was a “no open burning” rule in effect? The forests were so dry that the slightest spark could start a forest fire. And why did the smoke smell so strange, more like a chemistry lab than a wienie roast? Was someone deliberately setting a fire? No matter what was burning, it was dangerous. Cindy decided to investigate. If someone was breaking the law, she could tell her forest ranger dad, and maybe he would cut her some slack on her curfew violation. Cindy left the well-trodden public pathway. Following her nose, she carefully picked her way through brittle undergrowth and fallen leaves. Ahead she could make out the warm yellow glow of a fire. Inhaling sharply, she could now identify some of the chemical odors—one was definitely ammonia. Another smell overlay it, but was less easily named. Was it something she’d smelled in the school lab? Another strong sniff and she had it! It smelled like the finger nail polish remove r at Nancy’s Nails and Tips. What would someone be doing in the forest in the middle of the night cooking chemicals? Not only was it dangerous—it was weird. Her curiosity totally engaged, she slid through the spindly new tree growth and rhododendron bushes, careful not to make any unnecessary sounds. Some primordial instinct told her not to be observed by whoever was out there. Using a large oak as cover, she peered around the trunk.
The scene looked like something out of a Friday the 13th movie—or Hell itself. Four dark male shapes hovered around a large brick fire pit. Suspended over the orange- yellow flames was a large shiny pot. A pile of red and white boxes lay strewn around the men’s feet. The boxes were easily recognizable—Sudafed. Large glass bottles containing some sort of clear liquid sat off to the side, barely illuminated by the fire. She couldn’t make out the labels, but the smell of ammonia was almost overpowering now, so it was a safe bet that some of the containers held the powerful cleaning compound. A nagging memory tickled the back of her brain. Ammonia. Sudafed. And that chemical that was in nail polish remover, acid, no, acetone. The men were making crystal meth! She’d read about the process in the newspapers back in August when a kid from school had died from an overdose of the street drug. The “poor man’s heroin,” the reporter had called it. Fear and excitement combined to settle in the pit of her stomach like a lump of indigestible meat. She had to get to Sheriff Teague. This was way more trouble than her dad was capable of handling. These men were criminals, not careless campers. Cindy turned to leave the way she’d come. “What have we here?” a shadowy shape in front of her intoned. Cindy’s scream was cut off when the cowl-robed speaker encircled her neck with his hands in a cruel grip, then pulled her to him. His cowl fell from his head, revealing his sharply cut features under the October full moon’s glow. His dark eyes gleamed with wicked excitement. His teeth shone brightly in the moonlight. His thin lips twisted into a cruel smile. He was evil personified. God, she was so in trouble. **** Every night since Debby had left him in Southern Illinois, Boris visited and, like an incubus, made mad, passionate love to her. Never mind that her sensual tormentor was physically hundreds of miles away in Chicago and she was in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Never mind that she’d told him repeatedly that she didn’t want him. Never mind that she’d reluctantly resorted to every defensive dark magick trick in the book, and some she’d made up, to forestall his nightly assault on her mind and body. He still visited and with only slight variations in technique, made carnal love to her on the highest levels of the astral plane. Tonight he was late. Stupid fool that she was, she called him on it, as if she really cared. And she didn’t! Of course she didn’t. “You’re late. Hot date?” Debby said. “You missed me, bébé?” “No. In fact, I was relieved.” Boris snorted. “Liar. I’m growing on you, admit it, little hell cat.” Boris’s astral body reached for her. Debby slapped his hand away and stepped back. Putting what she hoped was a look of disdain on her face, she drawled, “Growing on me? Yeah, like an icky, smelly fungus.” “Debby, my beloved one, you love me, but are just too stubborn to admit it.” “I don’t love you, Bo. Get away from me…” She backpedaled and came up against a stone wall that hadn’t been there two seconds earlier. That was the thing about dreams and the astral plane—real world physics went all to hell.
Trapped, she growled, “Get over yourself and leave me the hell alone. I’m sure there are lots of women in Chicago you can torment on a nightly basis. Some of us need our sleep, because we have a job to do.” “Actions speak louder than words, bébé. So let’s see just how much you hate my love-making, eh?” Within the space of a millisecond, Boris’s astral body swept Debby’s dream self into a garden on the astral plane, high above the psychic-vamps and unaware dreamers trolling the lower levels. Her clothes whisked away by his thoughts, Debby was open to his sensual assault, once again helpless to fight him off. Each night it was the same. It was as if her astral body wouldn’t listen to her higher brain, the part of herself that knew that Boris and all that he represented was bad for her. Instead some primitive part of her psyche drove her dreams, allowing her to become a helpless victim to Boris’s lovemaking. Lately, in the pale gray of early morning after a night of indescribable, passionate sex, there were times she second-guessed herself. Maybe she was fighting Boris and herself far too hard. Maybe she could live with Boris, make a family, and perform magick. Then the bright dawn of reason arrived with the morning sun and she convinced herself yet again that turning her back on Boris and his magical world was the best thing she could do for herself—and for the world. Never again could she allow herself to lose control of the cursed powers she possessed. Yes, she’d helped rescue Selena, Gor, and Boris from the dark magician Darius, but the use of her powers, grown greater with age, both attracted and repelled her. Call her a coward, but she couldn’t face the horrifying darkness within her. So she’d run home to her safe little world. The Coven followed her—and Boris wooed her nightly. “Little one, you are not paying attention. I am nibbling your neck and stroking your labia, but you are miles away. I am distraught.” Boris inserted a finger, then two, into her vaginal opening, stroking and spreading her wetness over her puffy labia. Every few seconds, he’d flick her needy clit as if to announce that he was there and wasn’t leaving until he got the reaction he desired. Horny, sensual bastard. “Distraught? That’ll be the day. If you must know, I was thinking of England.” Boris laughed. His lips moved from her hyper-sensitive neck to her turgid nipples. He licked, then bit first one and then the other until they were rosy and wet. All the while he increased the stroking of her sex. Already her body tightened as her arousal heightened. The tension was so great that she had to remind herself to breathe, just as she fought not to react, not to allow him to control her body. It was a useless battle. He’d proven in the past that he could arouse her no matter how hard she tried not to respond. Each night she vowed to lie like a stone statue, and each night she ended up moaning, groaning and shouting his name to the alternate reality sky. The only thing she’d been successful at was denying him the words he wished to hear—and even those had come pretty damn close to the surface. But somehow she’d managed not to give him the words of love he wanted so badly. She couldn’t love him. She wouldn’t allow it. It was too dangerous. A long talented finger stroked her G-spot. Debby moaned. The man knew how to push her buttons. If the sex were this good out-of-body, she figured she’d never survive
the real thing. “Oh, you will not only survive, but beg for more, bébé. Let me fly to you this night. Let’s take our love into the light of the real world.” “It’s this or nothing, Bo.” “You can’t stop me from visiting your dreams…” “I’m working on it—don’t count me out. My blocking is becoming stronger. You can’t reach me any longer during the day. Admit it.” “As you say, I’m working on it, little cat. Don’t count me out. I am a persistent man when there is something I want.” “You’re a horny, overbearing, ruthless, obstinate Scorpio shifter is what you are.” “And you are my temperamental, slightly out of touch with reality Pisces match. It’s that Taurus rising that makes you so damn stubborn, but we Scorpions are a tenacious bunch.” “My mother told you my birth sign!” “Your mother knows excellent son-in-law material when she sees it.” “Forget that, she just wants grandchildren.” “And for you to use your Goddess-given abilities.” Debby groaned. Boris was correct. Her mother had been acting strangely ever since she’d met Boris. Lately, she’d taken up knitting baby things—in blue. No pink. No yellow. Just blue. And she made duplicates of everything. Debby was scared. Her mother had foreseen something and wasn’t telling her only daughter. Her own precognitive abilities were useless when it came to her own future, and Boris’s future was shrouded in a mysterious dark mist that she couldn’t penetrate—or was afraid to. Debby was also afraid that Boris knew exactly what it was that her mother hid. It was a damn conspiracy. “Your mother is an uncommonly intelligent woman—you should listen to her for a change.” “Bite me.” And he did—on her inner thigh, then worked his way with nibbling little kisses to her labia, now supersensitive from his finger’s ministrations. “Come for me, Debby. Give me your moans, your sweet cries of passion. Tell me you’re mine.” Boris took her clit between his lips and sucked—hard. Debby fell into a deep pool of whirling sensation as wave after wave of orgiastic pleasure surged across her body. As waves turned to ripples, Boris placed his engorged cock at her opening and surged inside, beginning the rhythm that would take her to the top once more. Groaning, Debby lay back and allowed him to sweep her to the stars again. She couldn’t fight him. It felt too good. And, after all, it was just out-of-body sex—not the real thing. She could always get her REM sleep later. As Boris came into he r, he shouted, “Je t'aime, bébé.” Debby gritted her teeth against the love words ready to come out of her mouth and instead groaned in the back of her throat as she reached her peak soon after his. “Give me the words, little cat.” Boris’s etheric self breathed his plea against the damp hair above her ear. “You know we are meant to be life partners. It is preordained. We can work together on your magical control. Work on containing your shadow self. I
would never let you hurt anyone or yourself. Trust me. Love me.” Debby heard the truth in Boris’s words. The pleading. The proud Scorpio male allowing himself to beg called to the Piscean need to please a lover. She wanted to give him the words, wanted to please him, to be what he wanted. But the Taurean aspect of her nature, the cautious stubborn side that had allowed her to deny her magick, deny her strong shadow self, forced the words to stick in her throat. Instead, she said, “Bo, I’m tired—please…” Whatever she would’ve said next was cut off by the sound of her beeper. She was very much afraid that the sound of the beep had saved her from weeping and begging Boris to leave her alone. Fully awake now, Debby sat up in bed. She sensed the dampness between her legs, felt the lingering soreness of strenuous sex. Reaching for the beeper, she wondered how OBE sex could feel so real. She’d have to research that. Maybe Selena would know. Now that the shaman had helped her mother become stronger and go into remission, Debby didn’t fear the woman so much. The beeper readout had the Sheriff’s Office dispatch phone number. Duty called— and tired as she was, she was grateful for the interruption. She’d been too damn close to giving Boris what he wanted tonight. One or two more orgasms and she’d have been vowing love, devotion, and the willingness to have his pups. She was so not ready for any of that. As she dialed the night-shift dispatcher, a shiver of atavistic fear crawled down her spine. Something told her she wasn’t ready for whatever called her out of her bed, either. **** “You can’t ignore this any longer, Debby. ” Debby phased out Gor Petrov’s statement and concentrated instead on the brutally tortured body of a young girl who wouldn’t see her graduation day next June. Cindy Long had been a classmate of her Deputy Bud Traskus’s deceased nephew Donnie. Three Bear Hollow teenagers had died in the last two months because of crystal meth and its growing influence in the area. Cindy brought the number to four dead teens, cut down in their prime by the scourge. Debby kicked at an empty box of Sudafed left next to the body and cast angry eyes at the remains of a fire. The stink of ammonia and acetone lingered in the air. The girl had obviously stumbled across a meth lab and was killed to ensure her silence. Debby and her deputies had worked many eighteen- hour-days since the first death in late August, but had made no headway in tracking down the culprits. The townspeople blamed progress and eyed newcomers and passers-through with more and more suspicion. But the three who stood over Cindy’s torn body knew the real cause—Darius, a practitioner of dark chaos magick, who’d assisted Laird Benjamin in the kidnapping of Selena Jones. Darius was a member of a splinter group of dark witches who’d followed the late Warrick Bettencourt. This same band of badass witches had taken over Benjamin’s Chicago underworld empire and now targeted all Coven holdings, in particular the newest one in Bear Hollow. So far, the dark ones had attacked through their mere-mortal allies—the meth cookers and dealers. It was their warped invitation for the Coven to come out and defend the people under its protection. Unfortunately, the dark ones had covered their tracks all
too well. No one had a clue as to where their local headquarters was. The area surrounding Bear Hollow was rife with caves and hollows in which to hide. “Call Drake, Gor. Tell him to send more security personnel to the farming commune,” she requested, but not without a boatload of regrets. Debby heard Bud’s sharp intake of breath and his lowly muttered “about time.” Her deputy had urged her to solicit the Coven’s aid immediately after his nephew’s death, but she’d put him off, not wanting to admit that she needed a bunch of witches and their magick to help her do her job. Three more teens died because of her pride. Because of her fear of magick. More guilt for her to bear. Lately, she’d suspected that crystal meth was just the tip of the iceberg. The note pinned to Cindy’s skin verified it: “Coven cowards, come out and face us if you dare. More innocents will die until you do.” It was more than past time to take the help the Coven could provide. Darius and his followers were without morals and had the ability to cause a lot more harm—and death—in the future. The Coven security personnel would be needed. Plus, it was really their battle. After all, if they hadn’t come to Bear Hollow, the evil wouldn’t have followed. Of course, more of a Coven presence meant that Boris would come to Bear Hollow. She would just have to pray that Boris would be too busy chasing Darius and his dark followers to chase her too. Together Boris and Gor were super- investigators and might have what it took to track Darius to his lair. Truth was that she and her deputies couldn’t handle Darius and his minions on their own—not without using her magical ability. And she had no intention of ever using that again. “Make sure the note the bastards left on her body is marked ‘For Sheriff’s Eyes Only,’” she instructed Bud. “I sure as hell don’t want the general public to know that the assholes are killing kids with crystal meth to draw a group of witches out to fight. We don’t need a modern-day Salem on top of this mess. There are already enough rumors circulating about the nature of the commune as it is.” The rumors had worried her. She suspected that Darius had started those, too. He wanted chaos. Locals versus commune witches. Witches versus his dark army. Debby turned and stomped away. She had to call Cindy’s parents and inform them that their only child had been found, dead and mutilated. There were days she really hated this job. And there had been far too many of them in the recent months. **** Bud turned to look at Gor. “She’s taking this too personally,” Bud said. “We warned the kids, but they think they’re immortal at that age.” Gor observed the strain on Bud’s face, heard it in the man’s voice. For the first two weeks after Donnie’s death, Bud had shut down, and then he’d pulled on some inner reserves and taken on the mantle of an avenger. Gor knew that the mere- mortal had his heart and mind in the right place, but would be of little real help in the battle ahead. Dark witches like Darius were not an easy enemy to overcome. Even with reinforcements from the Coven and his own twin, Gor wasn’t sure they could defeat the dark brand of chaos magick that Darius wielded. They didn’t
know enough about it, and because of its very nature, the magick morphed continuously. Only a few witches like Rhea, the wife of Coven leader Drake Morgan, and Debby, seemed to be able to defend against it. Rhea was pregnant with a second child and Drake wouldn’t allow her to leave Chicago. Their only hope to get ahead of Darius and his ilk was Debby—and she refused to use her great power because of an incident in her past. Gor only hoped that his brother could break through Debby’s strong aversions to magick in time to save them all.
Chapter Two The next Day, Bear Hollow Immediately upon arriving in Bear Hollow, Boris entered his sister-in- law Selena’s herbal shop. The shotgun layout of the store allowed him to see into the back where Selena mixed her herbs, concocted her homeopathic solutions, and made her aromatherapy candles and dried wreaths. There was no one in the front of the store, neither customer nor clerk, so Boris walked through the shop and into the back room. His discerning gaze discovered a slight bulge of Selena’s tummy under the empirewaist cotton peasant top. “You’re pregnant!” He rushed forward and grabbed her by her still- narrow waist and lifted her off the ground in a bear hug. “I’m gonna be an uncle! When? ” Selena laughed, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Put me down, you oaf. And as for when, about six months.” June Teague entered the back room through the rear door. Her arms were filled with goldenrod and Queen Anne’s lace from the garden at the back of the cottage-shop. She smiled at Boris. “And all the old biddies are counting their fingers and toes. Gor only made an honest woman of her last month. ” “Let them count,” Selena said with a laugh. “At least the man married me.” Boris gently set Selena down and kissed her on the forehead. “And a very happy honest man, he is. Or at least that’s what he tells me every time I call him to check on Debby. ” “Speaking of my daughter, babies, and honest men, ” June interposed as she laid the wildflowers on a worktable. “When are you going to stop courting my gal on the astral plane and start some serious wooing? I’ve got piles of baby things all waiting to be worn. ” Selena eyed the older woman. “I thought those baby clothes were for my baby. ” “Nope. You’re having a girl. Debby and Boris are having twin boys according to my vision. ” Boris blindly felt for a chair and plopped into it. “Twins? Boys?” He gulped and stared at June. “When?” “Well, not until you’ve managed to make love to her in the real world, that’s for damn sure,” huffed June as she set about tying the flowers she’d just picked into bundles for drying. “I thought there were issues to our union, ” Boris said. “Other than Debby’s stubbornness, that is.” “Most of those were handled back in Illinois,” June said. “The final obstacle was getting you here. And, here you are. So what I foresaw is right on track—unless Fate decides to throw a curveball before you two get to the baby- making part.” Boris smiled at the thought of making babies with Debby. She’d look awfully damn sweet with her tummy rounded by his children. “What about Darius and his thugs bringing crystal meth to Bear Hollow? Was that in your vision of our future?” Selena asked, covering her stomach protectively with a hand.
“Gor is afraid they’re going to cause death and destruction beyond what the drugs have.” “Well, they can try. ” June’s lips twisted. “I can’t see any more than what I’ve already seen. Just be assured that now that Boris is here to help, old Darius has a battle on his hands. In the meantime, I’ll just keep on making baby clothes for Debby’s hope chest.” Her lips narrowed into a stern frown. “Now, Boris, don’t take any more crap off of my daughter. She needs you. She’s burning the candle at both ends and has aged these last few months.” Boris read that statement as meaning “since she left him in Illinois and ran home.” June continued, “You can stay in town with me. Debby’s old room is empty. I think you need to be close to the action rather than out at your cabin.” Boris chuckled. “I was hoping you’d offer. Drake sent some extra security guys and they’re bunking at my place. They’ll be close enough if Gor and I need them, plus they can keep an eye on Gor and Selena’s place at the same time.” “Good!” June rubbed her hands with glee. “I expect Darius to be dead and his gang decimated soon. See to it, Boris. Then make me some grandbabies. I’m not getting any younger.” Boris got up from the chair and walked to his soon-to-be-maybe mother- in- law. Hugging her, he said, “I’ll do my best.” **** Gor leaned his muscled length against the counter in the front office of the Sheriff’s Department. “She in?” He angled his head toward Debby’s office. “Yeah. ” Daisy Miller, the long-time dispatcher, glanced at him, a warning look in her eyes. “You want your head bit off?” “That bad, huh? ” “Well, let’s just say if she were older I’d say she was in full-blown menopause.” Daisy eyed him. “You aren’t going to make her any sweeter, are you? ” “Nope.” Gor grinned. “My brother just got into town, and according to the thoughts he just sent me, he’s planning on staying with June—in Debby’s old room. ” “I may take that vacation I’ve been putting off,” groused the usually unflappable dispatcher. “She’ll not like that bit of news at all.” “That’s why I thought I’d give her a head’s up,” Gor explained. “Before she got the unpleasant surprise tonight at dinner.” “Brave man, ” murmured Daisy. “I’ll place flowers on your grave every Sunday. ” Gor laughed. Leaning over the counter, he bussed the woman’s cheek. “Do you want to let her know I’m coming in? ” “Nah. ” She blushed and petted his cheek. “Why not take her by surprise? Maybe taking her unawares will give you the edge you need to escape with your manhood intact.” Snorting at the older woman’s attempt at a joke, Gor barely managed to keep his hands away from his balls. The fact that his new boss and his brother’s intended mate was a ball-buster had become readily evident after he’d come to live permanently in Bear Hollow. Because of his extensive security expertise and his shape-shifter strength and psi abilities, he’d been an irresistible addition to the Sheriff’s Department. But Debby had quickly turned out to be an exacting task- mistress, far more demanding than even Drake
Morgan. He didn’t envy Boris taming that tempest. Although his brother had assured him that under all that prickly defensiveness lay a shy, compassionate, gentle, romantic witch of immeasurable powers, Gor was skeptical. Not about the powers bit, he’d seen the evidence of her magical abilities when she’d helped save Selena. But he was pretty darn sure that Debby didn’t have a shy, gentle, or compassionate bone in her whole body. If she did, she’d hidden those kinder aspects pretty darn well. Whatever her personality, Debby had earned his loyalty and respect by saving Selena, his brother, and him in Illinois. He eyed the closed door as if it might explode, then girded his loins and gave it one short, hard rap. A growled “come in” was his only answer. Debby’s desk looked as if a tornado had struck. Papers were strewn everywhere. Buried under the massive amount of documents, the edge of a book caught his eye. The spine read OBE: The Real Truth. He smiled. So, Boris was using the Drake Morgan method of wooing. June had intimated as much, but he hadn’t dared asking his brother for confirmation. His twin would’ve knocked him on his ass for the effrontery. Boris was touchy to the point of over-protectiveness on the subject of his mate. As it should be. The gods knew he’d beat the crap out of any man who asked sexual questions about Selena. True shifter mates felt that way about one another. Although Gor had yet to see any evidence of that kind of devotion in Debby for his twin, his brother insisted it was there, buried under layers of self-defense mechanisms. Debby eyed him through narrowed lids. “Are you going to just stand there with a smart-ass smirk on your face or are you gonna spit out what you came to tell me?” Her awareness hit him hard. “You already know, don’t you? ” “If you mean, do I know that Bo just blew into town? Yeah. He managed to break through my strongest mental walls and told me so himself a few seconds before you knocked. Damn him.” With jerky, angry motions, she strafed fingers through long dark curls. Her violet-colored eyes shot angry sparks. “How in the hell did he break through those shields? I thought I had him blocked.” Her face was haggard and drawn from a combination of a lack of sleep and worry. Waves of despondent energy flowed from her into the room around her. It was hard put for Gor not to absorb the energy and become depressed himself. Although her question had probably been rhetorical, he decided to throw her a bone—and just maybe help his brother’s courtship. Or not. “Your mental shields worked before because of the longer distance. If he’d had a charm made out of something of yours, he might’ve been able to break through your conscious shields even from Chicago. You have to realize that shape shifters have strong mental abilities.” “Great. So now that he is here, he can just barge into my head?” “Yeah. It’s what true shifter mates do. And once you’ve consummated the relationship and your psi patterns become more fully attuned, he’ll be able to communicate at any distance even without a charm.” “That’s just- frigging- fabulous.” She pursed her mouth as if she’d just swallowed something foul-tasting. “And stop talking about mates and consummation. It isn’t happening, Gor. Not ever.” She glanced at him, her eyes narrowed. “Since you brought it
up, how can Bo, uh, you know, meet me on the astral plane if he doesn’t have this special charm thingie?” Gor thought about laughing, but decided against it when he caught her look of absolute desperation. His boss lady was really scared. “Anyone who can travel out of body could’ve met you on that plane of reality. Your mother, me, or Selena. Boris is just more motivated than most. Also, you both tend to travel at the higher levels because of your magical abilities and your previous out-of-body experiences. So he has fewer places to look for you. ” “Damn, then the book was right,” she muttered. Gor pulled the book in question out from under a precarious pile of paper. “This book?” “That’s the one.” She glared at it as if it were her mortal enemy. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?” “If you mean by that euphemism that you won’t be able to avoid Boris on the astral plane, yeah. He’ll find you no matter where you go in your dreams.” “Will it be like the book says? Since he’ll be closer now, will it be more, uh, real?” Her facial expression all but begged that bit of information to be wrong. Gor chose to give it to her straight. She’d find out the truth sooner or later—much sooner if he knew his brother. “It will be so hot that you’ll have real time, real body orgasms, especially if he is touching yo u. Just a finger on your skin will be enough contact. Might as well have the real thing, if you ask me.” “No one asked you, ” she snapped. At least her color was back now. She’d been far too pale and listless when he’d arrived. “That’s how I wooed Selena,” Gor offered, adding insult to injury. “Drake Morgan wooed his complement Rhea that way also. It’s a very successful way of easing a mate into a real world sexual relationship.” “Just shut up, Gor.” Debby rubbed a shaky hand over her forehead. “Do you think he’d lay off until after we stop this Darius creep and his meth-happy gang? I really don’t need this extra grief right now. I’ve got people depending on me to save their kids.” Gor solemnly shook his head. “I was afraid of that.” Debby pinned him with an evil glare. “Why is he bothering me? I have told him again and again I don’t want him.” “Maybe it’s because he knows you are fooling yourself—and you do want him.” “No!” All the color leached from Debby’s face once more. “That can’t happen. I won’t let it. It doesn’t matter what he wants—or what I want. I can’t live in your world. It’s too dangerous.” “Why is it too dangerous, Debby? ” he asked gently. “I can’t talk about it. Ever. Bo knows. Ask him.” Debby turned her face toward her desktop and busily began to shuffle through the mess. “Debby, ” Gor said in low soothing tones. “Boris and I can help. The resources of the Coven can help.” Debby didn’t look at him, but said in the coldest tone of voice he’d ever heard from her. “No one can help me, don’t you get it? If someone could, I wouldn’t be so damned
scared. Now, unless you have real law enforcement business to conduct, get the hell out of my office. You’re on duty tonight if I recollect. Go home. And shut the door behind you.” **** The snick of the door closing sounded like a shot in the quiet of the room. Debby tossed the papers that she’d shuffled through onto the desk. Sighing, she rubbed her aching forehead again and again, hoping to relieve some of the tension. Her mother had always told her that the Father and the Goddess never threw more at you than you were able to handle, but Debby was pretty damn sure her mother was wrong. If Fate put any other obstacles in her path, Debby might damn well implode under all the pressure. Boris was here. She’d have to deal. And he would have to accommodate her until after Darius was gone and the drugs and violence were out of her little town. Then if he wanted to fuck her brains out, she’d let him—right before she ran again. She was very much afraid that once Boris had put his scent on her, he’d never let her go. So she’d have to run far enough away that he got the message this time. Cowardly? Yes. It wasn’t a matter of not being able to love and trust Boris, she was pretty sure she could do both. In fact she was already there—she did love and trust him. He was everything a woman could want in a man. But she couldn’t trust herself or her powers in his world. Boris and the rest would have to face reality—she was afraid of her own abilities and had no confidence in ever controlling them. Her confidence had died at the age of fourteen when her powers, enhanced by her overly strong shadow self, had tapped into dark magick and killed some of her best friends. She couldn’t take that kind of chance again with people’s lives. She just couldn’t. **** “What is it with your mate?” Gor demanded of his brother. “Why is she so afraid of her powers? She handled them just fine back in Illinois when she took on the Ancients and Darius’s henchmen. Some of the Elders told Drake that her elemental powers were off the scale.” “And they are.” Boris waved his hand toward a chair on the front porch of Selena’s shop, indicating that Gor should sit. “But she’s afraid of those powers, afraid of losing control and tapping into her shadow self. She’s letting one big, tragic mistake when she was a teenager color her thoughts and emotions. My bébé is one mixed up little witch. ” “So, what did she do that has her paralyzed with fear?” Gor asked, leaning forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees. “It’s her story to tell. I can’t reveal a secret of my mate’s.” “She told me to ask you. ” Gor shook his head. “She sounded resigned—and scared— to its coming out. I’ve never seen her so despondent. Maybe you should lay off with the astral plane sex. She’s exhausted and almost ill from worry and, I suspect, a lack of sleep.” “I can’t lay off,” Boris said. “It’s imperative we mate. My gut tells me that we’ll
need Debby’s powers and her darker self to defeat Darius. After mating, I can more easily help her ove rcome her fears—just as you helped Selena deal with her shadow self.” “Fine, I trust your gut. So, tell me—what happened all those years ago?” “From what I’ve garnered from Debby’s memories, she’d come across some books on some of the more darker, and destructive, aspects of magick that her mother had hidden. ” Gor’s shocked gasp of “What…” had Boris quickly adding, “Don’t ask me why June had them, I don’t know. And I’m not sure that it makes any difference now. We know June to be a healer and a psychic, but not a trained witch. ” Gor nodded. “She might’ve been attempting to see where her abilities lay. But it was her daughter who was the innate witch. ” “Yes. And Debby was filled with awe and typical teenage hubris at what she could do. Instead of sticking with healing and balance spells, she let her curiosity and overconfidence lead her into tapping into her shadow self.” “And I suppose as with all teenagers, she had to show off to her friends,” Gor added. “Exactly. Her friends thought it was a lark and egged her on to bigger and bigger acts. Until one night she went too far.” Bo leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “She and some friends were out on a lake. One of the boys dared her to create a water spout—obviously something she’d done in the past with less than harmful results. So she did.” “What happened?” “A massive thunderstorm erupted, causing multiple water spouts to emerge. The calm mountain lake became treacherous; the swells were too deep for the small boat to handle.” Gor groaned. “How many drowned?” “No one drowned. Using pure instinct and a huge amount of elemental power, Debby managed to lift them to shore on a strong wind. Unfortunately, the extra energy she used to transport her friends created an electrical storm of such gigantic proportions that it was later reported as a freak meteorological occurrence unlike anything ever seen in the Smoky Mountains.” Gor remained silent, staring at his brother. The horrible pictures painted themselves in his mind. Dark skies filled with lightning. Torrential rains. The white conical shapes of deadly water spouts. Strong winds buffeting a small boat and creating huge waves. Frail mere- mortals and one inexperienced witch caught in Mother Nature’s ultimate fury. An equation for deadly results. “Two boys were electrocuted, charred beyond recognition. One thousand acres of original growth forest burned to the ground from fires caused by the excessive lightning, leaving animals and people homeless.” Boris paused, a pained look crossing his face. “Debby and two others made it out alive but were hospitalized for smoke inhalation and minor burns. The two friends blamed Debby publicly, but the authorities chalked their statements up to shock from the storm, their dangerous escape through the burning woods, and the ir friends’ deaths.” “So, she vowed never to open the Pandora ’s Box of magick again lest she destroy the world around her,” Gor concluded. “Yes. And since the time in Illinois, she realizes that her powers are greater than
ever. She is even more afraid.” “I thought she lacked compassion, but I was wrong, wasn’t I?” “Yes, she has too much. ” Gor hesitated, then said, “But with the right kind of education…” “Sure, with the maturity that comes with age, she could learn to balance her shadow self and channel her powers. But that is the calm voice of reason talking. First, we have to deal with the results of what happened all those years ago—and that is Debby’s guilt. It has blocked her rational self and made her afraid of her own judgment. Like Selena, she has a damaged soul and needs healing.” “And you think you can heal her?” “I know I can, ” Boris said softly. “I’ll heal her with love and trust. Something she hasn’t had a lot of in her life.” “But June…” Gor started. Boris shook his head sadly. “June loves her daughter but has never trusted her to choose her own path. Her father trusted her, but never loved her for what she really was. Both parents wanted Debby to be them—and not herself. She needs me to help her find her balance in this world. And Goddess and the Father know, I need her.” Gor reached for his brother’s hand. Boris grabbed it. A surge of warmth and love flowed between the two. “I’m here for you, brother. Selena and I will help however we can.” “I know. But this is a battle I must fight and win myself. All our lives might depend on the outcome.”
Chapter Three Later that evening, Debby’s house The knocks on the door were abrupt, loud, and increasing in frequency. The only thing that stood between her and the angry man on the other side was one solid piece of oak and a steel deadbolt, neither of which would stop the furious Russian in the long run. Boris’s mental assaults on her shields were just as intense as the physical assault on the door and had punched through her puny attempts at thwarting his access. His telepathic assaults were lengthy and explicit about what he perceived as her cowardice. So be it. Nothing she could say or think would change his mind, so why should she even try? “Debby! ” Boris yelled for what must have been the hundredth time. “Open this door. Now.” “No,” she screamed back. “Go away. Leave me alone. I need sleep, you bastard. I haven’t gotten a restful night’s sleep since I left you back in Illinois. I need my rest.” She threw the book she’d been trying to read at the door. The thud sounded like a sonic boom in the suddenly ominous silence. “Go away and torment some other unfortunate female.” No answer from her tormentor. The air grew heavy, weighing on her skin, her mind until she thought she would scream. A pulsing sound, duller than Boris’s fists hitting wood drew her eyes to the door once more. The door bulged at places, slowly at first, then increasing with speed until the door looked like a bubbling cauldron of wood soup. Suddenly, Boris’s escalating anger, defying physics, flowed through the wooden barrier as if it weren’t there. His raging emotions were now even more tangible and swarmed over her tired, aching body like a hive of angry bees. Debby screamed. The stinging sensation ceased. She panted through the aftermath of pain, both physical and psychic. All was quiet again. Too quiet; it set her nerves on edge. Tentatively, she stretched her mind to touch Boris’s, but found nothing but his solidas-steel protective walls and inky darkness. It irked her how easily he could keep her out of his mind while still breaching her strongest shields. Usually, Boris’s mind was open and receptive to her infrequent touches. Why block her now? Was he that mad at her? Why go quiet all of a sudden after letting loose his pricking rage? The sneaky bastard was up to something. Or, maybe he thought she’d open the door to see if he’d left? Fat chance. Strong arms imprisoned her from behind. “How did you get in?” she cried out, her heart leaping into her throat at the scare he’d given her. Warm breath ruffled the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail and lay on her neck. A sharp nip of teeth at her earlobe sent shivers down her spine. Her fright fled, supplanted by new, even more dangerous sensations. She let out a sensual moan despite her resolve not to let him get to her. The bastard had her trained to react to his touch like
a frigging Pavlov’s dog. “Let me go, you brute!” Debby wiggled against Boris’s imprisoning arms, but couldn’t budge them a millimeter. She ceased her bid to escape when her butt rubbed against the pulsing bulge in his jeans. She couldn’t stop a groan as her core went into meltdown. “Tell me,” she gasped. “How did you get in? I locked all the doors and windows.” “I unlocked the back door. Daisy gave me a key. ” “She is so fired,” she hissed as she tried to peel Boris’s fingers from her waist. “You can’t fire her.” Boris chuckled. “She told me she is the duly elected town constable. The town merely lets the Sheriff use their buildings.” Debby let loose a rage- filled screech at Boris’s arrogant confidence and elbowed his ribs. The idiot male merely laughed at her and gave her waist a squeeze. She increased her struggle, kicking her legs and plucking at his hands. Nothing she did budged him. If she didn’t get away—and soon—she’d give in, just like in their astral love-making. The difference being, this time it would be real. “No. Shh. Now be still,” he soothed in what she’d come to call his love-making tone of voice. Low. Rough. Seductive. When he used that tone during their astral plane encounters, orgasms soon followed—hers and his—a mere prelude to many more. “Oh no! We are so not going there!” Debby gritted out; teeth clenched against the moans building at the back of her throat. Boris chuckled. “Oh, yes, we are.” He added insult to injury by lapping her hypersensitive ears and neck with a warm, slightly rough tongue. He continued the sensual journey, tracing a path to her collarbone, which was exposed by the tank top she’d stupidly put on to take a short nap before her second shift of the day. “You are not going back into work tonight!” growled Boris against her shoulder before setting his teeth into her in a male-dominant position reminiscent of his wolfhound animé. He held her captive with his talented mouth, kissing and nipping any exposed skin he could reach. “Stop reading my mind!” She grumbled under her breath, “Especially since you stopped me from entering yours.” His mouth left her shoulder with one last lingering lick to the marks he left. Ignoring her muttering, he continued to scold. “Are you trying to work yourself into an early grave to escape me? Well, I won’t have it.” “It’s all your fault that I’m tired!” she accused in a breathy tone that held much too much whine, too much need, and not enough of the dispassionate assertiveness she’d been aiming for. “You visit my dreams every damn night and I never get any rest.” “Poor bébé. You’d get rest if you didn’t fight me so damn much, ” He turned her to face him. Boris licked the tight seam of her lips. As with the nights of out-of-body lovemaking, her lips blossomed and opened for his tongue. Taking advantage, he plumbed the depths of her mouth, claiming the interior much like an explorer marked territory for king and country. The results in the real world were telling. She was wet, hot, and hungry for his mouth. For his complete possession. Unlike the astral love- making, she couldn’t delude herself that her instantaneous responses weren’t real. They were. Possibly sensing her despair and confusion, Boris broke the kiss and sighed.
His deep satisfaction washed over her, soothing the stings from his earlier anger. He touched his forehead to hers. “At least you’ve remembered what I taught you in those nightly visits.” Angered anew by his allusion, Debby leaned her head back and glared. “You scumsucking, arrogant oaf.” She shoved at his chest in an attempt to put space between them. Once again she couldn’t shift him, not even a millimeter. “You treat me like some astral plane sex object night after night, then you have the audacity to tell me that I’ve learned my responses like … well … a dog learns to beg from his master? Forget it. I’m in control of me. You aren’t.” “Don’t challenge me, bébé.” Boris pulled her against his hips, grinding his hard, throbbing erection against her lower abdomen. Her body responded immediately with an answering wetness and aching between her legs. Her nipples threatened to poke through the thin cotton of her tank top. And, damn him, he smiled at her helpless reaction. “I could have you flat on your back, under me, begging for release in less than half a minute,” he said. “And you know you’d give me what I want.” “No, I wouldn’t give you anything,” she hissed. “You’d be taking. You say you love me, but if this is what you call love, then I want nothing of it. I want more.” Boris’s eyes gleamed at the last three words. Ohshitohshitohshit. She’d made a huge mistake. Given him an opening. Boris wasn’t dumb—he’d take it. She had to remember he could read her like a damn book. As she’d said the words, her thoughts would’ve revealed the truth. How she’d begun to trust him. To need his mental touch, the nightly touch of his astral self. To crave his words of love. To love him. Stupid, stupid, Debby. “You aren’t stupid, just stubborn little hell cat,” he soothed in the gentling tones of a master negotiator who’s sensed the deal is about to be clinched. “You’ve always received pleasure from our out-of-body excursions. And yes, I can sense that you’ve learned to trust me not to hurt you or do anything that yo u don’t desire. But when you accuse me of taking, you are lying to yourself. ” “Yes,” she mumbled, looking down at their touching bodies. “You’ve come to love me?” Not a statement that time, but a question. He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure of her. Good. “No,” she said, angrily denying the thoughts, the truth, he had to have picked from her head only seconds ago. “Debby, so defiant to the end.” He nuzzled the top of her head, his voice gently humoring. “So, what do you call love if not this sharing of minds, bodies, albeit astral ‘til now, and trust?” “I don’t know. ” Debby couldn’t just give herself on a plate. It had been too easy for him to win her over. Any woman would’ve succumbed to his nightly demonstration of caring and tenderness, to his sexual expertise. Boris sighed. “Not just anyone, little cat. Just you. ” He tipped her chin up with a gentle finger. His warm, loving glance swept over her face. His mind touched hers and found the truth she could not keep from him. Boris whispered. “Bébé, you do know, but you’re afraid to say it aloud because then
it would be out there in the real world and have to be dealt with, yes?” Boris’s tone was too understanding, too full of his intimate knowledge of her past and her fears. “Love is…” she hesitated. Boris stroked her cheek. “Go ahead, bébé. Trust me, I’ll never hurt you. ” “Love is a partnership of emotional and physical trust, sharing, and understanding— between equals.” He nipped her lower lips with his teeth. “Have I ever suggested that I didn’t want a partnership between us to be anything less then equal?” he gently scolded. “No, but … but you are always the aggressor,” she whispered. “I’m always the submissive.” “That’s because, bébé, you’ve been too stubborn to take control, too in denial of what we share. In denial of our future.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, then proceeded to lick the tears seeping from her eyes. Staring at him through a watery veil, she whispered, “May we start over? Take things one step at a time, until we get to know one another better on this plane of existence? I don’t really know you. ” She was lying again, but only to herself—not to Boris. He knew the truth and wasn’t afraid to face it. “You know everything important about me. There is nothing else to learn, but I sense your deepest fears. You fear what we shared on the astral plane wasn’t real; that it won’t translate to this plane of existence.” He brushed another kiss across her wet cheeks. “You’re fears are groundless, bébé. We are soul mates—each other’s complement. The re is no other for either of us.” Shaking his head, Boris sighed heavily. “I’d love to give you that promise of more time, little cat, but fate seems to have another plan for us. You’ll just have to extend your trust that the love we’ve shared nightly in your dreams is as real as it gets.” Sniffing back her tears, Debby frowned. “What do you mean ‘fate has other plans for us?’ I thought we handled all that fate crap back in Illinois when I used my magick to battle Darius and his followers.” “That was just the beginning. We have to travel to the next level of our relationship. United in all ways, physically, mentally, and emotionally. In that unity, I can help you overcome the guilt and fears you’ve carried the last fifteen years. Help you balance your shadow self, direct your magick.” “No!” Debby swallowed the scream that threatened to erupt from her throat. Once she started, she might never stop. Her unending fears were so close to the surface now that she could taste the acridness of her long-buried deeds. “I will admit to wanting you … um, caring for you, but I can’t use my powers again. If you truly love me, you won’t ask that of me, Bo. I’m afraid. I could hurt somebody. I could hurt you! ” “See, you do love me.” Boris’s lips flared into a smile that rivaled the sun in its intensity. She’d never seen such an expression of joy on his face. Before, his smiles were always smirks, secretive and, at times, humoring, but never this wide-open view into his soul. “I love you, Debby. Every aspect of you. We can hand le it. Don’t worry. ” “That’s easy for you to say. ” Debby slapped at his shoulders with both hands, tears of anger and worry streaming down her face. “But I do worry, you, you cretin. You do … not … understand … what I can do.”
“Hush, darling,” crooned Boris as he let go of her waist to grab her flailing hands. He kissed first one then the other, licking the fingers. Stroking her. Gentling her. “I do know. I’ve been in your memories. I can help. The Elders can help. You’re letting your fear control you. It isn’t necessary. With assistance, you can control your power and direct it to the good. You are strong. I trust you. Trust me—please?” Debby’s anger deflated like a pricked balloon. She rested her weary, throbbing head on their joined hands. Boris released his gentle grip then pulled her face into his chest. He stroked her back in a soothing circular motion and let her cry out fifteen years of worry, grief, guilt, anger, and denial. If this emotional roller coaster she was riding didn’t scare him away, then nothing would. “It’s okay, Debby. I’m here—and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face what is to come together,” he promised. “I can’t promise that I won’t still have issues about using my magick. Maybe we won’t even need to use it.” “Dark magick has arrived in Bear Hollow. We can’t ignore it. It won’t go away. You’ll have to use your powers—all of them, the dark and the light.” He continued to stroke her back and he gathered her even more closely against him. “But I’ll be here. So will Gor and the other Coven Security personnel. Trust us to help you when the time comes.” Then Boris murmured shakily against her hair, “You know my biggest fear?” Debby shook her head, her face buried in his warm, hard chest. “I fear for you, bébé.” A strong shudder ran through his body at his voiced concern. “I’m afraid that you’ll rush to defend the innocent, refuse to use your magick, and be harmed. I couldn’t handle that.” Debby sighed and unburied her face to peek up at him. Boris’s fear for her was real. It was cast in the stern lines of his face. It swirled like a maelstrom in his mind. “I won’t refuse to help my people. I will protect them to the best of my ability. But I can’t promise that I’ll use the full range of my powers—with or without your guidance. I trust you, Bo, but I don’t trust me.” Boris’s anger at her self-doubt beat against her. “Stop it. Don’t be angry, please?” “I’m sorry, bébé. When you deny your magick, you’re denying a part of you. I love you. I trust you to do the right thing. I’m not sure why you can’t learn to love and trust yourself?” “You know I’m afraid of my powers,” he nodded and started to say something when she placed her fingers on his lips. “Please let me get this out. You really don’t have a clue just how powerful I am. What I did in Illinois was a mere fraction of what I can do. Every day the darkness in me beats to get out. With a few words and a gesture, I could rearrange the whole landscape of Bear Hollow. Fear caused the electrical storm that killed my friends all those years ago. My anger coupled with that same kind of gut-wrenching fear and directed at these dark witch bastards could do even more damage.” “I am in your mind and feel what you feel. But there is more danger from inaction in this case than the possibility that you might lose control and destroy everything in your path. There are more lives at stake than ours and those in Bear Hollow. Once Darius is done destroying this town, he will take his meth production and murderous thugs to other little towns until someone stops him. We have to try to stop them now, before they get even more powerful. Before their darkness feeds and grows stronger on the energy of the
death and destruction they cause.” “That is so not fair, Bo!” said Debby. “Why me? Why you? Why can’t the Coven Elders stop this madman and his followers?” “They would if they could,” Boris said. “But they can’t. Fate suggests that we have a chance—you and I as joined mates.” Boris’s heartbeat thrummed in her head at a speed that was the total opposite of his calm tones and demeanor. Oh my God! Debby examined his face. His eyes burned with desire but were shadowed with wariness. Feelings—fear, love, despair—flew off of him in waves, pounding against her senses. She could even taste what he felt. It was both sour and sweet. Then the heavily shuttered windows into Boris’s deepest thoughts opened widely. His fears and desires were all there, shrouded in darkness with only a glimmer of hope that she’d choose him shining through it all. Her big strong alpha-shifter was more scared of being rejected than he was of the battle ahead with the dark magicians! He loved her with every atom of his being— probably far more than she deserved. It was all there in his mind. His vow to be a faithful and monogamous mate. A superb lover. A devoted father. A trustworthy partner in all things. A brave protector and valiant battle mate. All he needed to be complete in this world and the next was her—and her love. Awestruck, Debby shook her head. He was nothing like the selfish men in her past. He was nothing like her father, a remote and hard to please man. Nothing like her mother who wanted Debby to be what she could not. So, what was she scared of? Boris was everything she needed, wanted. Why was she hesitating in committing herself to this man forever? Why had she run from him in Illinois when she’d realized how it could be between them? “What are you really scared of, bébé?” She shook her head. “I don’t know. ” His warmth flowed into her, healing, giving heat. “You do, little cat. It’s there. Just say it.” And the real reason was there. It had been there all along, taunting her, but remaining unsaid. Until now. She blurted out, “Of failing you. ” There, she’d said it. “I’m afraid of failing you just as I failed my friends that day on the lake.” The weight on her soul lightened just a bit at her admission. Boris smiled, a knowing smile, as if he’d felt the mountain of fifteen years of guilt, fear, and despair begin to erode. “You could never fail me as long as you love me.” That was the right answer. The perfect answer. The answer only her other half could have provided. Bless the Goddess and the Father—and Fate, she’d found a man who’d love and trust her unconditionally. How could she lose? “You can’t lose, Debby. Take a chance on us—please?” “Don’t beg, Bo.” Debby placed her fingers against his lips to stop any further pleas. She teased, “I love your alpha side. It sorta grows on a gal.” “Debby! ” he breathed her name against her fingers, kissing and nipping the pads until she moved them so he could swoop in for a deep, soul-reaching kiss. Another chip of guilt and despair fell away.
The room swirled as her mate swept her to lie flat on the couch. As he kissed and nibbled her neck and shoulders, a harsh ringing startled her and interrupted the sensual mood his lips engendered. “Bo, we need to answer that,” she mumbled against his hair as his hungry mouth worked its way to her breasts. “It might be important.” “This is important.” He raised his head and kissed her thoroughly, his tongue mating with hers. “Let your deputies handle it. You’re off duty, ” growled Boris as he rearranged her limbs beneath him for maximum, full- frontal friction. “In this county, the Sheriff is always on duty, ” she whispered wryly, her hands on his shoulders warding him off his goal of her breasts, now somehow naked. “Damn, I knew you’d say that,” grumbled Boris, leaning his forehead against hers as his hands stroked her aching breasts. The phone continued to ring. Finally, he groaned, mumbled something foul under his breath, then pushed away from her. He stood up, turned, and glared at the front door as if he’d like to destroy it. “Is there someone there?” Debby asked as she struggled to get up to answer the stillringing phone. “I didn’t hear a knock.” A pounding on her front door sounded. The phone stopped its shrill blaring. “I’m gonna kill my brother,” Boris muttered as he stalked toward the front door. “Mom doesn’t need more than one of us.” “Is he out there?” Debby reached out with her mind, followed Boris’s mental path and found Gor. She managed to pull her tangled t-shirt over her breasts just as Boris opened the much-abused portal. “This had better be good, twin of mine, or my niece will be born an orphan. ” Gor peered around Boris and took in Debby’s disheveled appearance. “Damn, I’m sorry, bro. But there’s been a meth lab explosion—and I need the Sheriff.” He eyed her warily. “The State Police responded also.” Debby groaned. “Shit.” Gor nodded. “Yeah, we seem to have a territorial dispute. And, you know, we can’t have outside law enforcement agencies pulled in on this situation. ” Debby groaned again. “Not until we get the woo-woo element eliminated anyway. I’ll change into my uniform. Bo and I will be right behind you. Where was the explosion? ” She paled and gulped, realizing for the first time that Gor’s mental energy was colored by more than anger at an explosion and unwelcome Staties. Grief was there also. “How many dead?” Gor’s face was a carefully controlled blank mask. “Three innocents dead. Plus four bad guys, all mere- mortals and I would have to assume part of Laird’s original Chicago gang.” Boris’s twin rubbed a hand over his weary face, reminding Debby that Gor had been pulling double-shifts also. She should’ve conquered her personal fears and called the Coven in sooner. Her people were tired and dispirited. What a lousy Sheriff she was. “The explosion was at the Happy Hollow Mobile Home Park,” continued Gor. “The lab was in one of the mobile homes. It blew and took out several other trailers. The one next to it had three people inside. No one could get them out. It looks like an atomic bomb was dropped on the area. The forestry people are fighting fires in the surrounding woods, attempting to keep them from spreading. ”
“Shit,” said Boris. He looked at Debby. “I’m here for you, bebe. You aren’t alone any longer. And you are a good Sheriff. You care for your people.” “Thanks, Bo. “ She managed a smile of reassurance for him. He was worried about her. Since her admission of love for him, there’d been no steel walls between the m. Heat flowed from him to her, a sharing of his strength in her time of need. Fully, openly, just as she’d shared her magick with him back in Illinois during his time of need. “That’s what mates do, little cat.” “Well it’s about damn time,” Gor shouted, easily reading the thaw in her and his brother’s relationship. His solemn face lit with happiness for them. Debby blushed. Gor thought they’d completely consummated the relationship. Boris glared at his brother. “You are embarrassing my woman. Wipe that smile off your face, twin, or I’ll smack it off. And stay out of our joined minds. I don’t invade you and your mate’s private thoughts.” “Wiping it off.” Gor turned to leave, the silly grin still on his face despite his brother’s threats. “Hurry. The State Crime Lab is trying to claim the case, that means the troopers will be horning in soon. Happy Hollow is within Bear Hollow and the county’s jurisdiction. To retain our jurisdiction, a formal invite to process the scene on behalf of the Sheriff’s Department is needed to remind the State of that fact—and pronto.” “Although at times it may seem like it, you don’t really need to tell me how to do my damn job, Gor.” Her deputy laughed and winked at her. She shook her head. “Go on! We’re coming! Hold the fort until I get there,” snapped Debby. “Move it.” Gor snapped a salute before he left. Boris laughed and swooped in for a kiss. “I like your style, little hell cat.” “Well, like it while you move, Bo. We can’t let the State bozos take our case! They might do something stupid and bring in the Feds.”
Chapter Four Happy Hollow Mobile Home Park The scene looked like something out of Dante’s Inferno. Just which ring of Hell they’d been tossed into, Debby couldn’t say. Glowing, twisted hunks of burning metal lay strewn about the area as if a giant had thrown a temper tantrum. The smell of burnt flesh underlay the smoke. Debby fought not to gag, struggled not to think about the tortured last moments of the dead. The lingering cries of the dying seemed to linger on the night air, hanging in the smoke and demanding justice. One thing was clear, they’d been very lucky not to have more fatalities. The Happy Hollow Mobile Home Park had a lot of vacancies because of the end of prime tourist season. Upon her arrival, Bud had told her that the other five mobile homes damaged by the explosion and the ensuing fire had been blessedly empty. The three innocents lost in the home next to the lab had been itinerant farm workers, laying over on their way south to Florida and the winter- growing season. Debby spied Lieutenant Dan Stevens, the State Police Crime Lab supervisor, cornered by Gor near the most severely damaged trailer. Their body language shouted imminent violence. She set a determined path toward the men. This was her crime scene and Stevens had damn well better wait to be invited to process it. She sighed. She hated politics, but she was going to play all her political cards and trump the State on this one. No outsiders must learn about the Coven and its magick. Or about her real nature. Gor stood toe-to-toe with the state police supervisor. The argument escalated before her eyes. That surprised her. Gor was a very controlled person. Boris was the impetuous one of the two. Something in the atmosphere wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite pin it down. Shaking off a sense of doom, Debby instinctively submerged herself in her mate-tobe’s mind to find out what was going on with Gor. Before Boris had come to town, she’d often touched Gor’s surface thoughts and emotions during a case, jus tifying it as necessary to do their job smoothly and efficiently. Why have psi abilities in a deputy and not take advantage of them? She wasn’t sure why she didn’t touch Gor’s mind directly except that it didn’t seem proper now that Boris was here. There were limits to respect. As she’d suspected, Boris had merged with his brother to see what the problem was. Gor had stalled as she’d asked, but Stevens was madder than he should be at the political tango Gor was dancing. Blows were definitely imminent. Debby increased her speed, Boris matching her step for step. She didn’t want or need an inter-agency war of ‘who’s got the bigger dick’ on top of everything else. “Be calm, bébé.” Boris’s words flowed across their mental link. “Gor will not cause any trouble. But Stevens is overly excited about this situation. Something is not right with the mere-mortal. It is him you need to worry about.” Debby turned to smile at the man keeping pace by her side. Her mate. She still couldn’t believe she’d committed herself to a relationship with this man—and with the magick that would necessarily ensue.
“Don’t second guess yourself, my love.” Exuding comfort and calm, Boris placed a strong hand on her lower back as he steered her around a fallen piece of charred trailer. “Our love will work out just fine. As will your magick.” As Debby was about to reassure Boris that she’d give it her best shot, she crossed through an invisible barrier. A sharp stabbing in her head almost drove her to her knees. She would’ve have fallen if Boris hadn’t caught her against his side. “Debby! What is it? Did you trip?” Boris swung her into his arms for the second time that evening. He hadn’t felt it. He was in her mind and hadn’t felt the black enchantment encasing the area surrounding the destroyed meth lab. The dark spell was making Stevens act out of control, was propelling Gor to become increasingly hostile toward the mere- mortal arguing with him. “I’m fine,” she gasped. “Put me down and go keep your brother from hitting Stevens. I don’t want the paperwork that would follow a brawl between law officers.” She had to get away—find the source of the dark spell, the source of the murder that had occurred here tonight. And she had to keep whatever that dark source was away from the others—in case she was forced to use her darker powers against it. Boris set her gently on her feet and stroked a hand down her hair. “Be careful where you step, bébé Sheriff. I’ll keep Gor out of trouble.” “I’m fine, Bo.” Debby looked around for an excuse to leave. Spying Bud gesticulating wildly at a fireman, she said, “Go on, get to Gor. I need to see what’s going on with Bud and the Battalion Chief. ” Boris turned his head and followed her line of sight. He frowned and nodded. “Seems to be a lot of short tempers tonight. Go do your job, little cat. Gor and I’ll handle this Stevens guy until you can get there.” On an impulse, Debby touched Boris’s face and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Thanks, Bo. Be careful.” I love you. Boris’s startled expression at her freely given kiss and her silent declaration had her smiling as she made her way to Bud. The dark emotions flowing from the charred and smoking forest surrounding the trailer park soon wiped all traces of humor from her face. She shivered as she walked through air colder than a freezer despite the lingering fires in the area. Cold fire. A dark witch’s tool. He was in the woods, watching and waiting to create even more havoc, cause more death. His malevolent joy at the prospect sickened her. He wouldn’t succeed—not if she had anything to say about it. Digging through the dusty recesses of her mind, she searched for a protection spell learned long ago as a teenager. Invoking it, she cast it to surround Bud and the fireman. She passed them as she entered the woods. The escalating tempers that had raged between the fireman and her deputy had decreased in intensity, but hadn’t ceased. She sighed. It was the best she could do without lingering to reinforce the spell. Things would quickly return to normal once she eradicated the black magick at the source. The psychic path she followed drowned out everything around her and invaded her mind to the exclusion of all. She couldn’t even feel Boris any longer. He was there, he would always be there, but his loving presence in her mind was blocked by a thick noxious cloud of evil. While it scared her that the dark witch could block her mind from Boris’s, she was also grateful. It would keep her shifter unaware; she didn’t want him
running to her rescue and getting caught between her and the bastard witch. Of course, she couldn’t count on Boris’s ignorance for long. He did have the normal five senses and would soon come seeking her. She only hoped she could find and subdue the dark one before that happened. If she could subdue the dark one. The jury was still out on that issue. In Illinois Darius had run away instead of facing her. She wasn’t sure why, just as she wasn’t sure what she could or couldn’t do against his kind of bastardized magick. Even when she helped remove the dark chaos web of death from Boris, she’d had help from Selena, a healer. It was no use worrying about what might be. What happened would happen. Pausing at the edge of the smoky woods, she opened her third eye and, along with her normal senses, searched the darkness beyond. Death and destruction reigned. Blackened trees, still hot, even glowing from the fire, screamed in pain. The death cries of Nature sounded all around her. Several hot spots fed by dark magick spells threatened to erupt into flame again. As she went deeper and deeper into the ruined woods, she unconsciously pulled on the elemental magick she’d taught herself all those years ago. She called upon the earth, water, and air to send rain to douse the fires once and for all— and to begin to heal the forest. As her white magick began its work, the forest sighed its relief. In response to her counter moves, the dark one’s stygian fury swept over her like stinging sleet, biting into her skin. While he’d sensed her opposing magick and retaliated, he couldn’t localize her position. Like a two-year old in a tantrum, he let loose with a widespread barrage of spells meant to punish her, to force her to reveal her location. Why couldn’t he locate her more easily? She thought magick could always zero in on other magick. She’d found his signature, his trail, easily enough. Was there something in her that blocked him? Or was he toying with her? Luring her into a more deadly trap so that he could torture her? Tapping once again into long-buried memories, she invoked a powerful personal protection spell that would camouflage her location from anyone seeking her. As the words of her spell trailed off, a bubble of air surrounded her. The painful assault on her body—and mind—ceased. The general bombardment continued, but now fe ll harmlessly against her shields. Flashes of bright light pulsed and flared as the dark spell’s assault punished her protective shell. A side benefit of the spell was its chameleon- like ability to disguise her appearance. To anyone looking, she would appear to be part of the surrounding forest. As the dark one’s fury increased at his failure to find her, she feared for the thin layer of shields. She muttered a repelling spell, hoping against hope it was the right spell and that she was doing it correctly: Every action culls a reaction, The laws of nature say. He who sows so shall he reap, The Father has proclaimed. What this one sent, Must go back. So mote it be. A howl of rage proclaimed her success. Layering the repelling spell more firmly into the protective shield encasing her, she proceeded in the direction of the dark one’s anger.
With each step, the air grew heavier, weighted down with all the black emotion in the atmosphere. His wrath literally pressed against her. Still she went on. As she neared the heart of the darkness, a prickle of sensation, a slight stirring, flittered across her psychic senses. Danger screamed loudly in her head. A trap! A slight swishing sound from above, like cloth brushing across cloth, and the cries of birds chased from the trees alerted Debby. She leapt out of the path of a rust-red net just in time. The finely woven netting lay across the undergrowth of the forest. It oozed an acidic mix of dark emotions and dripped with the blood of a slaughtered innocent. The failed trap ate at the vegetation just as it would’ve eaten at her protective shield, and then her skin, sizzling and emitting a foul metallic smell. Calling down even more healing rain, Debby diluted the caustic mess and replaced the putrid odors with the smell of Spring and rebirth. An answering growl of disappointment tinged with grudging respect sounded in the darkness. So far her long-ago- learned elemental magick had done her some good. But underneath her calm and seeming control, the darker part of her nature struggled to burst forth to meet the iniquity calling to it from the woods. “Witch, why are you with those losers?” a rough raspy voice called. The speaker was not far. She opened her third eye even wider in an attempt to see through the steam left by the healing rain shower. A rock outcropping lay about twenty feet ahead. His presence behind that shelter of rocks beat on her brain. As she headed for the dark witch’s hiding place, he stepped out into the open. His leanly muscled body was covered head to toe in unrelieved black. Pure, unrepentant power radiated from him. His pale face held a stark beauty until she looked past the surface and found the ugliness lying behind his burning silver eyes. Those rapacious eyes sought her, yet passed unseeing across her position. Chancing that her spells would hold the closer she got, she approached with caution. She added even more power to her shields. Her only hope of defeating him would lie in her stealthy approach—and a surprise attack. Her shielded body brushed up against some prickly bushes. The brittle branches crackled and swayed at her motion. She froze in place, not even daring to breathe. Had he heard that? Or would he chalk it up to the slight breeze her use of elemental magick had stirred? His gaze still swept the area like a bird of prey on the hunt, but he didn’t concentrate on any one area. She was safe and allowed herself to release the breath she’d been holding. Moving again, she avoided the bushes, but couldn’t keep her feet from disturbing the pine-needle-covered ground. The fire had not touched in this part of the forest. The dark witch had hidden here, in complete safety as he directed the deadly attack, observing its results in complete safety. “You are not Darius.” She projected her voice to echo off the trees. Debby stopped about ten feet away, hoping against hope that he hadn’t noted her approach, wasn’t laying a trap for her to walk into. Just in case, she left herself enough room to maneuver. He still shouldn’t be able to see her, but this close, he could make a pretty damn good guess as to where she stood. A full stream of his power blasted in an
180-degree arc could potentially destroy her shields. Proving her right, he turned toward her voice. She moved slowly away from his direct line of sight, being careful not to disturb the needle-covered forest floor anymore than she already had. She only hoped that her shields merged seamlessly with the surroundings. “I am Ezra. Darius does not deign to menial tasks such as these.” He swept a hand in the general direction of the trailer park and the destruction in the forest. “You deliberately blew up your own lab. Your own people.” It wasn’t a question. She sensed his satisfaction at the night’s work. Ezra chose to answer her anyway. “Yes, Sheriff Teague. Darius knew you would come. He wants to talk with you. He was impressed with your ability to stop him in Illinois.” Ezra scanned the darkness, his odd fiery-silver eyes once again passing over her form. “He knows you are like us. He wants you to join with us.” Debby shuddered at the hidden meaning in his words. She gleaned from his mind the naked truth. “Join with us ” was a euphemism for her debasement. They would use her body, then absorb her power for themselves. First, Darius. Then Ezra. Then the rest of Darius’s coven. She’d kill herself first. Ezra smiled evilly. “Maybe. But you will live long enough for us to sate ourselves with you. To allow us to bathe in your power.” By all the gods, he could read her! Gut-wrenching fear tore through her as she strengthened all her shields, mental and physical. He raised a hand toward her in a come- hither movement and mumbled some words in a language she didn’t understand, but knew couldn’t mean anything good. Debby leapt straight up, calling upon the wind to give her a boost. She grabbed a tree limb and scrambled onto its hefty solidness before Ezra had finished his spell-casting. His magick hit nothing but empty space. “You can’t escape me for long, bitch, ” he growled, scanning high and low for her current position. Several times his senses swept over her, but her protection spell held. “I know that you have little formal training. White magick spells wielded by a neophyte, even a powerful neophyte, will do you no good. Elemental magick is nothing against the power of dark chaos magick. Come to us willingly, and we could make your usage and death pleasurable. Make me chase you down and I swear on the Dark Father that you will die very, very slowly and in great pain. ” Debby remained silent. The dark energy within her coiled and readied itself. It seemed as if her shadow self fed on the foulness that was Ezra. “Let us loose. Let us free. Let us. Let us.” She shuddered like a racehorse waiting to leave the gate. The hissing pleas for freedom beat against her brain. She bit her lips to keep from crying out—and held on, working at controlling the powerful forces within her. Afraid, yet strangely excited, at the power she could unleash with a mere thought. Pulling on even more dark energy, Ezra repeated the spell he’d just let loose. The air around her stood absolutely still, waiting, anticipating the words of completion. Her powers struggled to be let free; she wasn’t sure she could control them any longer. Just when everything seemed to verge toward an explosive culmination, a dark shadow leaped from the forest and took Ezra out at the knees. A second dark shape followed and went for the downed witch’s throat.
Boris and Gor had found her. Until this actual moment, she hadn’t felt true fear. Anticipation, repulsion, yes, but not gut-wrenching fear. But seeing Boris take on Ezra, her heart leapt into her throat and threatened to choke her. The memory of Boris locked in the throes of the dark chaos web of death still haunted her nightmares. Ezra could easily kill her shifter with one muttered spell. “Bo! Get out of the way!” Boris ignored her and shook Ezra as if he were a chew bone. Blood flew all around. Yet Ezra still breathed and as long as he was alive, he was dangerous. Gor, wisely, had backed off and stood as if waiting to help his brother finish off the dark witch. The twins acted on pure animal instinct now. All of Boris’s thoughts were “kill, kill, kill the one who threatened his mate.” Cursing under her breath, Debby ruthlessly grabbed control of her darker powers, dropped her shields, and jumped from the limb upon which she’d perched. Focusing on Ezra’s head and mind, she prepared to kill the dark witch before he could harm her man. “Put your shields back up and stay away, bébé. Others could be in the area. This one’s ability to speak spells is gone—I tore out his throat. Oh, and remind me to spank you later for leaving the safety of the clearing without me.” “Shut up, Bo. I was just doing my job.” She danced around the edges of the dogfight in an attempt to see if Boris had really silenced Ezra. “And I was doing just fine, thank you very much. So much for trusting me to use my magick.” “You used elemental white magick, little hell cat. Ric and Brock arrived and could sense it. Elemental white magick will not hold one such as this one.” “Well, we’ll never know if I could’ve used the dark stuff, since you interrupted me at the telling point.” Debby stepped back as Boris ceased mauling Ezra. Ric Martin and Brock Sullivan, two of the Coven’s prime witches who had moved to the area after Gor married Selena, materialized and flanked her as if they guarded her from the motionless dark witch. “He’s dead, guys. I don’t think I need a set of bodyguards now, ” she said, anger coloring her tone. Boris shimmered and shifted to his glorious nude self. Only Ezra’s dark red blood on his chin spoiled his golden magnificence. Debby took in his naked perfection. Her body reacted too easily to his nudity, readying itself for sex. She blamed all the astral passion for that. There was no way she should want to throw him to the ground and fuck him right after he tore someone’s throat out. But she did. Throbbing with need, fighting it, she closed her eyes in an effort to regain control. But even there images of Boris and her rolling on the ground of the forest played like a slide-show in her mind’s eye. Arms surrounded her. She smelled him. Sweaty, musky male underlaid with the scents of green grass on a hot day, summer rain, pine trees, and sex—he smelled like sex. His moist heat plastered itself aga inst her back as he pulled her against his hard, naked body. Against his fully engorged cock. His arms tightened momentarily. “Don’t ever run off like that again, little cat.” Angling her head, her eyes flew open and glared into his flaming golden ones. “I was doing my job, Bo. I was doing what you asked me to do. You do want me to use my
magick to defeat these creeps, yes?” “Yes, but…” “There is no ‘yes but’ about it. Ezra challenged me. I met his challenge and was doing just fine, thank you very much, until you and your brother came swooping in and killed the man responsible for murdering humans tonight in my jurisdiction. He was a criminal, and I was going to take him in.” “He was going to take you with him!” Boris shook her. “Ric heard him. He was muttering the words to a transportation spell.” “Transportation spell? So that’s what that was.” Debby mused, recalling the words and committing them to memory. She waved a hand in the air, nearly hitting Boris’s nose. “No matter, I knew what he was doing was bad and I had a rebound spell in place. He couldn’t touch me. If you’d waited two more seconds, I would’ve had him bound and helpless.” Or, dead, she admitted to herself. Her power had been so hungry, so strong. She might have killed Ezra just as Boris had—but they’d never know now, would they? “Ahem.” Ric Martin stood off to the side, looking back toward the trailer park. “I hate to interrupt this intensely interesting conversation, but mere- mortals are coming this way.” “Shit!” Debby struggled to get out of Boris’s arms. After an angry nip to her neck, which he immediately licked, Boris released her. She must be nuts, but she missed his angry arms. “You’d better get dressed, Bo, and we need to get our stories straight on who or what did old Ezra in. ” Gor, already dressed, watched the path back to the crime scene, his nose in the air, his head alert to the sounds. “May I suggest we tell the others that a wild dog frightened by the fire attacked and killed Ezra? It worked several months ago when I was forced to shift and kill the men after Selena.” Ric thrust some clothes at Boris. “Sounds like a good idea to me. There’s no way that they can either prove or disprove the story. ” “Especially since we’ll be eyewitnesses,” Boris added. He reached for Debby’s arm, anchoring her to his side with an iron grip. “And you are not off the hook, little hell cat. We will discuss this habit you have of running away from me—later. In private.” “You are not going to lecture me on this, Bo. I was doing my job, and could’ve handled him.” She shrugged his hand off. “Now put the damn clothes on, ” she hissed. “Even I can hear them coming now. ” Ric stepped to her side as Boris dressed. Ric’s voice was low, but Debby knew that it was to keep whoever was coming toward them from hearing. But not so low that Boris, Gor and Brock wouldn’t be able to hear. “Ezra was a mid- level witch when he began to follow Bettencourt back in Chicago. You might have bound him, but not for long. He would’ve gotten out of it using dark chaos magick and taken you. You should’ve killed him, using whatever dark powers you have upon first seeing him. You can’t fight these dark ones, Debby. Elemental—white—magick can’t defeat them. ” “I can’t believe that’s true, Ric.” Debby moved to stand by Gor in order to meet the State Police officers approaching their position. “I read about the Battle of Lincoln Park. Rhea and Drake Morgan defeated Bettencourt using white magick. Why can’t I?” Gor’s lips quirked in a parody of a smile. “Good question. But the circumstances are not the same. Your mate is not another powerful white witch. He is a shifter. While he
can take out a dark witch with brute strength and the element of surprise, he has no magical powers to add to yours.” “Plus,” Boris added in a whisper, crowding her from the opposite side. “Rhea was pregnant and the power of three was invoked. We suspect, but haven’t been able to prove absolutely, that dark magick couldn’t defeat that triumvirate of pure goodness and light.” “I still think I could’ve taken him.” Boris snorted in laughter. “Gods, I think I’ve created a monster. When you find your faith in yourself, you do it with a vengeance, little one.” “Damn straight,” she whispered. Pasting a professional look of calm on her face, she strode to meet Lieutenant Stevens, his team, and Bud Traskus. Time to play politics and steer the crime scene discussion toward the conclusion she needed for her report. Accidental explosion due to the criminal production of crystal meth. Innocent tourist—Ezra—killed by a wild, firecrazed dog or wolf. Later she’d make it very clear to her m…, um, Boris that she was the Sheriff and he’d better let her do her job without any over-protective interference.
Chapter Five Debby’s cottage “Debby, stop ignoring me. We’re going to discuss this habit you have of running away from me.” Debby opened the door to her place and entered. Boris stormed through before she could shut the door. She sighed. She just wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about what he expected or didn’t expect from her. And she wasn’t in the mood to mate with him either. Not tonight. The earlier mood, the pre-Ezra mood, had vanished with all the death and destruction at the mobile home park and the confrontation in the woods. She understood Boris had been scared for her, but she was hand ling the situation until he’d barged in and taken over. She might have been able to question Ezra—or at the very least trick him into allowing her into his mind to read where Darius and the rest of his merry little band of murdering terrorist witches were hidden. But Boris and Gor had cut off that avenue of inquiry. Boris wasn’t the only person in this room who was pissed. Of course he could read her every thought, which only added to the increasing strain between them. He wasn’t happy with her. Tough. She wasn’t going to allow him to dictate to her in the real world as he did on the astral plane. He couldn’t have it both ways. She either did her job and used her magick, or she didn’t. And she couldn’t do her job if he tied her hands and restricted her ability to make instantaneous decisions as she had at the mobile home park. She had saved lives by going off to confront Ezra alone—she knew it and he knew it. “Of course, I know it.” Boris slammed the door, using an excessive amount of force, then locked it. The loud snick of the deadbolt shooting home echoed off the walls. “You shouldn’t have blocked me! I was terrified that the dark witch had you. ” “I didn’t.” Debby headed for the kitchen. She was starved; using magick took a lot of energy. “And he didn’t get anywhere near me.” “What do you mean you didn’t block me?” Boris dogged her heels as if he were herding an errant sheep. “I didn’t. He did.” She jerked open the refrigerator and studied the contents as if her next meal was the most important thing in the world. It was that or hit her mate for doubting her. That was what stuck in her craw the most—that he’d told her she was a key to bringing down the dark witches in Bear Hollow, and then he proceeded to doubt her ability to do it. He couldn’t have it both ways, damn him. “Gods above and all the demons in the Underworld, he could block you? From me?” Boris stripped off his jacket and threw it against the wall, closely followed with a fist on said wall. Debby winced and opened the freezer for some ice. His knuckles would surely bruise after that. “Debby, look at me, dammit, when I’m talking to you. ” “I would if you were talking to me, but you’re not.” She wrapped some cubes in a
dish towel and placed it on the counter, then turned back to the contents of her fridge. “Put that on your hand.” “What am I doing if I’m not talking to you, little hell cat?” he growled. “Knitting?” “You’re yelling at me. I don’t listen to anyone yelling at me.” She turned and glared at him. “Got it?” The tension in the air between them built up like a teakettle approaching boil. The explosion came with a blinding flurry of movement from Boris. Before she could even squeak, he had her in his arms. Shoving her against the wall, he shoved his body against her back, his arm securely around her waist. Using his other hand, he ripped her shirt from her and sank his teeth into her shoulder, all the while growling in the back of his throat. “Bo?” Her voice was shaky and came out low. Maybe she had pushed him too far. “Shut up, bébé! I refuse to go through another hellacious half hour like I did tonight. We’re mating and that’s final. No witch nor man of any kind can interfere with the mind touch of a shifter and his consummated mate.” Pulling her into his body, he rubbed his all-too-ready cock against her butt. His hand slid hand down her naked abdomen and across the top of her regulation khakis to the juncture of her thighs. He rubbed the heel of his hand across the crease of her pants— hard. One-handed he pulled the zipper down and thrust his fingers closer to her heat. She was wet. Her earlier reluctance for intimacy now swept away with his blatant male aggression. She couldn’t contain her moans when he sank his teeth into her shoulder again, then scraped them along the sensitive tendons of her neck. Every sharp, moist nip and bite triggered answering contractions deep within her core. Her pussy wept for more. Her body readied itself for her mate’s ultimate possession. Boris licked and nuzzled her neck, now soothing rather than aggressively sexual. “I read your mind in the woods. You wanted to roll on the ground with me after I killed Ezra. You aren’t afraid of my animal tendencies at all, are you? ” Debby heard the underlying fear in his question, knew that he couldn’t believe that she accepted that side of him. “No, I’m not afraid of you. ” “Why not?” He used his free hand to shove her hair aside as he turned his oral attention to the sensitive area behind her ear. “Because,” she let out a long low moan as the combination of his lips and teeth on her neck and ear and his fingers on her clit sent her sensual tension to another level. “Because you’d never hurt me.” “And why is that, bébé?” “Because you love me.” She groaned through a petit orgasm. “Just as I love you. ” “Yes-s-s-s, exactly.” Boris let go of her waist and turned her within the circle of his arms. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her eyes, nose and then took her lips in a deep, tongue-thrusting kiss. His body crowded her back against the wall; his pelvis matched the rhythm of his tongue and thrust against her. Her arousal spiraled upward and just when she could see stars and feel herself about to fall over the edge into a whirlpool of sensation—he broke off. She moaned at the loss of his heat, his touch. “No, please … dammit Bo! Finish it!” ****
“I’m not stopping, little cat,” he assured her with a whisper- light kiss to her forehead. “I’m just moving this to a more comfortable and horizontal surface.” “No! Do me here! Now!” She curled her arms around his neck, then in an amazing feat of strength, leapt up and encircled his waist with her legs. Rubbing her breasts— covered only in a sheer and way-too-sexy bra—against his chest, she pleaded. “Take me on the ground—like in my thoughts. I want you on the ground, rolling around—and naked.” Her pleading to take her like an animal short-circuited any gentlemanly control he had left. Growling under his breath, he walked a few steps to the center of the kitchen floor. “Release your legs!” he ordered. She did as he asked, her arms still clinging to his shoulders. Removing her arms, he swept her into his arms then laid her on the floor. “Stay. ” As she watched him with glowing, hungry violet eyes, Boris stripped off his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder. As she licked her luscious rose lips, lips she would soon have on his body, his cock, he unzipped his pants, removing them after toeing off his shoes. Naked but for his socks, he eyed her half-clothed body. “Like what you see, my mate?” “Yes,” she said on a groan. “Don’t make me beg for it, Bo. Come and take me.” “Ah, ah, ah, little cat. I want you hot—and begging.” “Yes, yes, fine. I’m begging—now get your ass down here and make love to me before I expire on the spot.” Boris chuckled. His little hell cat was no true submissive, but she sure as hell was a hot little number—and a challenge. Well, they’d just see who was the boss in the bedroom. “Maybe I’m not ready to make love to you. ” He stooped to pick up his pants as if he was going to put them back on. Debby kicked them away from his hand. “That’s a bunch of bull crap, you lying shifter. I can feel your desire. It’s beating on every single inch of my skin. It’s in my head. I’m frigging burning up here.” She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at his cock. “And your big ole cock is seeking me like a magnet seeks north. So, don’t lie to me, Bo. Just bring it here and make love to me.” “Come here and show me just how much you want it, bébé.” His mate’s eyes lit up at the order. Getting up onto her knees, Debby reached for him. One small hand cupped his penis while the other held onto a butt cheek. She flicked her tongue lazily around the glans. He shivered at the hot moist touch, wanting more. But she didn’t make any move to apply more pressure or take him into her mouth. “Stop teasing, little cat.” He groaned. “Suck me. Hard.” “Make me?” she peered at him from between her thick black lashes. The question in her voice told him she wasn’t sure what kind of game he wanted to play. So he’d show her. The vibes he got from her all read feverish exc itement. He didn’t need any other indications of what she wanted from him. Her mind touching his said it all, asked for all he wanted to give her—and to take from her. And he was happy to oblige. Pleasuring her, loving her all night was something he could do—as long as she loved him in return. “Bo, please.” She stroked one hand down the outside of his thigh as her other hand
gently fondled his balls. “I love you. I want you. I need you.” Her words, uttered in a sexily imploring tone, added to his excitement and made it difficult to restrain his more animalistic urges to throw her on the floor and plunge into her velvety hot depths. Catching his thought, she smiled at him. “Yeah, Bo. Take me on the floor. Give me your big hard cock. But first let me suck you ‘til you come in my mouth. Then I want you to do all the things to me that you’ve been teasing me with in those nightly astral lovemaking sessions. Make me completely yours—only yours.” “Yes. Mine. Only mine.” He placed his hands on either side of her head. With a gentle grip he urged her forward. “Open your mouth, little one.” She licked her lips then complied, closing her eyes as she hungrily mouthed his throbbing dick. “Open those gorgeous violet eyes, bébé précieux. Watch me as I fuck your hot luscious mouth. ” He withdrew his cock, then slowly thrust it in, holding her head steady for the pace he wished to set. But his sexy little cat had other ideas. Her mouth closed to hold him inside. He tugged lightly on her head. “No. Let me set the pace, petit chat sexy. Just open and let me make love to your mouth. Grab my ass. I’ll tell you when you can take over pleasuring me.” She groaned at the back of her throat, her eyes glistening with excitement. Her thoughts telegraphed her lust and heightened his already ball-busting arousal. “This mouth is mine,” he growled. “It will kiss no other man’s lips. It will take no other man’s cock. I claim it.” As he thrust in and out of her with short, gentle movements, he caressed her face and hair. The smell of their joint arousal filled the air. Her small hands clenched and unclenched his ass, driving him ever higher, closer to his fulfillment. “Bo, darling. I need you. I need you in me. Please?” Her plea whispered in his mind as her mouth loved his cock. “Not yet, petit chat affamé. You aren’t ready yet.” “I am! I’m so hot, so wet, I could melt into a puddle on the floor. Touch me and find out.” “If I entered your sweet body now, I wouldn’t last.” “Then come for me, Bo. Fill my mouth with your hot, salty cum.” “Take it from me, petit chat d’enfer.” Boris released her head, giving her control. Debby cupped his balls with one hand. In syncopation with her fellation, she added a hand stroke along his turgid length. First, she took him slow and hard, and he sensed his release a mere second or two away. Then she stopped. Cooing under her breath, she placed tiny nipping butterfly kisses all over his cock head as she massaged his heavy balls. “Bébé, please—you’re killing me.” He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, refusing to take away her control of his pleasure. He wanted her to know that she could take control of their lovemaking whenever she pleased. Debby held her mouth an inch or so away his cock and whispered, her breathy words
tickling the sensitive head. “I’d never kill you, Bo darling, because I expect some hard lovin’ in return. ” Then she took him into her mouth and sucked him at an increased pace, bringing him so close to his release that he could feel the beginning shudders in his groin. Again, she stopped, leaning back on her heels. The look in her eyes challenged him to do something about her blatant tease act. The little minx dared him to take control. Licking her lips, Debby’s mouth twisted into a smile that was at once both shy and foxy. “Do it, Bo. Take your pleasure from me—I want you to.” The trust those words demonstrated excited him more than anything else she could have said or done. She truly loved him, enough to vocalize her need to submit to him in the sexual act. “Yes,” he growled. Taking her head between his hands, he thrust in and out in a strong fast rhythm that would take him to completion. Just as he was about to come, he attempted to pull out. But Debby surprised him by grabbing his ass and holding him in her mouth. This ultimate act of submission threw him over the edge and added to his intense satisfaction. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and roared his love for her to the heavens. Boris stroked Debby’s hair as she held him in her mouth until he was finished. “Oh baby, ” he groaned as his cock shuddered through the aftermath of his orgasm. “That was so good.” **** Debby released his spent cock. Holding his gaze with hers, she licked her lips, then proceeded to clean the cum off his glans. Bo’s lowly uttered, “Goddess, save me,” had her smiling. The super-heated look he sent her way made her wet and hornier than ever. His hands on her head, his strong fingers kneading her scalp and massaging her ears sent fiery chills down her spine to settle into her aching core. By all the gods and the earth mother, she needed him to fill her with his seed. If anyone had ever told her that she was the type who needed to submit in the bedroom she would have called that person a bald- faced liar. But with Bo, she wanted him to be in charge. To make the decisions. She made enough decisions each day—which was probably why she never had a relationship that had lasted more than a month or two. The men she usually chose were too easily led. Somehow, some way, all her life she had been heading to this point in time. Toward this man. Her mother would laugh, but Fate did win this round. She was thoroughly hooked into this man. Her mate. Her alpha- lover. “Yes, your lover—and only yours. We Petrov men mate for life.” Boris stroked her cheek with a gentle finger. “Your trust in me humbles me, mon petit chat sexy. I’ll never push your boundaries, Debby, but I will take you to the limit for both of our pleasure.” “Yes, please, Bo. Show me how much you love me. I need to take you in my body, feel you become one with me.” “With pleasure, bébé.” The look he sent her was filled with sexual hunger. The images he fed her mind made her blush. “Ah, ah, ah, nothing we do in the privacy of our home should ever embarrass you. But if you become uncomfortable, I’ll know, because once we become one, I will live in
your mind always.” “In my mind?” Debby wasn’t sure she wanted Bo knowing her every thought. “You’ll also be in mine,” he whispered as he bent to gather her into his arms. “But we can post ‘no trespassing’ signs that the other can respect. Now, let’s take our next level of lovemaking to the comfort of your sexy bedroom. I can feel the pain in your knees. And since I am going to make love to you for the rest of the night, we may as well be comfortable.” “No rolling around on the ground?” she asked. “We’ll do that another time—outside—in the woods, just like in your fantasy. I’ll be the pioneer and you my innocent Indian captive.” Debbie shuddered at the images Boris sent her way. Rope. Sunshine filtering through the pines. The forest floor cushioned with fallen pine needles. Her naked, half-bound body tethered to a tree as he took her from behind. Nervous excitement caused her to chatter as Boris laid her on the bed and began to remove the rest of her clothes. “So just how do we post these no-trespassing signs? Are they like mental shields? I’m getting better at those. I had you blocked most of the time, didn’t…” “Shhh, little one. Don’t be nervous. It will be fine. We’ll have a learning curve on the telepathy just as we’ll have one on our sexual limits in the bedroom, but we’ll be fine.” Boris stroked and kissed each inch of skin as he uncovered it. “What a beautiful body you have, mate. I may have you go full days without clothes.” She shivered and moaned. “You like that idea, don’t you?” “Yes,” she said on a sigh. “Don’t tease me, Bo. Let me get you ready so you can take me. I need you to take me—hard and fast and…” “Often, ” Boris added. “But not yet. We have to get you ready for me.” “I am ready. You shared your orgasm with me. I felt it and thought I would go into nuclear meltdown. I need you—now!” She reached for him, aiming to pull him more fully over her body, but Boris had other plans. Before she knew what was happening , her wrists were held over her head in one of his large hands as he fumbled around behind him on the bed. The jangle of metal told her all she needed to know. “Bo, those are county property—not sex toys. That’s converting public property for a private use and is a misdemeanor in this state.” Her warning lost some of its clout when she moaned as he cuffed her wrists to the ornamental headboard of her bed. “I’ll risk it, little one,” he whispered as he placed nibbling kisses on her swollen lips. “Now, let’s see about making you scream for me. I like a lot of screaming and moaning and groaning. And if I don’t get it…” “And if you don’t get it, what?” she asked, her words coming out in breathy gasps as he cupped her breasts and rubbed her distended nipples with his thumbs. “Well, I’ll just keep making love to you until you vocalize to my satisfaction. ” “Bo,” she sucked in a deep breath as he licked then bit one nipple. “What if I’m not a moaner or a screamer?” “Then, bébé, you’ll have to learn, ” he said against her lips as one finger, then two,
found her clit. “And I’m just the man—the only man—to teach you. We alpha- males like to hear appreciation for our love-making from our mates. We demand it.” “Bo?” “Yes, little one?” “Stop teasing me and fill me with your cum. ” “Eventually, but first the screaming and moaning and groaning lessons will commence. Since you’re new, I’ll cut you some slack.” He replaced his fingers at her clit with his mouth. Breathing hot air onto the sensitive bud, he added, “Why don’t we start Lesson Number One with the eating of the pussy? That is always a good way to get a little cat to moan and groan. ” “Bo, I ache. Make it stop. Please?” Debby strained against the restraints on her wrists. If she could just grab his head and thrust it against her pussy, she would be in control again like when she’d sucked his cock. But she didn’t want to control Boris. Really. She wanted to let go. Let him take her on this plane to all the places he’d shown her in their astral love-making. He knew her better than she knew herself. His astral love- making had tracked her erotic fantasies, games of submission where Boris led and she followed—and they both won. She loved him. Trusted him. But it was hard to go against years of repressing those fantasies, of overcoming the inhibitions that good girls don’t scream and moan and groan and ask to be taken again and again. As his lips and mouth delicately tasted her labia and aching clit, Debby threw her head from side to side, her eyes tightly shut against the sight of his golden head buried between her thighs. Her teeth clenched against the sounds buried deep within. “No need for that kind of self-discipline in the bedroom, little one. I’ll make you come. Again—and again—and again. You’ll come when I say—and you’ll be screaming before the night is over. And I will still love you and respect you—and no one outside of these four walls will know. This is our private time. The outside world does not intrude here. Loss of control in the bedroom is all a part of loving and trusting me.” “Talk is cheap, Bo. Prove it.” She knew she was tweaking the wild dog living inside of the cultivated man, but Boris was moving way too slow. Just a bit more pressure on her clit and she would climax. Boris raised his head and smiled at her. “Ah, a challenge. But we still will go at my pace—and you will thank me for it later, bébé.” She gritted her teeth against the needy noises building at the back of her throat and attempted to squeeze him closer and into her pussy by tightening her legs around his waist. “Strong legs, little hell cat. But you relinquished control to me. We play this my way.” Boris got up off the bed and looked around. Shrugging, he mumbled to himself and left the room. “Bo, get your ass back in here and make love to me!” she yelled, kicking her legs with frustration. “Patience, little cat.” Sounds of drawers being opened and closed came from the kitchen. “This should work,” he said as he walked back into the room with some clothesline.
“Bo, what are you going to do?” Eyeing the rope he held, her womb contracted and her clit throbbed. “I’m tying you to the bed.” He grinned as he anchored her right ankle to the right bed post. “Just imagine trees, sunshine and you as that Indian princess captive and me the randy pioneer. Think of it as practice for later.” Now her left leg was tied down as well. She tested them. Very little give in either one. The feeling of being stretched and open to his sexual assault had her flooding the bed sheets with sexual fluids. Her heart beat faster. Her breath came more rapidly. He really was going to act on her fantasy about being restrained and forced to come again and again. She might just expire on the spot from over-excitement. “Slow down on the breathing, baby. I don’t want you hyperventilating on me.” Boris stroked the hair out of her eyes and kissed her gently, almost reverently on the lips. “Thank you for trusting me. If you want me to stop, just say so.” “No, just love me, Bo. Make me yours again and again,” she whispered against his lips, nipping his lower lip with her teeth. “But I don’t think I can scream like you want. I don’t have it in me.” Licking her lips, he whispered against them, “I think you have a lot more screams of sexual fulfillment in you than you think. After all, you’ve never had me make love to you before.” Then he plunged his tongue into her mouth as he slipped two fingers into her hot and needy opening. The first time he took her up and over fast. With the combination of his fingers fucking her pussy and his tongue taking her mouth, Debby soared to the heights and exploded like a supernova. As she came, he released her lips, claimed a nipple and added pressure to her clit with his thumb. Her moans of completion echoed around the room. “See, bébé, you can moan. ” He suckled her breast, eliciting gasps and even more moans from her until she saw stars. “Breathe, darling. Come on, breathe for me.” Boris had climbed more fully onto the bed. Sitting against the head of the bed, he stroked her body gently, massaging the arms tethered over her head, then kneading her neck and shoulders. He allowed her to calm down, then he knelt by her head, his cock at full mast once more. “See how hard your coming made me?” Boris said in a low sexy tone. “I’m aching for you. ” “Put him in then. I moaned for you. ” She licked her suddenly dry lips. She still had the taste of his sweet, salty cum in her mouth. She wanted him again—filling her mouth. Gods, when did she get this oral fixation all of a sudden? She never liked sucking cock before. “Ah, well, little one. You never had a mate before.” He thrust the head of his cock against her lips. “Kiss the pre-cum off.” She moaned, then flicked her tongue, gently capturing the evidence of his renewed desire. She strained to take him in, but he kept the head just far enough away so that she couldn’t get her lips around him. “Bastard. I want him.” “Later. Right now, I need to get you ready for me.”
“God, I am so ready. I couldn’t be more ready, ” she pleaded. “No, you haven’t groaned or screamed yet,” he said in a mock-stern tone of voice. “Besides there is something about my particular species you need to know. ” “What?” “Our cocks grow even larger once they are inside our mates,” he said casually as he kissed and nibbled the sensitive underarm nearest him. “Theory is that it’s so the woman can’t throw off her mate before he puts enough of his seed into her to make her pregnant.” “Just like an animal,” she breathed. Her womb clenched at the thought of his seed conquering her depths and nurturing his children within. “I’m an animal, Debby, ” he said, his tone completely serio us as his burning golden gaze captured hers. “Never forget that. While I am educated and think like a human most of the time, when I am making love to you—and at certain other times—I’ll act on pure instinct. This is why it pleases me that your fantasies match my nature. I will dominate you in the bedroom, but I will never harm you. It would go against everything I am.” Debby wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. His mind was a blank wall. They hadn’t consummated the relationship yet, so the living in each other’s mind hadn’t materialized. So, she responded the only way she could—from her heart. “Make me yours in all ways. Animal and human. I trust you. ” Boris closed his eyes and muttered something she couldn’t quite catch, although it sounded like a prayer. Opening his eyes, he smiled at her. “I love you, Debby Sue Teague.” “That’s a lot of talk, Bo. What about the groaning and screaming lessons you promised? The all- night- long orgasms? I’m waiting. ” She sent him an image of her nude and tapping her foot. Boris let out a joyous shout of laughter. “Lesson Number Two, groaning, coming right up.” Climbing between her legs, he took a breast into his mouth and suckled it as if he were a baby. With the heel of one hand he applied pressure to her hyper-sensitive groin. With the other hand, he used a finger and swept some of the leaking moisture from her pussy and used it to lubricate her anus. “Ah, Bo?” Debby gasped as the pressure he applied to her clit caused a mini-quake in her whole body. “I’ve never…” “Shh, little one. Just a finger this time. Trust me, I want you to learn to groan, remember?” She sighed and nodded her head. Biting her lip, she experienced a full body shudder as he began to give her other breast the same attention he’d given its twin. “Stop holding back on me, baby, ” he ordered. He thrust three fingers into her vaginal opening and began to stroke a highly sensitive area inside. His thumb put pressure on her clit. Closing her eyes, she saw stars shooting across her mind’s eye, closely followed by images of Boris taking her from behind, thrusting into her like a dog, hands fondling her swaying breasts, his mouth kissing and teething her shoulder. The images were too much and she shot over the edge of the precipice and began to fall. Moaning through the beginnings of what portended to be the best orgasm she’d ever had in her twenty-nine years, a new sensation entered the mix. In the erotic images in her mind, Boris pulled his
cock from her pussy and entered her ass. In the real world, as Boris worked her over and added to her orgasm with his muttered words of praise and love, he thrust a long finger into her ass. Her groans seemed to come from a deep place within, but once they were loose they took flight, followed closely by screams, when Bo thrust his cock into her spasming body. Lesson Number Three wouldn’t be needed after all. “Ohgodogodohgod, that’s soooo good. Bo! Love you, Bo. Ohgodohgodohgod. I love you. God, it’s sooo good. So fucking good.” Just as her orgasm threatened to subside. Just as she thought she might be able to catch her breath, Boris grunted and then shouted as he began to thrust fast and hard into her body. “Hold on, baby. I’m coming.” Inside her core, a strong pulsing began as Boris’s cock grew larger and hotter than before. Her body answered the call to mate with a throbbing of its own as her vaginal muscles clenched to hold Boris’s expanding sex within. “Look at me,” he ordered through gritted teeth. “Look at me as I make you mine forever.” She turned her gaze from their joined bodies to his incandescent regard. All his love was there. She smiled and whispered, “I love you. ” Shouting, Boris plunged more deeply into her than before and held her hips to him with fingers of steel. Debby felt the buildup around her. It was like a bomb waiting to go off. The tension pouring off Boris was palpable. It pulsed against and in her body. In her mind. She held her breath and looked into his eyes once more. They were so dark they looked a golden chocolate brown instead of their usual golden amber. “Debby, with my seed planted deeply within you, you will become my mate. Will you also become my wife in the ways of mankind?” His voice was strained as he held on, waiting for, needing her words to make it all right. “Yes,” she whispered, tears streaking down her face. “Yes. Bo, I will be your wife and your mate.” Taking her lips in a deep kiss, he released his seed deeply into her womb. A strong orgasm swept through them both. She wasn’t sure whether it was his or hers, but all she knew was she flew to the heavens and back many many times. His mouth swallowed her moans, groans and screams until all faded to black as she drifted off on a cloud securely sheltered within the arms of her man.
Chapter Six The next morning “Just because I became your mate and submitted to your dominance in the bedroom does not mean I’ll be the servile little woman outside it, Bo!” Debby slammed a cast iron skillet on the stove, turned on the gas to heat it, then stomped to the refrigerator to get some eggs. “Now, bébé, all I asked was that you keep someone with you at all times until we root out and destroy the dark witches.” Boris sat at the kitchen counter with what looked to be a permanent smirk of sexual satisfaction on his handsome face. He’d worn it ever since he’d taken her fully for the first time. Damn the man! How many times had he made love to her last night? Four? Five? How many ways? An uncontrollable flush of embarrassment swept over her body. No, not embarrassment. Sexual excitement. She was hot, wet and ready to do it all again. She growled under her breath. Goddess, he’d turned her into a raging nymphomaniac! She had a mountainside full of drug-dealing, murderous dark witches, and all she wanted was to strip off her clothes and let Boris do her on the kitchen floor. And on the counter. And the table. Her hand hovered over the egg carton as she attempted to control her rapid breathing. She’d never been like that with any of her previous lovers and was amazed that she had it in her to be so … so … sexually subservient. “But only with me, mon petit chaton de sexe.” Boris wrapped an arm around her waist, then pulled the carton out of the refrigerator, set it in the counter, and shut the fridge door. Nuzzling her neck, he whispered, “Why don’t you go and sit at the counter and allow me to make the omelets? You seem distracted this morning.” Growling, she elbowed him in the ribs, forcing him to release her. Turning to face him, she scowled. “Distracted? Distracted! You’ve turned me into a flaming imbecile! And stay out of my mind!” Chuckling, Boris kissed her nose. “I can’t stay out of your mind, bébé. Last night took care of that. And I am trying very hard to respect your private thoughts, but you are blasting them at me. And if you wanted, you could see everything I am thinking, feel everything I’m feeling.” “Yeah, like I needed that extra little psychic perk in my life.” She slumped against the counter and watched as Boris expertly cracked eggs into a bowl, then proceeded to chop the veggies she’d cleaned earlier for the filling of the omelets. “What are we gonna do about Darius?” “We, meaning myself, Gor and the other Coven security personnel, will be scenting out and following Ezra’s trail back to their lair.” Boris cast a stern glance her way. “You will be doing your normal job as Sheriff and running interference for us with the State Police.” Throwing her hands into the air, she yelled, “So, while you all are out there risking your hides, I’m supposed to give out traffic tickets to tourists and play politics, is that it? Let’s keep the little woman safely out of it?”
Eyebrow raised, Boris looked at her and bluntly said, “Yes.” “Aargh! ” She pulled at her hair. “Now that you’ve had me, you want to die, is that it? Last night must have been really, really memorable if you just want to go out there and commit suicide by confronting dark chaos magick all on your own. ” Boris was in front of her, hands on her arms in an almost cruel grip, before she could even blink. “You…” he rasped, shaking her like a rag doll. “…know that is not so. Read me, Debby. Look deeply into my mind.” She could only shake her head, her voice lost in the presence of the strongest emotions she’d ever felt from him. “Don’t shake your head,” he snarled, giving her another shake. “Do it! See what I feel. I love you more than anything. I want to see my seed grow in you. I want to grow gray with you. Understand?” He shook her once more, then growled a few swear words under his breath and pulled her to his chest. He nuzzled and kissed her hair, muttering words of undying love. His heart pounded frantically against her ear. His big strong body, the one that had made the most fabulously confident love to her all night, shook against her. “Do you understand?” he whispered in an almost pleading tone. “Yes,” she said, stroking his chest and shoulders in an attempt to calm him. Her big strong alpha-male was scared to death of losing her. “I understand you want—no that’s too tame—you need to protect me. It’s instinctive with you. ” “I told you that last night, Debby, ” he said. “Remember, just before I made you completely mine. I warned you about my animal nature. Well, this is part of it.” He tilted her chin up and captured her gaze with his. “I have to protect you. Dark chaos magick be damned.” “Just as I feel the need to protect you, darling. You’re not the only one who has instincts, you know. ” Boris tilted his head, a quizzical expression in his eyes. A seeking gentle warmth filled her mind as he delicately but thoroughly probed. “You also? Hmmm, I never anticipated that.” Borrowing the words he’d said to her the night before, she smiled at him. “Maybe because you’ve never had a mate before, eh? ” “Touché, my mate.” He returned her smile as he tapped the tip of her nose with his finger, then stroked her cheek. “I feel your need to protect just as you feel mine. So, what are we going to do about this?” “Call it stalemate and play it by ear?” she suggested. Stroking his face, she whispered against his lips, “Now, are you gonna cook, or am I? For some reason I am ravenous this morning. ” Boris threw back his head and laughed. His laughter filled her with warmth, making her want him all the more. It was nice to know that she could make him happy—and the gods knew he’d already made her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life. If only… Suddenly serious, Boris lifted her lips to his. “We’ll get rid of the scourge from your town, Debby. I feel it. Fate couldn’t have brought us to this point without providing us a way to make it through. ” Something intriguing flitted across his mind. Something to do with her mother and a prediction, but then Boris took her lips in a groin-dampening kiss and caused her to lose track of anything but him and how he made her feel. When he released her lips, she held on for a few seconds until the wo rld stopped
whirling. When things finally settled and she could stand without falling, she shoved him away with a pat to his so- fine tight butt. “Go start the eggs. I’ll do the toast. We need to eat.” “What are you going to do today, mon petit chat?” Licking her lips at the movement of his hips, his body, she shook off the urge to have her wicked way with him before breakfast. “Ah, I’m going to ticket the shit out of the tourists on their way to Dollywood,” she said on a sigh. There was always tonight. She hadn’t been on top yet. Maybe if she asked nicely. She added, “And make nice with Stevens and his lot at the State Patrol.” “Thank you, mon amour.” There was no gloating satisfaction in his tone or his mind. And for some reason, that made her happy. He did n’t feel she was inferior to him; his deep-seated need was only to protect her. She’d let him—until he needed her to protect him back. **** As they finished breakfast and were cleaning up, a knock sounded on the front door. “I’ll get it.” Boris threw the dish towel on the counter. “It’s my brother, along with Ric and Brock.” “Fine. I’ll just go finished getting dressed,” Debby said. “I can’t go into work in my sweats.” Boris eyed her holey, sagging grey sweat suit from her alma mater, Harvard Law. The top was half off her shoulder. “Remind me tonight to have you wear that to bed.” His eyes burned their way up and down her body. “I want to tear it off you—right before I ravage you. ” “Well, uh,…” Debby turned red, the thoughts in her mind ran apace with his, and even had a few interesting twists he hadn’t thought of. “Yeah, all that. Whatever you want to do,” he growled, his loins threatening to spew in his pants. “Never be shy about asking for what you need in my arms.” She nodded and fled. Not because she was afraid of the strength of his desire for her, nor was she afraid of submitting. She fled because she wanted to jump his bones now. He smiled. Yes, waiting for over two months for Debby to succumb to his courting had been time well- spent. She was his forever—and he was a very happy man. “Boris! Debby! ” Gor shouted through the door, pounding even harder. “Are you okay?” “I’m coming, Gor. Hold your horses.” Boris pulled open the door and waved the three men inside. “We just finished breakfast, and Debby wasn’t decent for company. ” “I heard that, Bo!” Debby shouted from the bedroom. Gor eyed him, a question in his eye. Boris nodded, and couldn’t help the smirk of satisfaction that he knew was on his face. “Just give them all the details, Bo. I’ll never be able to face your brother, Ric, and Brock again.” “I’ve blocked all that from Gor, and am protecting your thoughts about our night together from him also. And witches as a whole do not understand about shifter mating, so while the others may suspect. They know nothing. So do not be embarrassed, little one.” “I should have known you had it covered, Bo. I see in your mind that you keep
private stuff private.” “Always I will protect you. Even from yourself.” “And I, you.” He smiled. She always had to have the last word. “So, it is done, brother?” Gor asked in a low tone, away from the other two men. “Yes—we are one.” “How are you going to handle Debby’s part in destroying the dark ones?” “For now, we’ll play it by ear,” Boris replied, quoting his mate’s earlier words. “For today, while we hunt, Debby will stay in town and do her job. When we find them, we’ll have to talk. At that point I will bring Drake and Rhea into the meeting to add their thoughts.” He grabbed his brother’s arm. “I will protect my mate—at all costs.” “I know. ” Gor returned the grip. “As I would protect Selena. It is our nature. Is Debby good with that?” Boris let out a short harsh laugh. “She knows—but she vows to protect me, also.” Gor laughed. “Somehow I knew that would be her answer. Unlike my little healer, your mate has the soul of a warrior. Unusual for one of her sign. ” “Well, she has told me that she is a stubborn bull in her rising sign. ” “Ah, then that makes all the difference. An unusual combination of traits you’ve got there in a mate, twin. ” “And I adore every single one of them.” “As it should be,” Gor solemnly intoned. **** Around noon, Debby drove to the Bear Hollow Tea Room for lunch with her mother and Selena. She didn’t eat at the touristy restaurant very often, but they’d invited her to lunch and she needed the distraction of their company. She’d been as nervous as a cat in water ever since Boris had kissed her good-bye this morning and had gone with Gor and the others. She wanted her mother to reassure her that things would all be well. As she had done frequently since this morning, she felt for Boris in her mind. Warmth and reassurance flowed through her at finding him well—and still safe. The men hadn’t found the dark witches’ lair yet. Yes, Boris seemed frustrated at their lack of success, but he was whole and healthy and that was all Debby seemed to need to allay her fears—until the next time they built up and she checked again. So far, that had been running about every half hour on the dot. Parking her car in the back alley behind the restaurant, she entered through the employees' door. She waved to Bess Smith, the owner. “Hey, Bess. Just meeting my mom and Selena. Didn’t want to chase the tourists away by parking my car in front.” “Thanks, Debby. Appreciate that.” Bess wiped her hands on her apron and hurried toward her. “June and Selena are in the front window. ” The owner gave her a handprinted menu with the day’s specials. “What’re you drinking? ” “Pepsi with a lime, if you have it.” Bess grinned. “Sure do. That’s the way I drink it myself. You go and sit yourself down and I’ll bring it right out.” “Thanks, Bess.” Debby walked toward what in a Los Angeles restaurant would call a power table.
Selena smiled as she approached. The healer was glowing in her pregnancy, although Debby, now more acutely sensitive to other people’s vibes than ever, read a lingering nausea from a bout of morning sickness. “Hey there, Selena. Do you want me to get Bess to bring out some Saltines?” Debby asked before she could stop herself. The other woman’s nausea had started to affect her. “Good gods, do I look that bad?” Selena laughed. “That’s nice of you, but Bess is heading this way, so I’ll ask her when she takes the order.” Debby nodded, then sat. “Hey, Momma.” She searched her mother’s face for signs of illness or pain and found her eyes as clear and blue as a summer sky. Debby let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her mother was finally in total remission. The weekly soul retrievals Selena had instigated, along with a combination of herbs and healthy eating that both women had instituted to supplement the more traditional medical treatments seemed to be working. “I’m fine, pumpkin. ” Her mother smiled warmly. “So, he finally claimed you. I’m so happy. ” Her mother reached over and stroked her arm. “Things are on the path once more.” “Yes, the path. That’s the only reason I agreed to have lunch, ” Debby said, then realized how that sounded. “Not that I didn’t want to have lunch with you, it’s just…” “It’s just that you are worried about the men and want to know if I’ve had any more visions?” her mother finished. “No more visions. But that doesn’t mean I won’t, just that the time isn’t right yet. How about you? Any unusual feelings?” “I can’t see my future, Momma. You know that.” “No, I don’t know, Debby Sue,” June admonished. “You’ve never really shared what you could or could not see until last month in Illinois.” “Well, I seem to feel a lot more now than I did yesterday, ” Debbie admitted, shyly. Her face had to be flaming red. “I’ve been itchy all day, ever since the men left. But I can’t place my finger on anything in particular. So when you called to have lunch…” Selena touched her arm, drawing her attention away from her mother. “No need to explain, Debby. I’ve felt the same way—all fidgety and upset—ever since Gor left. But I’m sure June would tell us if she’d had any bad visions.” Selena turned an almost stern glance at Debby’s mother. “Wouldn’t you? ” “Yes, girls. I would tell you if I saw any danger to your men. But I haven’t seen anything more than I’ve seen in the past.” “And what exactly was that, Momma?” Debbie sipped some of her Pepsi and felt the edginess dissipate somewhat with the intake of caffeine and sugar. “I’ve never really known just what it was you’d seen before.” “I foresaw Boris coming to Bear Hollow to confront Darius. The visions intimated that you both would come together, and that your union was necessary to defeat the dark ones.” Sipping her tea, June shrugged, “But other than that plus you and Boris having twin boys, I’ve seen nothing else. There is a cloud over the rest.” “Twins?” Debby gulped, a hand going to her stomach. “Boys? Two of them? ” “Aww, shit. That boy didn’t tell you, did he?” A frown settled on her mother’s face. “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I figured Boris had told you. ” “He knew?” Her words came out high and squeaky. She couldn’t catch her breath. “Oh Blessed Goddess, I’m going to be a mother?” Laughing, Selena leaned over and stroked Debby’s upper back. “You’ll be a great
mother.” The healer glanced at June. “She’s already pregnant. I can feel it.” “I am?” “She is?” June touched her other arm. Then nodded, a happy, satisfied smile on her face. “She is. Twins. Boys. Fully implanted and strong. Fully witch with shifter traits.” “Well, hell!” Debby slumped into her chair and sought Boris with her mind. Had he known she would get pregnant right away? He wasn’t there! She sat up, stiff with fright. She tried again. There was a blank wall. But why? He said he would always be in her mind. Always reachable. That no man or witch could stop them from touching one another’s thoughts. No other—but he could. He could build walls if he thought he needed to protect her. “Damn him!” She shoved out of her chair. “Damn him to the Underworld and back. The son-of-a-bitch blocked me.” “Debby Sue, sit down.” Her mother pulled at her arm. “You’re scaring people. Goddess, you’re scaring me.” Debby sat. “What’s going on? ” Selena asked. “I can’t reach Gor either.” “They went after the dark ones. They must have found them. ” Debby pleated, then shredded a paper napkin. “How can he access my magick and use it if he blocks me! Damn stubborn shifter.” “Maybe the boys just didn’t want you girls to see what they had to do to rid us of the witches?” June suggested. “Or maybe they are in mortal danger and they don’t want me to find them and try to help?” Debbie suggested what both she and Selena felt. “Those stupid shifters are trying to protect Selena and me from pain or something. Am I right, Selena?” “I think that might be it.” Sele na nodded, her glow gone and a worried, sick look on her face. “So, how are we going to find out?” Debbie asked. “Astral projection, ” her mother suggested. “Boris and Gor are blocking your telepathy, but you could possibly find Ric and Brock or some of the other witches on the astral plane. Where the Coven witches are, Boris and Gor should be.” “Thanks, Momma. I scared myself into blithering stupidity for a second.” Debby leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “Cover my ass here, while I go take a look.” Sending her astral self on to the middle range of the astral plane, she found herself in what she would always think of as Selena’s garden. This was where she’d helped the shaman undo the dark chaos web of death from Boris’s body. Looking around, she spotted a familiar face. “Ric!” she called out. The witch turned and saw her. A look of relief swept briefly over his face as he hurried toward her. “Brock and I knew you’d figure it out. Gor had explicit instructions not to call to you on the telepathic path you share with his brother. Boris will still probably kill us when he finds out that I came here to meet you. ” “What’s going on? ” Debby grasped Ric’s arms and shook him. “Selena is blocked. I’m blocked. My mother sees only a cloud on our future. What the fuck is going on? ” “Nothing—yet.” His voice held unease and something else—fear.
“Explain to me what ‘yet’ means?” Debbie was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like what Ric had to share. “We found a series of caves that are not on the maps provided by the U.S. Geological Survey of these mountains. They seem to be man- made, or in this case, witchmade.” “So?” “Boris went in to investigate.” “Alone?” Ric nodded unhappily. “And he hasn’t come back out.” “I just touched his mind less than thirty minutes ago.” “That’s when he went in. ” Ric shook his head. “Gor lost contact with him after five minutes and can’t reach him. So he went in after his brother.” “No!” Selena’s anguished cry came from behind. Debby turned to see that Selena had joined them. She reached out a hand which Selena grasped; together they shared their strength. The paralytic fear that threatened to overtake her faded with Selena’s empathic clasp. “Where are these caves, Ric? Describe the area. I’ll meet you there.” “We’ll meet you there,” Selena corrected. “You might need a healer, especially if they use that web of death again. ” Debby nodded. She wasn’t going to deny the woman the right to help. Ric gave them instructions, then his astral self flickered out like a snuffed candle as he rejoined his physical body. Debby shook off the disorientation that came with rejoining her earth-bound body. “Momma, Selena and I have to go find our men. ” Debbie rose and helped a very pale Selena to stand. “Call Rhea Morgan in Chicago. I’m betting Drake has kept her out of the loop also. Tell her we might need her on the astral plane later.” “Won’t Drake be upset that you involved his wife?” June asked. “She is almost due to deliver.” “I don’t care. I expect Drake is either down here or on his way, but it’s their power together that seemed to work in the battle they fought.” Debby reached over and grabbed some crackers off an unoccupied table and shoved them into Selena’s hands. “Here. Eat these. You look like you’re gonna throw up.” “Thanks. I’ll be fine. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this—and it’s not morning sickness.”
Chapter Seven Outside caves in the Smoky Mountains Gor paced back and forth in front of the cave that he had just exited. “How could you involve Debby and Selena, when both Boris and I gave you explicit instructions not to?” Ric and Brock merely shrugged and looked past him. “I told them to do so.” Drake Morgan, followed by several Elders, entered the clearing. “All the seers have agreed. Debby is the key. Her power must be used to destroy the roots of dark chaos magick planted in this community.” “Boris has blocked her.” Gor shook his head. “He’s blocking me. I couldn’t find his scent in the cave nor his mental path. It’s like he doesn’t exist.” He closed his eyes, swearing under his breath. “He’s never done this before, and I’m not quite sure how he did it now. Something is terribly wrong. ” “Is he dead?” Gor opened his eyes to see Debby enter the clearing. “Is he dead?” she screamed. “I don’t know. ” He winced at the pain coming off of her in heavy waves. “I just don’t know. ” * “He’s not dead,” one of the Elders said. “Not yet. There is a fork in the path. The time is near when a choice must be made.” “Or maybe the choice has already been made,” Drake said. “Debby is here. She has made her choice, including involving my wife.” Debby noted that Drake didn’t seem overly upset that Rhea was on call back in Chicago. “I didn’t think her mental support or her etheric presence would endanger the baby, am I right?” Debby asked. Drake smiled, a mere twist of his lips. “I think you might be. What do you need from us?” “Maybe a diversion—or just telepathic backup. I don’t know yet.” Debby looked toward the opening of the cave. “I’m going in. So pray to all your gods and the Goddess that I know what to do when I need to do it. I’m going in on blind faith here.” “So mote it be,” intoned the gathering of witches. Gor moved to her side. “I’ll go with you. After all, he’s my twin.” “You stay here and protect Selena. Bo and I might need her healing abilities later.” She paused. “Besides, he may be your brother, but he’s my mate—and the father of our unborn twin sons.” Gor gasped, then nodded. “It is your right. I told him you wouldn’t buy the line that the male always protected the female.” “Damn straight, I don’t.” As Debby turned, she heard the mutters of those she left behind. “The power of three once again. ”
“Just like the Battle of Lincoln Park.” “Are the unborn fully witch? ” “They are,” Selena confirmed. A chorus of sighs whispered on the wind. “Praise the gods and the blessed Goddess. She might have a chance,” Drake said. Debby entered the stygian darkness of the cave. No light crept past the opening. It was as if something blocked it, an unseen wall through which no photon of light could pass. She called upon the fire elementals to light her way, and immediately a thousand sparking lights like flickering candles appeared in the darkness. Now able to see, she began to follow the tunnel forward and down into the mountain. Opening her third eye, she noted the uniformity of the tunnel walls. Smooth as glass. No manmade machine could have done that, but magick could. And just as magick had created the caves, so could it be used to set traps along the way. Behind her the darkness closed in when the elemental flames died as she passed. After she had walked about two hundred feet, she came to a fork in the tunnel. Feeling into each passageway with all her senses, she found a life pattern, but couldn’t tell if it were Boris’s or not. Seeking further, she pushed her thoughts up against it and found it to be a very scared human. Not a shifter. Not Boris. With her heightened powers of telepathy, she delicately probed the man’s superficial thoughts. He’d seen Boris. Boris had tried to shift to fight a witch who guarded the man. But had failed and was captured, then carried off. Debby furiously blinked away the moisture in her eyes. There was no time for crying. Her mate was in danger—just ahead. And to get to him, she had to pass by the human-baited trap Darius had left for her. That it was a trap, she had no doubt. That it was meant to capture her and not kill, she was just as sure of. Darius wanted to meet her, wanted her power for himself. He didn’t want her dead—yet. If she could, she would use his own trap against him. She had a mind to show the dark one just what she could do when pissed. And she was thoroughly pissed. Sending her findings, thoughts and conclusions back along Boris and Gor’s shared mind path, she forged ahead. “Be careful, sister. Do not underestimate Darius’s traps. And do not overestimate your ability to escape them. Let us know when and how we can help,” “Don’t worry. I’ll let you know what I need when I need it.” “We’ll be ready.” Leaving her third eye wide open, she sought out other traps. She wasn’t naive enough to assume that Darius had only left one for her. So far there’d been none of the tell-tale thickness she had encountered with other dark chaos magick traps. Yet she smelled something ancient and dead just ahead. Could it be her old nemesis Cocidius again? Or had Darius called up some other ancient Celtic god to battle her? **** Boris struggled against the bindings that tethered him to a stone slab in the center of the main room of Darius’s headquarters. He’d barely shifted back to his human form when he’d been paralyzed by some spell. So, instead of being half- man, half wolfhound, he was all naked male. Whatever they had used on him, it allowed him to breathe and
struggle, but prevented him from shifting. If he could only shift, his supernatural strength would increase tenfold and he could break away. “Call her to you, Petrov, ” sneered Darius. “Her arrival is inevitable, but the sooner she arrives, the less pain you will endure.” “Screw you, you traitorous bastard.” The smile that crossed Darius’s face sent icy chills down Boris’s spine. At the flick of a wrist, a multi-strand flogger with metal tips appeared in his tormentor’s hand. Boris was glad he’d blocked Debby and his brother from his mind. He wanted neither of them to come to his aid in haste. And come to his aid, they would, he never doubted that truth. But he’d much rather they came on their own terms with a plan that had a chance of working, not one created only to stop his pain. Pain was temporary and would be gone once he could shift. When that time came, Darius would be minus one throat. He could almost taste the dark witch’s blood now. He closed his eyes as the whip strafed his chest, then his torso, then his legs, leaving his genitals for last. After the first four or five times, Boris escaped his body and ascended to the astral plane. **** The smell of age-old rot increased as Debby came closer and closer to the human bait. Her third eye open to its widest, she sensed more than one ancient lying in wait for her just around the bend. Darius had pulled back, obviously after capturing Boris, and left the old ones to trap her. Had he forgotten how easily she’d handled Cocidius The Red just a few months ago? Turning the corner, she found the old war god, his red hair and beard flaming in the flickering lights of her elementals. On his shoulder was his animal spirit, a large golden hawk. Surrounding him were five large men, dressed in the garb of Tuatha De Danann warriors, the ones who’d fought fiercely to hold power in Ireland against the Milesian invasion. “Brought some help this time, Cocidius?” Debby sneered. “Must have been very embarrassing to go back to the Underworld and let everyone know the great War God had been bested by a mere female witch. ” “Silence, woman!” thundered the old god. “The dark one that called upon me has bade me to offer you a flag of truce if you will come with us willingly.” Debby paused a second, tapping her foot, as if considering the offer. “No, un unh. I don’t think so.” She smiled at him apologetically. “I have nothing against you or these other fine gentlemen, but the way I see it, I am going down into Darius’s lair one way or the other, and it might as well be in the manner I decide. Not his.” “I made the offer. You have refused. So be it.” Cocidius turned to his followers. “Take her. Blood letting is allowed, but do not kill her.” A roar unlike anything she’d ever heard echoed in the small chamber, one that had probably not been heard since the time of the last wars for the preservation of the ancient races in Ireland. Throwing up the protection shield she’d used against Ezra, she evaded the ancient god and his warriors and ran to release the human. “I’m sending out a tourist, Gor. He needs medical help.”
“What was the roar we just heard?” “Ancient Tuatha De Danaan battle cries. I’ll be sending them your way in a second.” “We’ll take care of them, Debby.” Gor paused. “Good luck.” “Accursed woman! Show yourself. You can not escape,” bellowed the old god, his face red with anger. “The human will not be allowed past the bend. Do not try our patience.” Ignoring the old one, she undid the man’s bonds from behind, then whispered in his ear, “Do not show them you are loose. Wait. When I say the words ‘so mote it be’ run up the tunnel and to the outer cave. There are people there to help you. ” “Who are you, ” he hissed. “And why can’t I see you? ” “I’m a friend. Just do what I say. ” The man nodded, flexing his hands behind his back and quietly stamping his feet as he eyed the large ghostly warriors before him. Satisfied that he would do as she said, Debby circled around behind the warriors on the path that led even deeper into the mountain. Lifting the protective shield, she surrounded herself in light. “Yoo-hoo, old guys. Over here.” She smiled at them and waved as they turned to find her. “Now, the last time I used Andraste. I like her a lot. A forward-thinking chick for her time, but since I’m out- numbered six to one here, I think I’ll call upon the big guns this time.” “Stop your blethering, woman, ” shouted Cocidius. “All know that a mere fledgling witch cannot call down any other than the most minor of deities.” “Well, now you must’ve been talking to Darius again.” Debby shook her head sadly. “He told you I was a mere fledgling?” Cocidius nodded his mighty head, causing his long red hair to fly about his face. “Wel- l- l- ll, he lied.” Debby laughed at the look of consternation that crossed the old god’s face. “I may be rusty, but I’m no fledgling. Watch. ” Without any feelings of remorse or regret, she raised her hands and reaching deep into her darker self, calling upon all the forces of Nature and the Underworld: Air, fire, water, and earth, Hear me and answer my call. Fionn MacCumhal, god/king of the Fianna, I beseech you with the call of the ancients “Ride to victory!” to aid me in my time of need. In the name of the Father, the Goddess, and the all the gods of the Irish pantheon. So mote it be! At her final word, she sensed the former captive stumble up the incline and around the bend out of sight. The ancients, includ ing Cocidius, were too busy fighting the elements and the ghost warriors of the Fianna to worry about one small man or her. As she turned to go down the tunnel, Fionn called to her. “What to you want us to do with these heathen, lass?” “Chase them out into the clearing in front of this mountain, ” she called over her shoulder. “I have friends there who will send them back to the Underworld where they belong. ”
The noble King of the Fianna smiled and nodded. “It will be done, mistress.” “Thanks to you and blessed be your journey home, Fionn MacCumhal. ” The cries of the ancient followed her down onto the black-on-black darkness of the narrowing passageway. Recalling the fire elementals and placing the others on standby, Debby waited until her eyes adjusted to the dim tunnel. The walls verged just ahead. The space left wouldn’t even allow a stick thin size zero model through, let alone her more curvy proportions. “Gor, ask Drake to join our mental path.” “He’s already here, Debby.” “The calling up of the ancients and elementals was well done,” Drake said. “Thanks, but that was a mere distraction. Darius didn’t really expect me to roll over for a bunch of ancient ghost warriors.” “He may think to have you deplete your energies, softening you up for the real battle with him.” “Then he’ll be surprised when he finds me less than depleted, won’t he?” “Why are you calling?” Drake asked. “As I told Cocidius, I am no fledgling, just rusty from lack of use. But I never did have any transposition spells or dematerializing spells at hand when I was testing my limits all those years ago. I need to get through this.” She sent them a mental image of the obstacle that lay just ahead of her. Boris was somewhere on the other side, and she wasn’t going to let a little gap in rock stop her. Drake imprinted the spell to allow her to slip through the gap without dematerializing. Murmuring it, she found herself shrinking just like Alice had when she drank the potion in Wonderland. Slipping through the crack, she reversed the spell. She shook off the slight feelings of disorientation and quickly, but cautiously, ran forward toward a light she spied in the distance. An almost inhuman scream of pain reverberated around the narrow confines of the tunnel. It came from ahead. Darius was torturing her mate. He would soon be eating dirt and joining his brethren in the deepest fiery pits of mankind’s Hell. No comfy good old boys’ club in the Underworld for Darius. Debby planned on sending him to Limbo. **** Boris breathed his way through the pain. His path to the astral plane had been blocked by whatever spell Darius had placed upon him. His only hope of escape now would be a rescue from aboveground. “Darius!” “No, Debby, go back!” he shouted and received a hard backhand across the mouth for his efforts. Though reluctant to let her into his mind where she would surely share his pain, he had no choice. Darius could not read their mental path, had no knowledge that she was his betrothed mate. “Bébé, please go back and bring the others. He has this paralyzation spell.” “Hush, now, darling. This is the Fate-thing, remember. We are on the merry-goround and heading home for the brass ring. I’m going to beat this asshole into Limbo and
send his minions along with him.” “Debby, bébé,” he sighed. “Tell me what to do.” “Don’t close off to me. Open yourself to Gor and the others. They are sharing our private mental path. How badly are you hurt? If I loose your bonds, can you come to me?” “I can’t move. The spell.” “Then I’ll just have to come to you, my love.” “Show yourself, Debby, ” ordered Darius. “Or I’ll slit his throat.” Boris stared at the hand holding a sharp serrated-edge knife just above his jugular. From above, a bolt of lightning struck the arm that held the knife and a strong wind swept Darius away from Boris’s body. “Leave my man alone, Darius. You wanted me here to play with you, so come and play. ” Debby’s voice echoed around the cave. “But first you have to find me, dipwad.” Screaming a spell at the top of his lungs, Darius called upon spectral mists to fill the cave. Boris wasn’t sure what that was supposed to accomplish. The spell Debby used would allow her to blend, but then Darius was so steeped in the darker aspects of magick, he wouldn’t think a white elemental chameleon spell would defeat him. Heartened by Debby’s intelligent use of all her magick, Boris waited for his chance to escape. “I’m here, my love,” she whispered in his mind as she quickly rid him of the bindings. “My poor Bo, he has messed up your beautiful golden skin.” In a much harsher tone than he’d ever heard from her before, she muttered telepathically, “He’ll pay for that a hundredfold. Just lie here. I need to get rid of this spell and the only way to do that is to divert his attention.” “Darius, behind you, shithead.” Darius turned. A wave of his hand had his men surround the stone table where Boris lay. Debby had shed her protection spell and stood between him and Darius. A low humming noise told him that she had placed a protective ring around him. Somehow her spell nullified the paralysis spell. He could move. “Bébé, I can move. We can leave. I will fight by your side in my animal form.” “Hold that thought, Bo. But right now, this cretin needs to learn a lesson about the use and abuse of power. And I’m just the witch to teach him. I learned the lesson a long time ago that day at the lake. Besides, no one bloodies my mate and lives to breathe in freedom another day.” “Debby, don’t kill him. It is not worth the stain on your soul. Let me tear out his throat.” “Who said I was going to kill him? Where I intend to send him, he’ll wish I had killed him every single second he breathes.” Boris shuddered at the images of a frozen lake filled with fire and dark souls who cried for death. He’d remember never to get on the wrong side of his mate. She didn’t get mad, she got even. “Okay, Darius. Here I am. Come and get me. See if you can rape me and drain me of my power. I double-damn-dare you. ” “Bitch! You’ll rue the day you challenged me. And before you die, I’ll rip out the heart of your man and make you eat it.” “Talk, talk, talk,” Debby taunted as she buffed her nails on her khakis.
“What are you doing?” Boris asked. “Wait and see.” “Brother, Drake is laughing his ass off out here. He says she knows what she is doing. The only problem is getting the both of you out of there after she does it.” “That’s where we’ll need some help,” Debby admitted as she continued to loudly taunt the enraged Darius. “You’ll have it, Debby,” Gor assured them. “Drake and the Elders are debating the correct spell now. They’ll be ready when you need it.” “That’ll be in about a minute or so. The energy in this cave is almost at critical mass.” “Oh shit,” swore Boris as he figured out what she planned on doing. Armageddon in a cave. “Exactly, my love.” Her mental touch stroked him. “We’re gonna die,” he whispered aloud so that only she could hear. “No we aren’t,” she hissed back. “We are the parents of two unborn full witch-shifter boys. The Battle of Lincoln Park ain’t got nothing on us.” Drake and Gor laughed inside Boris’s head. “The power of three!” shouted his brother. “Enough, bitch! ” Darius roared, a dark wind swirling around his body, raising his dark locks like the wings of a carrion bird. “Fight me like a true witch. ” “Nope. I’ll fight my way, thank you. ” She raised her arms. Hear me, gods of the earth, sky, air and water, Ancient and new. Come to me now. Feed upon the energy around and of me. The power of three abides within me as one. Send these dark ones to the lake that burns like fire And chills like ice. Never to return to the Otherworld of peace and light So mote it be! At Debby’s last word, hell broke loose within the cave. His mate threw herself over him as the gale- force winds threatened to lift him into the spiraling devastation around them. “Hold on, Bo,” Debby shouted into his ear as she wrapped herself around him. Her arms clung weakly to him, scaring him to the marrow of his bones. “Debby! You’re hurt?” “No. It is taking all my strength to maintain the gravity spell to hold us down and juggle the elementals I’ve unleashed.” “We need to transport out,” he growled in her ear as he reversed their positions and placed her under his heavier body. But Debby didn’t hear him. She had slipped into a comatose state, yet still maintained the spell holding them from being sucked up into the maelstrom she had created. “Gor! Drake! Debby is unconscious. We need to transport.” “She did that to conserve enough energy to do so, Boris,” Drake said.
“Use the words we just placed into your mind and tap into her core energy to get you both out of there before the mountain comes down on top of you,” Gor ordered. Praying hard, Boris recited the words to the transportation spell and held onto the precious woman lying within his arms. As the words were swept away into the conflagration Boris felt the world fall away. A loud humming and buzzing reminiscent of radio static filled his head. Millions upon millions of light particles encompassing the color spectrum swept through his mind’s eye, amplifying the sensation of flying buffeting their bodies. The only thing solid in the world around him was the feel of Debby’s body as he clutched her to him with a steely embrace. Just before darkness took him into a infinite void of nothingness, Debby’s voice whispered in his head, “I love you, Bo. Forever and beyond.”
Chapter Eight Twenty-four hours later, Debby Teague’s bedroom It was the warmth that woke her, that and the arm across her middle and the hand arm caressing her abdomen. She was alive. “That had better be my mate’s hand,” she whispered, a roughness in her voice from lack of use. “Or we’re in trouble here.” “Bébé, mon amour, comment vous sentez-vous?” Boris’s worry came through loud and clear. “I’m fine,” she reassured him, stroking the hand that covered her womb. “We’re fine.” “I was so worried,” he whispered against her ear, as he nibbled and licked the sensitive lobes. “You slept so long. June, Selena, and all the Elders assured me you and nos bébés were fine, but you slept like the dead, and…” Debby turned within the circle of his warm and protective embrace and took her lover’s mouth with a hungry kiss. Boris, never a slouch in the love- making department, took the hint and deepened it, a low groan in the back of his throat. Breaking away from her lips, he nibbled and licked anywhere he could reach and muttered in a mixture of Russian, French and English words that told her she was loved—no, adored. When he stopped kissing her, he shook her and growled, “Never, ever place yourself and our babies in such danger again. I’d rather die a thousand times over than risk your life.” “Knock it off, Bo darling.” She stroked the worry lines on his forehead. “I told you that this mate protection stuff goes both ways.” She pinched his chin. “I wasn’t too thrilled to learn that you went into confront Darius all by yourself. Have you ever heard of the concept called backup before?” Boris frowned, then started laughing. Debby smiled. He finally got it. “Yes, petit chat d’enfer, I got it.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of her nose as he pulled her against his hard, naked cock. “I’ve got it. You’ll protect me, and I’ll protect you. We are a team, yes?” “Yes. A team,” she assured him. “Out of the bedroom and in the public eye. But here, in our bed, you are always king.” She leaned into him and rubbed her breasts against his chest. Then she gasped, pushing him away. Eyeing him she stroked his chest with her hands. “The bruises. The lash marks. They’re gone!” Lifting her gaze to his fiery golden eyes, she asked, “Just how long was I unconscious? You’re healed! You were so bloody, so weak…” Her words trailed off as tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t speak without sobbing. “Ssh, ssh, little one, mon couer.” He pulled her face against his chest and pressed kisses into her hair. “I heal quickly when I shift into my animé form—and what I couldn’t heal, June and Selena did. I’m fine. We’re fine. Hush now, bébé, your tears are killing me.” After brushing his lips across her forehead, he lifted her face to his. “If you’d awakened several hours ago, you would have found a large shaggy wolfhound in your
bed instead of your naked mate.” He chuckled. “What would you have thought of that, eh?” Laughing through the tears, she said, “Kinky, my love, but I wouldn’t have kicked you out of bed. I just wo uld have appealed to the human in you to come out and play. ” “You want to play, mon petit chaton de sexe?” he asked huskily, his eyes shooting amber sparks. “Yes-s-s-s” she replied on a sigh. “Make me yours all over again until I don’t know where I stop and you begin.” Boris hesitated, a flash of worry creasing his forehead. “I’m fine. All recharged and ready to go. See?” Debby waved a hand and lifted both of them off the bed until they and the bedcovers floated a foot off the mattress. Another wave of her hand, and the bedclothes fell away to the floor, leaving them naked and clinging to one another. A few whispered words and Debby had reversed their positions, then floated them back to the bed surface. “Now, I think you promised me a ride, Bo. And I’m claiming it—you can go back to being dominant male—later.” “Count on it, mon couer,” he said as he pulled her onto his cock and gave her the wild ride they both desired. “Forever.” The End About the Author: Rae Morgan is the pen name for a multi-published author of suspense/thrillers. She's been married to the love of her life for far longer than she cares to remember. Her home is in Central Indiana. Visit Rae's website at: http://www.raemorgan.com Email Rae at: rae@ raemorgan.com
Redemption Sherrill Quinn Dedication This book wouldn’t have been possible without the support and encouragement from my brazen vixen friends. Thank you for your good wishes and for not holding back with the 2x4s when they were needed!
Prologue “I love a good funeral, don’t you? ” The second she heard those words, Abby McNeil knew she was in trouble. Because she wasn’t at a funeral. She stood at the corner of Main and First, waiting to cross the street to go back to the bank after her lunch break. While being a loan officer wasn’t the most glamorous of professions, the job suited her. She loved the detail and working with numbers. Meeting new people was a bonus. She turned her head and stared at the man standing behind her shoulder. He was tall and thin with an angular, pock-marked face. His black eyes glittered, reminding her of a snake readying itself to strike. She could almost feel the evil emanating from him. And that scared her, because she wasn’t ordinarily a fanciful person. Or one who took an immediate dislike to people. But this man … this man frightened her on an elemental level. She took a step away from him, trying to decide if she should wait for the crosswalk sign to turn or simply head down the street—anywhere to get away from him. Her horoscope had cautioned her to be careful today. With the hair on the back of her neck standing at attention, she knew her first mistake of the day had been getting out of bed. “Yep, ya just can’t do any better than a good funeral.” He crowded against her back. One hand gripped her arm, the other pressed something blunt against the small of her back. Abby felt her eyes widen. Was that a gun? Well, there was her second mistake of the day. She should’ve followed her instincts and run the second she thought of it. “Don’t scream, don’t do anything to draw attention, and you’ll be fine.” The blunt object dug into her flesh. “And this is a gun, in case you were wondering.” “Wh-what do you want?” She swallowed hard. Her gaze darted around, trying to find an avenue of escape or someone to help her. “Don’t bother tryin’ to find someone to save you, ” the man drawled softly. “I got my jacket over my arm, so nobody can see the gun. We’ll just mosey across the street and have a chat with my boss.” The walk sign flashed, and he urged her forward. They moved through a group of other people hurrying back from lunch. Several people talked on their cell phones; all were intent on whatever business they had to attend to and paid no attention to Abby and her unwanted companion. “Who’s your boss?” She had no idea what this man wanted, or who his employer was. All she knew was that she had to get away from him. She glanced around, but the man with his black suit and smarmy face filled her panicked vision. “Now, that ain’t important.” They stepped up onto the curb and he turned her toward the left. Beyond a crowd of pedestrians, she saw a shiny black limousine parked a few feet away. She knew once he got her in that car, her life was over. Whoever his boss was, he wasn’t playing. And with a gun in her back she was pretty sure he didn’t want to talk. “Well, if he wants to, um, chat, shouldn’t I know who I’m chatting with? ” “Nope.”
The back door of the limo opened and another man climbed out. This one was huge. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall and nearly as wide. The beefy hand that curled over the top of the car door was easily the size of one of her dinner plates. She must have slowed down, because the goon beside her tightened his grip and said, “Don’t be shy, Ms. McNeil. That’s just Bulldog. He’s harmless … as long as you cooperate.” In the darkened glass of the door she could make out the face of a man sitting inside the car. She squinted, trying to get a better look. This must be the ‘boss.’ A passerby bumped into the man holding her, knocking his hand from her arm. Abby immediately spun away and ran into the street, her only thought to escape. She saw the car mere seconds before it slammed into her, but couldn’t stop her momentum. The impact sent her flying through the air and shock robbed her body of feeling. It was almost surreal, as if she were on the outside looking in. She slammed into the ground and slid across the rough pavement. Her horoscope had been right. ‘Today will not be a good day for the dreamy Piscean. Be careful when venturing outside.’ The screeching tires of the fleeing car faded, and everything went black. When Abby came to, she was in a hospital. Heavy casts encased both legs. She fuzzily noted they were elevated off the bed. She reached up to rub at the ache between her eyes. A bandaged hand and arm swam into sight. Hers, she realized. Blinking, she tried to clear her vision. It all became too much of an effort, and she closed her eyes. Her last thought was of the man in the limousine. She’d seen him before. But where? **** Abby swam to awareness again, blinking sleepily. Feeling a tight, pinching sensation, she raised her arm and looked down. When she saw an intravenous tube, she frowned, then dropped her arm back onto the bed. From the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of movement and thought she saw someone leave her room. Through the solid—and closed—door. She must be hurt badly, if she was hallucinating. The door swished open. A white-coated figure came into her field of vision, but she couldn’t seem to focus on him. A cool hand lifted her wrist to take her pulse. Abby licked her lips and tried to speak past the dryness in her throat and mouth. “Thirsty. ” “Yes, I imagine you are.” It was a man’s voice. His hand left her wrist and pulled a pillow from behind her head. “I can take care of that for you. ” The pillow slammed over her face. She clawed at the hands holding it. She kicked and bucked. The pain in her battered body increased tenfold. Her screams muffled by the pillow, she felt tears leak from the corners of her eyes. Tiny pinpricks of light danced behind her closed lids. Her lungs gasped for air that just … wasn’t … there. Then he was gone. She heard the sound of struggle, the scuff of shoes on the linoleum floor, the thump of fists striking flesh. Almost mindless with panic, she fought to get the pillow off her face. Sobbing, she finally managed to knock it aside just as she heard a sharp crack, then a louder thud. Looking around, she saw the room was empty.
Except for the pockmark-faced corpse on the floor.
Chapter 1 “You’ll be all right, Miss McNeil. ” The doctor flashed a penlight in her eyes, then took her pulse. “Once the morphine takes effect, you should feel a marked improvement in your pain level. ” He patted her hand before speaking to the two policemen standing nearby. “Just a few minutes, detectives. She needs to rest.” “Fine.” The larger of the two walked closer to the bed. Pulling a pad and pen from his pocket, he hooked his foot around the leg of a chair and drew it closer to the bed. He sat down and stared at her. His brown hair was cut in a military style. Stretching his neck, he ran his finger under his collar. Pale blue eyes glittered with suspicion. Abby flinched at the hostility she saw in his gaze. She knew her story was farfetched, but it was the truth. “So, you’re telling me you have no idea who the guy was?” The police detective looked down at his notes, his thick- fingered hand scribbling in his too-small notebook. Abby drew a deep breath and tried to hold on to her patience. “As I told you, Detective Conrad, I saw him for the first time when he tried to abduct me off the street. He said his boss wanted to talk to me.” “About what?” “I. Don’t. Know. ” She felt like screaming. Even though they had moved her to another room, she could still see the man’s body in the room across the hallway, where the crime scene techs still worked. “How many times do I have to say this? That man…” she gestured toward the open doorway, “tried to kidnap me two days ago. When I tried to run from him I got hit by a car. Here I am.” With her left hand, she gestured toward her legs. “Both of my legs are broken, and my right collarbone is fractured. Hence the sling.” She lifted her right arm slightly and winced at the sharp twinge of pain. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, considering she’d ignored the pain when she’d been clawing at her attacker with both hands. The morphine must’ve kicked in. ’Bout time. “And you saw no one else?” This from the other man, standing by the doorway. He was dressed in the same brown suit as Conrad. Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee. “No. I heard scuffling and what sounded like a fistfight.” She winced, remembering her panicked struggle to get the pillow off her face. “When I was able to see, the dead man was the only other person in the room.” “But you saw the door closing, right? Like the other guy just slipped out of the room? ” Conrad stared at her expectantly, looking like he needed something, anything that made sense. “No. I saw nothing else.” Conrad got up and went over to his partner. They held a short, quiet conversation, then Conrad looked back at her and said, “We’ll look into this, Ms. McNeil. And we’ll be back with more questions.” It sounded like a threat. She frowned at him. He gestured to her legs. “Doesn’t look like you’ll be going anywhere any time soon.
And there’s a uniformed officer on the door, in case you get any ideas that you might.” He walked to the door, stopping so abruptly that Tweedle-Dee bumped into him. “We’ll be in touch, ” he said with a nasty smile. Abby watched the two men leave, the n laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She was so tired. Part of it was the morphine and part was just the emotional drain from being attacked twice in as many days. “You’ll be all right, little one,” she heard a masculine voice say. She opened her eyes, but there was no one in the room. Closing her eyes, she fought against tears. She was hallucinating again. First, the figure she’d seen go through a solid door, then a voice that came from the air. But a sense of peace, of rightness, came over her so strongly that she didn’t question it. She knew she’d be all right. But right now, she just wanted to go home. **** Four months later Abby walked toward the park, trying not to be self-conscious about her halting gait. She kept her gaze on her feet to make sure she didn’t stumble over anything. It was still so difficult to walk, it didn’t take much to knock her off balance. She thought about the dream she’d had last night, the dream she’d had nearly every night since leaving the hospital. While the theme was usually varied, the man in her dreams was always the same. The last dream was the worst one yet. Her dream hero was dressed in black, complete with a black riding cloak. She wasn’t a historian, but his apparel looked to be mid-seventeenth century. She’d watched helplessly while he was arrested for highway robbery. He had held such a look of hatred for the man reading the charges that, even in her dream, she’d flinched. It was always his eyes that drew her. Eyes that seemed to watch over her. Protect her. Deep, dark brown orbs full of emotion: sadness, anger, lust. It was the lust that quickened her heart, made her body restless against the sheets. Lust that was mirrored by her own desire. While she knew he had dark hair and eyes, his features were always in shadow, wrapping him in mystery. But it didn’t matter to her if he was handsome or ugly. She was halfway in love with him. And he was a figment of her imagination. The car that plowed into her had messed her up more than just physically. She was losing her mind too, falling in love with a dream- man. She skirted a break in the sidewalk and headed toward her favorite bench. She loved this time of day, just before dusk. The park across the street from her apartment was quiet, giving her time for rest and reflection. * From where he leaned, unseen, against a tree, Damon Stratham watched her walk across the manicured lawn of the park, her bright head bowed. Limp, step. Limp, step. He knew her routine as well as she did. When she reached the bench, she leaned over and brushed off the faded wood. She sat daintily as she did every day, her trouser-clad legs bent at an almost military angle.
A brief smile flitted across his lips. She would have fit right in at Court. He could almost see her moving among the royal family, easily charming them with her quiet grace. His smile faded. He had no business thinking about the past. But once the thought was there, others crowded in. His father’s farce of a trial, his own rebellion against the Crown. Trying to right a wrong with another wrong had not been the cleverest of ideas. But, dam … darn it. He had paid for his crime with a hangman’s noose. And while he hadn’t made it into Heaven, he hadn’t gone to the other place, either. Not yet. And he wouldn’t, as long as he stayed true to his new ‘career’ of helping those in need of defense. He gave a silent laugh and rotated his shoulders, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his neck that thoughts of his death always caused. New career. After nearly four hundred years, nothing could be called new. He had felt the weighty passage of time, had seen the changes in the world. The advances, the retreats. He’d read some of the finest literature humans had to offer. And some of the worst. On every assignment he always wore the clothing of the time and learned the latest technologies. Some assignments offered more time to do that than others. Abby … well, Abby was his latest assignment. Another person in need, like all the others before her. But there was something different about her. Something that brought out possessive instincts he hadn’t known he’d had anymore. He felt as if she belonged to him. She was his. He had watched over her all these months, struck again and again by her courage, her determination to heal, her beauty. It was more than the way her pert breasts rose above her narrow ribcage or the way her curvy derriere swayed when she walked. It wasn’t just how her reddish-blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight as if covered with a net of the finest of diamonds, nor was it the way her skin glowed with a healthy sheen. It was the way she lived, as if her brush with death had made her determined to experience life to the fullest. From the simplest of things, like stopping in the park every day to take a moment to enjoy nature, or learning to speak Greek so she could go to Athens. She, who was afraid to fly. He, who was afraid of very little, was very much afraid that he’d fallen in love with her. It just wasn’t done. It was against regulations. But he’d always had a hard time playing by other people’s rules. Even if the ‘other people’ was God. His attention caught by a slight movement to his right, he focused on a dirty, angerfilled face hidden by brush to the left of the bench. Damon moved forward, making himself visible just as he reached the would-be mugger’s side. The man yelped and jumped back, falling over his feet to land on his ass. Doing a fast crabwalk backwards, he scurried out of Damon’s reach, then stood and ran into the wooded cover of the park, throwing one last frightened look over his shoulder. Damon turned, biting back a curse when he realized his ‘assignment’ was looking at him. Cursing was one habit he couldn’t seem to break, and the Big Guy didn’t appreciate swearing. But it was more than that. He wasn’t supposed to be seen by those he protected. When in the guise of a Protector, he lived in a world of shadows. Becoming visible, for a
Protector, meant taking on the human form with all its strengths and frailties. Now he could see the vibrant colors, smell the first blooms of spring, taste the hint of rain in the air. She would be able to see and touch him now. Unfortunately, there was no help for it.
Chapter 2 Somehow, Damon couldn’t hold on to the idea that being able to interact with her was bad. Especially because of the way she stared at him with wide eyes that appeared a bit larger behind the round copper- framed glasses perched on her slender nose. “Hello,” he said, staying where he was so he wouldn’t seem threatening to her. “Don’t worry, he’s gone.” “I wasn’t worried,” she replied quietly, soft green eyes searching his face. “I’m lucky you were nearby to frighten him off, although I didn’t see you come up.” She smiled, a delicate, sad movement of silken lips that tightened his throat. “I guess my mind was somewhere else.” He couldn’t respond. While he had been protecting her for four months, he had rarely heard her talk. After the vehicle accident nearly claimed her life, he’d been sent to replace her first Protector. At that point, she’d been introspective, reclusive. Now, hearing her speak directly to him, her dulcet tones chimed a chord deep within him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. She stood and limped closer to him. One slender hand reached out and he automatically grasped it. “My name’s Abby, ” she said. “Abby McNeil.” Unable to stop himself, he lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a tender kiss on the inside of her fragile wrist. Her sweet scent, a mixture of honeysuckle and cinnamon, invaded his senses. He clenched his jaw against a sudden surge of unexpected desire. Desire that he hadn’t felt in four hundred years. Though bewildered by uncharacteristic emotion, he managed to introduce himself. “Damon Stratham. ” God. His entire body was tense with a physical need he shouldn’t feel. Shouldn’t have been able to feel. He never should have touched her. * Abby’s breath hitched in her throat and her lower body clenched at the touch of his lips on her skin. Instantly attracted by the crisp British inflection in his deep voice, not to mention the hard length of his body, she realized he still held her hand while she stared at him like an idiot. Blushing, she pulled her hand away. Just because he had a do- me factor that went off the charts didn’t mean she had to act like a gaping schoolgirl. His face was hard planes and angles, his nose aquiline. A chiseled mouth was saved from looking too harsh by a sensually full lower lip. His dark hair curled over the collar of his shirt, inviting any woman over the age of eighteen to thread her fingers through the strands. Blue jeans covered long, long legs. She looked back up at his face. Brown eyes stared down at her with what looked to be panic, mixed with a spark of lust. Lust? For her? He must not have seen her walking up to the park, then. What normal man wanted a broken woman? Even if said woman had the urge to jump his bones. She fixed her gaze on the buttons of his shirt. It was time to retreat. This desire to peel the clothes off a stranger and have her way with him was beyond her experience. And comfort level. “Well, Mr. Stratham, thank you again for rescuing me.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured. She started to leave, but turned back as a thought occurred to her. “You seem so familiar. Have we met?” Familiar as if her very soul recognized him. The throbbing in her pussy seemed to agree. Not, she thought with sadness, that anything would ever happen. A full-blown smile crossed his face, turning it from interestingly craggy to heartstoppingly beautiful. Her nipples tightened in interest and her heart beat a hard rhythm against her ribs. “No, ma’am, ” he said, and the smile still tugging at his lips caused dimples to groove his chiseled cheeks. “We’ve never met before.” “Oh. Well, now we have.” She grimaced at how inane she sounded. “Would you like to have a cup of coffee?” he asked. A look flitted across his face, suggesting that he instantly regretted the impetuous words. “Oh, no, I can’t.” Her instinctive reaction was prompted by his obvious wish to retract the invitation, and she fought to maintain her composure. She wasn’t a charity case for some stranger to pity. Her body drooped, while inbred politeness prompted her to murmur, “But thank you. ” She turned and walked away from him, more aware of her scarred and crippled legs than ever before. The physical therapist kept assuring her that she would eventually walk without a limp, but she was impatient. She’d been in therapy for three and a half months already. How eventual was eventually? She was aware of his gaze following her as she crossed the street to walk the rest of the block to her apartment. When she stepped up on the curb she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder. Disappointed to see he was gone, she heaved a sigh. “Oh, well, Abs. You aren’t his type, anyway. ” Damon frowned when he heard her muttered comment. He walked a few paces behind her in his Protector form, watching her pert fanny swing with her uneven gait. If anything, the limp made her even sexier. It made him want to strip those pants from her and slide into her sweet, wet pussy with a cock that now was rock-solid. His frown deepened. Even in corporeal form, this had never happened on assignment. He hadn’t thought it was possible for it to happen when he was in spirit form, yet here he was with an erection throbbing along his thigh like a third leg. He didn’t know what it was about her, but his body reacted with wild need in her presence. Maybe it was that she was exactly his type: elegant, independent and determined, with a gut-wrenching beauty that threatened to double him over with need. Incredible that she couldn’t see how sexy she was. But he knew every man she came into contact with saw it. And he tensed with jealousy. She was his. He curled his fingers into his palms. What the hel… heck was he thinking? He was a specter, sent to protect this woman and thereby assure himself a place in Heaven. He had no business lusting after her. That emotion definitely wouldn’t get him past the pearly gates. “Get hold of yourself, man, ” he muttered, in his distraction forgetting to mask his words. When her head turned sharply, he realized he’d spoken aloud. She looked around, her eyes searching. After a slight hesitation, she entered the building. Following her into her apartment, Damon watched. Stooping slowly and painfully to
pick up an orange tabby that nattered around her feet, she rubbed her face into the soft fur, her eyes closed as she straightened. He shook his head. Damned if they both didn’t have the same expression on their faces, woman and feline. Closed-eyed contentment. How long had it been since he’d felt that? Dammit, dammit, dammit! He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Perhaps he’d better ask for re-assignment before his emotions got him into trouble. But he didn’t think he could leave Abby to another Protector. After the first one’s abysmal failure, he didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe. “You know, Jericho, it’s the oddest thing, but for the last several weeks I’ve had the feeling that I’m never alone. I’ve never felt such … peace, such a sense of security. ” She rubbed her face against the cat’s head. “Between that and the dreams, I think maybe I’m finally losing it. What d’ya think?” The cat meowed and butted his head against her chin. She laughed and placed him on the back of the sofa. “I know, you glutton. You want to be fed again. My horoscope warned me about you. ‘Today someone you love will be focused on their own needs. Don’t feel bad. They’ll come around.’” She scratched the big tabby on his jaw, laughing again when he stretched his neck and tilted his head to give her better access. “And I do love you, fat cat. You’re my baby, aren’t you? ” Damon felt almost a sense of domesticity, watching her putter around the small apartment, talking to the cat and laughing at herself. If nothing else, her encounter with him seemed to have lightened her mood. For that he was glad. If only… He deliberately closed his mind to further thought. He was here to do a job. He was to make sure she was protected from the man who sought to harm her, a man who had very nearly succeeded when her former Protector had been distracted. Damon had been given very strict instructions to assure her safety; he’d sat beside her as she lay in the hospital bed, both legs in casts, face bruised and swollen. She had been stubbornly determined to get well, and he’d fallen a little bit in love with her then. Abby had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had unwittingly witnessed a vicious crime. Not that she was even aware of it. But the man thought she was, and sought to silence her forever. Which was where Damon came in. He was her Protector, and he’d be damned if he’d let the villain succeed. He stilled, realizing the import of his words. The veracity they represented. Never mind that she was his hope for redemption, another successfully completed assignment. He would accept the damnation of his eternal soul if it ensured that Abigail McNeil would be safe. She was more than just a job to him, had been from the moment he’d materialized in her hospital room and had seen her lying so still against the sheets. Now, after having protected her for these many months, he knew he would risk everything to ensure she lived. When she went into the bathroom and readied for bed, he stayed in the living room. Hearing the water in the shower running, he clenched his fists. He closed his eyes and had no problem picturing what she looked like. Her hair, wet and sleek down her back, curled slightly at the ends just above the rounded curve of her buttocks. Long, slender legs, once strong, now weaker and scarred.
In his mind’s eye, he moved around to her front. Her breasts rode high and firm above her ribcage. Each mound was tipped with a hard, pink nipple, begging for his mouth. Her stomach was slightly rounded, womanly. Soft, light red hair covered her mons and sheltered her secrets from his gaze. He could see her soaping her hands, running them over her soft skin, between her legs… His cock rose and he stared in disbelief. Again he had an erection. What the hel…heck was going on? The water shut off and he snapped open his eyes. He heard the shower curtain jangle open, and imagined her stepping out of the tub and toweling off. He wished it were his hands drying her. No, not his hands. His lips, his tongue. He would trace every drop of water, licking it off her silken skin. “Poor baby, ” she said, walking back into the living room. He stilled, then realized she spoke to the tabby winding around her ankles. She held her robe over one arm and wore a towel wrapped turban-style around her head… and nothing else. “I forgot to feed you. Come on. ” She drew on her robe as she went into the kitchen, but Damon had the image of her body seared in his mind. She was exactly as he’d pictured. High, taut breasts with soft pink nipples, long slender legs that melded into a heart-shaped ass. What he hadn’t imagined was the smattering of freckles across her chest. He was partial to freckles. Fairy kisses, his mother had always called them. They made him want to kiss his way around Abby’s body, following that golden, inviting trail. Abby fed the cat and got herself a drink of water. When she went into her bedroom, he couldn’t resist following her. She rubbed the towel against her wet hair, then dropped it over the back of a chair. Shrugging off the robe, she slid into bed naked. Damon watched for a while, listening to her sighing breaths as they evened out in sleep. Slender shoulders peeked above the sheets, skin not much darker than the pristine white linens. He moved close enough to be able to see the gilded trail of fairy kisses across her chest. The little sprinkles disappeared under the sheet. He wanted to follow that path and see if the freckles continued on skin that rarely saw sunlight. Thinking of her lying there naked didn’t do anything to lessen his erection. He snagged the towel from the back of the chair and quickly walked back into the living room before he did something stupid—and forbidden—like slide into bed with her. There was still the problem of his hard-on. Not bothering to question it any more, he took on corporeal form and unzipped his pants. His cock, the tip already pushing above the waist of his briefs, throbbed in its demand for release. He pushed his underwear down, hooked it under his tight balls, and gripped his shaft in his right hand. His fist slid up, once, twice, then he ran it from the tip to the base, a quick brush. He imagined it was Abby touching him, light, soft hands moving slowly against his thick, pulsing shaft. With a sigh, he acknowledged that he didn’t need it slow and gentle. He needed hard and fast. He tightened his grip and pumped his cock, gritting his teeth as pleasure streaked through him. He was so hard it wouldn’t take much for him to blow. Bringing his right hand up, he palmed the head of his dick, rubbing it around and over the slitted tip. Then he slid it down to cup and finger his balls. Painful need engorged his shaft to even greater proportions. He moaned softly, so
softly he knew she couldn’t hear, but he couldn’t hold the sound in. His hips pumped as he jacked harder. With each stroke of his hand, he pictured Abby as she would look lying beneath him, her pussy wet and swollen and inviting. His hips jerked. He wrapped his fisted cock in the towel. He bit his lip to hold back his shout as his release spewed from him. Once his breathing calmed, he balled up the towel and dropped it on the floor. He slid his briefs and pants back over his hips, tucked his penis inside and pulled up the zipper. Feeling a bit more under control but unable to continue to resist her allure, he walked into the bedroom and stared at Abby. She moved restlessly under the sheets, her head tossing against the pillow. Long, strawberry blonde tendrils of hair streamed over the whiteness of the bed linen. Drawing the sheet down, he bared her body to his gaze. God, she was beautiful. He placed one hand on her shin and slid it slowly up, up, up until his fingers brushed the fine hair of her pubis. * Abby shifted restlessly. Her dream lover was with her again; this time, he was dressed in blue jeans and a snug black t-shirt that hugged the rugged contours of his chest and six-pack abs. She could see the rigid outline of his cock along his thigh. In her dream, she reached out to him and he came down on top of her, covering her with his greater bulk. He was hot and heavy and so sexy that she couldn’t contain a moan of passion. “Easy, love,” he murmured. “We’ve plenty of time.” The deep cadence of his voice was crisp with images of Big Ben, double-decker buses and fish and chips. His big hands cupped her face as he leaned in and captured her lips. His hands were hard and warm, his touch gentle. His lips were soft and tender as they moved over hers in a lover’s kiss that set her on fire. The stubble on his jaw rasped against her face and sent a sensual ache spreading through her body. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept in to tangle with hers. When he retreated, she followed and drank in the dark, semi-sweet taste of his mouth. She inhaled his masculine scent, which went straight to her head and made her dizzy. His hands slid around to her back, his mouth moved to her chin, her jaw, before moving to her throat. Day-old stubble scraped against her skin, sensitizing her flesh. Abby arched her neck, turning her head to give him more room, silently begging for more. He leaned on one elbow and kissed a path down across her chest. When she felt his hot breath on her breast, she drew in a sharp breath. Waited for his mouth to take hold of her nipple. “Breathe, dearling,” he whispered, making her realize she hadn’t yet exhaled. His tongue snaked across her nipple and the breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Strong fingers skimmed across the other nipple, then gently squeezed the hardening tip between thumb and forefinger. When his mouth latched on and began suckling its twin, heat rushed from the peaks of her breasts to twist low and deep inside her. He kissed his way to her other breast. His hand slid down her torso and long fingers tangled briefly in the hair covering her mons as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Her hips began to rock slowly, pressing her pussy into his warm touch. He moaned against her flesh and slipped a thick finger inside her weeping channel. His thumb rubbed over
her clit, making her whimper with need. With a moan, she arched her back, her head falling to one side. Abby tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, lifting her hips to coax him further, to push his finger deeper. “Please,” she whimpered, her body so tightly coiled she knew she hovered on the edge of a climax. “I will, dearling,” he whispered. His mouth blazed a trail between her breasts, down her stomach. He pressed a kiss to her navel, then twirled his tongue into the shallow indentation. She sucked in her breath as that light, wet touch zinged straight to her creaming pussy. “I’ll please you until you scream with the force of it. You are so beautiful.” He kissed down her abdomen, pausing to breathe in her scent. It was incredibly erotic. Arousing. No man had ever touched her like this, like he wanted to memorize her by touch, by smell, by sight. “My legs…” She faltered, not wanting this beautiful dream to end by something as pitiable as her scarred legs. “Lovely. ” He drew his tongue to the center of her, where her pulsing clit demanded more. Pressing his finger deeper into her, he lightly tongued her swollen nubbin. Breath shallow and gasping, Abby forgot about her legs. Forgot about everything except the pleasure focused between her thighs. He eased his finger from within her, stroked it back inside while drawing his tongue down her wet slit. His finger pulled out again and his tongue rimmed the opening of her channel, then flicked lightly through her folds. “Oh, God.” Abby raised her hips, pushing her pussy into his mouth, helpless under his sure, knowing touch. Heat spiraled through her, tightened her core, brought a sheen of perspiration to her skin. “Please…!” He plunged two fingers deep inside her, held them there for a moment, then stroked in and out as his mouth suckled her clit. Her hands gripped his silky hair, fingers tangling, grasping. Heat spread through her, her body tightened from head to toe. The air thickened with the fragrance of her desire. “Oh, my God. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Her hips rotated against his mouth, under his hand. Suddenly her orgasm exploded from her core, bowing her back until she was supported only by her head and heels. He eased his fingers from her, gentling her. She fell back against the bed, sated. Exhausted. With the knowledge that her dream lover watched her from dark, dark eyes, she drifted deeper into sleep.
Chapter 3 Abby woke the next morning with one thought on her mind. “Wow. What a dream. ” She stretched languidly, the cotton sheets soft on skin that still felt sensitized. The dream had been so real—from the touch of his hand and mouth to the wild, tangy scent of his skin. She turned her he ad into the pillow. Her senses were still on overload; she could smell him on the linens. “Yep, Abs,” she muttered, smacking her head into the pillow a few times. “You’re definitely losing it.” Jericho jumped onto the bed and butted her arm with the top of his head. His meow was loud and demanding. “All right, all right. Why do I need a man when I already have a demanding male in my bed?” She scratched him behind the ears, then pulled his whiskers. It was a game they played every morning. Jericho snarled at her, growling low in his throat. He batted at her with his front paw, keeping his claws sheathed. “Ooh, scary kitty. ” Abby climbed out of bed and stretched. She slipped into her robe and walked to the chair to pick up her towel. It wasn’t there. She looked around the room and didn’t see it. “I could’ve sworn I put the towel on the back of the chair.” She glanced at the cat with a raised eyebrow. He jumped off the bed and stalked toward her. “Jericho, have you been learning how to keep house?” He meowed and rubbed between her ankles. “Hmm. I didn’t think so.” She bent and scratched along his back. Straightening, she said, “Let me go pee and I’ll feed you, okay? ” She went into the bathroom and took care of her morning bladder. After drying her hands, she peeked in the hamper. There, rolled up in a ball, was the towel she’d dried her hair with. The one she knew she’d left on the back of the chair. Well, the one she thought she’d left on the chair. “Yep, Abs, you’re definitely losing it.” She padded into the kitchen and pulled out a can of cat food. Jericho started dancing around her legs, meowing like a crazy kitty. Plunking his food onto a plate, and the plate onto the floor, she grinned and shook her head when he dove in, tail lashing in feline glee. Abby went through the living room to the front door, where she retrieved the morning paper. Closing the door behind her, she absentmindedly locked it and walked back into the kitchen. The coffee machine clicked on and began brewing. She placed the paper on the table as she walked by. She felt a slight change in the temperature of the air and wondered at it for a moment. When she heard the air conditioning unit click off, she shrugged. Her imagination was working overtime, it seemed. But there had to be some explanation for the times when she felt the air cool around her. Those same times when a feeling of safety and serenity came over her for no reason, almost as if there was a presence with her. She had no other explanation for what she felt. It was a familiar feeling, very much like what she’d experienced with the man in the park yesterday.
She grimaced. First she’d been tempted to jump a guy she’d just met, now she was fantasizing that he was some sort of … what? Invisible protector? Hah! Jeez, if she hadn’t already lost her mind, she’d make herself crazy with all of this. With a small growl, she grabbed a bowl and fixed her usual cereal with banana cut up in it. After pouring a cup of coffee, she put her breakfast items on the table and sat down. Flipping through the paper, she stopped when she got to her horoscope. She smiled as she read. To the cautious Pisces: sometimes you’ve got to go with your gut. Act on instinct and figure out the fine print later. Her smile faded. Since the accident she had done better in not shying away from new things, but it was hard for her. Change was not something she did well. She re-read the horoscope. “Huh. Yeah, right. Easier said than done.” * Damon peered over her shoulder and read his horoscope. Taurus: Why settle for a nibble when you can have the whole thing? A little taste only whets your appetite. He stopped there, because the rest of it blathered on about how successful he’d be in business. He’d rather believe that the horoscope spoke to him and Abby. Not that any horoscope directed his path. No, there was a much Higher Power responsible for his future. But it was amusing to read. And while he didn’t put a lot of stock in what the daily horoscopes spouted, he knew Abby followed them religiously. More out of fun than any true belief, he thought, but every once in a while she seemed to take them seriously. Abby’s expression was sad as she chewed a bite of cereal, and he knew she was mulling over her horoscope. He didn’t understand why she thought she was resistant to change. Maybe before the accident, but he hadn’t known her then. He only knew her now. And what he knew, he loved. It had crept up on him. Even so, it felt right. It felt like he finally had a place to call home. And that place was Abby. Even if it was an illusion, he would hold onto it as long as he could. When she finished her meal and pushed her chair back, he moved out of the way. He wandered back into the living room and stood behind the sofa. She walked into the room and he admired again the graceful sway of her body. He wished she’d been born during his lifetime. Her influence might have kept him grounded, soothed his anger. She was just stubborn enough to stand up to his dominant personality. He would have married her instead of Charlotte. He and Abby could have had babies together… “I know you’re there.” Her voice broke into his thoughts. Damon looked at her, brows raised. She stared at the spot where he was standing, though he remained invisible to her eyes. “I can feel you. I felt you in the hospital, and I feel you now. ” She moved closer, one hand outstretched as if she were groping her way through a dark room. When her hand came into contact with his cold aura, she shivered and faltered, dropping her arm to her side. “There you are.” Her voice was quiet, determined. He stood quietly, not responding. “Please, let me see you. I know you’re there,” she repeated. “Please.”
Damon grimaced at her stubbornness, then frowned at his hypocrisy. Hadn’t he just admired that very quality? Tears flooded her eyes, making them glitter like emeralds behind the glasses. He stood silently, bracing himself against the wish to become visible so she’d cease her weeping. But the faster the tears trailed down her satiny cheeks, the more solid he became, until he stood before her in his earthly form. There was nothing to be done for it … it just was. “It’s you, ” Abby breathed, setting her glasses on a low side table and swiping at her wet cheeks. “Somehow, I knew it would be you. ” She studied him a moment, searching his features as if she could imprint him on her very being. “Are you an angel?” “No.” * Abby took a step back at his abrupt response. What kind of creature had she taken into her home? She sensed no antagonism from him and he’d saved her from the guy in the park, so she didn’t think he would harm her. She just hadn’t expected such a terse reply. “I’m a … Protector.” “A Protector,” she repeated, shaking her head. “Like a guardian angel, then? ” The man before her rotated his shoulders as if loosening kinks in the taut muscles. He walked over to the window and stood quietly for a moment, one hand clenched in the curtain. Finally, he said, “I used to be human. When I … ceased to exist in that form, I was given an opportunity for redemption. I’m to successfully protect a certain number of individuals. If I do, I’ll be redeemed.” “That doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard,” she murmured, standing beside him so she could watch his face. “I thought when people died, they either went to Heaven or Hell.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it’s not always that simple.” “Obviously not.” Abby studied his chiseled face a moment, focused on his lips. She was full of questions, but too bashful to ask them all. Finally she blurted, “Were you married?” She winced at her lack of sophistication and turned away from him. What a stupid, asinine question to ask. Dumb, dumb, dumb. He didn’t seem to mind, for he answered her readily enough. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. She died after we’d been married for only a year. I never took another wife.” “Why not?” Her curiosity was strong, her shyness fading. “It’s a long story. ” He glanced at her, and added, “Suffice it to say that I became caught up in what I felt was a just cause and lost my life as a result.” What could she say to that? Abby stared at him a moment longer, then looked out the window. Her attention was drawn to a dark sedan just pulling up at the corner, and she watched a leather-coated man climb out of the car. He turned and stared at the building, almost as if he were looking straight at her. It was the second goon from her thwarted kidnapping. She started to say something to Damon, but let out a squeak instead when he suddenly pushed her to the floor and covered her with his body. “Hey!” she sputtered, arching her back to dislodge the broad shoulders squashing her face into the wood-planked floor. “Stay still,” he muttered, and hunched over her when the window shattered and fell
on top of them. The breaking glass was accompanied by loud bursts of sound. Pop, pop. Pop. Pop-pop-pop-pop. It was several seconds before Abby realized that the clatter was gunfire. “Oh, ai Od,” she squeaked around the shoulder still pressed into her cheek. “Sumun’s shuding ad us.” “Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” her savior muttered. “I can see you’re quite the detective.” Well, hell. Not that she knew that much about angels or otherworldly beings, but she didn’t think they’d be sarcastic. He’d definitely been human. She squirmed underneath him, then stilled when the barrage stopped. After several minutes, she arched again at the weight on top of her. “Stay there.” He drew back, allowing her to turn over on her back. “I mean it, Abby. You stay put until I say it’s safe.” He waited for her nod, then moved off her and stood. “Get away from the window, ” she hissed. “He could start shooting again. ” “I’m already dead, Abby, ” he reminded her. He pushed the now-tattered curtains out of his way and peered down into the street. “Stay put,” he ordered again, and disappeared. It was only a matter of minutes before he was back. “Well, he won’t be back to bother you. ” Reaching down a big hand, he pulled her to her feet. When momentum carried her up against his hard body, Abby caught her breath. She stared into his dark eyes, a knot of longing unfurling deep in her belly. Act on your instinct, her horoscope had said. Her instinct told her to get a kiss. One kiss was all she wanted. It didn’t matter that he was a ghost. The arms around her were solid and real. His chest moved with deep breaths, rubbing against her breasts with delicious friction. “What did you do?” she asked, a quaver in her voice. She wasn’t sure if it was fear, trepidation or longing. Or a mixture of all three. “I merely explained to him in no uncertain terms that he was to leave you alone. He understood, believe me. He’s actually on his way to check himself into the psychiatric ward at County Hospital.” “But, who was he?” Abby asked, searching his face. “Why was he trying to kill me?” “It was a mistake,” Damon said in a hard tone. “He’d been told you saw something you didn’t.” He touched her cheek with a finely trembling finger. “There were only those two sent after you. You should be safe now. ” His job was over. Abby felt the unspoken words vibrate through the air. She was safe, and he would be leaving. She moved closer into his embrace, sliding her hands up his muscled chest. Her fingers trembled over his tight nipples, lingering in a fleeting caress. “It’s not right,” he said softly, even as his head dipped closer to hers. “Why? What’s not right about love?” She raised up on her toes and looped her arms around his neck. “You don’t love me. You can’t love me.” The last words were whispered into the crook of her neck. “Why? ” she asked again. “Why can’t I love you? ” His mouth nibbled a trail up her neck, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head and inhaling deeply as those soft lips touched the corner of her mouth. “Because I’m your Protector.” He gripped her upper arms and gently pried them
away from his neck. “And you don’t know me.”
Chapter 4 “But I do know you,” Abby insisted. “You’re the one who’s stayed by me. The one who’s made me feel safe. You’re the only place I feel like I belong. ” She swallowed against the emotions boiling to the surface. He would leave before he gave them a chance. “I can’t become involved with you. ” The words were harsh, spoken through clenched teeth. “It’s not permitted.” Abby took his hands and held them tightly. “But … you’ve loved me in my dreams. Why can’t you love me in reality?” He remained silent. She persisted. “Why? Because some archaic rule says so? What if your piece of Heaven is right here with me?” He shook his head, but made no effort to remove his hands from her grasp. “While I’d like nothing better than to stay here with you, sweetheart, it isn’t my decision. ” She fought tears, but couldn’t stop herself from begging him. What she was about to ask him was quite possibly the most important request she’d ever made. “Please, at least stay one night. Give me one night to remember. A real night, not just one in my dreams.” Damon shook his head. This beautiful woman was pleading with him to make love to her as if she would never have another chance. “Abby, don’t. There’s someone special for you. Just be patient, love.” Her eyes closed at the endearment he’d unwittingly used. Brushing the tears off her cheeks, he rubbed his thumbs across her silky skin, wishing for the impossible. Opening her eyes, she stared at him, the sadness once more in the emerald depths. “There is someone special, ” she whispered. “He just doesn’t want me.” Damon knew she spoke of him. And while he was pretty sure he would be punished for what he was about to do, he couldn’t allow her to think he didn’t desire her. He did, with every ounce of feeling he possessed. “I hope I don’t regret this,” he murmured and took her mouth with his. With a soft cry, she clutched him closer, her lips opening under his tender assault. She started to unbutton his shirt, her fingers shaking. He caught her hands in his. “Let me,” he said softly, and swiftly unfastened his shirt and drew it off. Before she could move back into his arms, he untied the sash of her robe. Sliding his hands under the lapels, he pushed the robe off her shoulders. It dropped to the floor and pooled around her feet. He cupped her breasts, lifting their sweet weight. “You have beautiful breasts.” He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. His cock surged when the little buds tightened under his hands. “They’re perfect. Just the right size.” When he squeezed both nipples, she gave an adorable little grunt and arched into his hands. She was so incredibly responsive; his entire body tightened with lust. Bending her over his arm, he sucked one nipple into his mouth. Her moan vibrated against his lips. Her skin was silky smooth on his tongue, the nub hard against the roof of his mouth. She tasted … like summer. Light and breezy and fresh. Damned if his horoscope
hadn’t been right. A taste only made him want more. Her body undulated, her hips pushing into his groin, putting pressure on his hard cock until he thought he’d explode. He dropped to his knees and kissed a trail down her abdomen until he reached the soft curls of her pussy. He flicked his tongue over her clit, then slid it through her slit with one long, slow glide until he reached the opening of her moist channel. Pointing his tongue, he rimmed the small hole, pulling her sweet and tangy taste into his mouth. Her hips surged to meet his mouth, her whimpering moan ringing in his ears. He began to devour her in earnest, licking and sucking at her flesh. Her hands came down to grip his hair and he grimaced at the strength of her fingers. If he were still alive, he’d have been concerned that she’d snatch him bald. But for now, with her spicy flavor on his tongue, he had no worries. He plunged his tongue into her hot channel, twisting and twirling against the sensitive skin. Her moans were almost continuous now, her fingers twisting in his hair to hold his face closer. He pulled his mouth away and raised his head to watch her. Her breasts heaved with every breath, the beaded nipples flushed a dark red. His gaze slid upward. Her head was thrown back, slender neck arched, vibrant hair cascading over her shoulders. God, she was beautiful. There was something about her that drew him, making him want something he knew he’d never have. A normal life. With her. At least for this one night, she was his. He wouldn’t squander a single minute. Quickly rising to his feet, he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down gently, and then shedding the rest of his clo thing. * Abby watched with greedy eyes as Damon descended, covering her. If this was to be her only time with him, she wasn’t about to miss a thing by closing her eyes. Right or wrong, she wanted this moment with him. She needed it. He settled his legs between hers, pushing her thighs further apart. His hot and heavy cock prodded her belly, and she felt her pussy flood in earnest at the idea of holding him tight inside her body. She opened to his invasion, welcoming the hard thrust of his body. His rod was so thick it stretched the sensitive walls of her vagina. She slid her hands down his back, then clasped his tight buttocks to drag him closer. “Faster.” Sliding slowly out of her sheath, he held himself still with just the head of his cock poised at her entrance. With a small grin, he pushed slowly forward, feeding one inch at a time into her needy passage. She narrowed her eyes. Two could play this sensual game. As soon as he was fully inside her, she tightened her muscles, squeezing his hard cock inside the vice of her pussy. He groaned and surged against her, giving her what they both wanted. Too soon her body spiraled out of control, encouraged by his muttered words and caressing fingers. Spurred by the motion of his hips, his cock thrusting faster and faster, she clutched at his back and screamed his name, hearing his answering yell of release. They held each other, his penis still deep within her, their labored breathing mingling in the darkening room. “Please stay with me,” Abby whispered, not wanting him to leave now, more than ever.
“I can’t, love. Dear God, I wish I could.” Damon propped up on one elbow and looked down at her. He frowned at the sight of tears welling in her eyes. “Abby, love, I would stay if it were in my power. I love you. ” She smiled through the tears. “Then you have to stay. He has to let you stay. Because I love you, too. And if you leave me, I’ll die.” He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her. “No, you won’t, because you’re too strong. Not to mention stubborn. ” He kissed her again. “Just … let’s take the time we’re allowed, with no regrets.” Swallowing hard, she pulled him down for another kiss. “I’ll try, ” she whispered. “But I want you to stay. ” Damon rested his face against hers. “I know, love. I feel the same way. But, it should happen soon. ” “How soon?” Her voice trembled. “Soon. ” He sighed. “When I finished my other jobs, I’ve gone back almost immediately. ” They were silent a moment, then she said, “Well, you haven’t gone yet. Would you know if He were going to let you stay?” Damon thought about it for a moment. He rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He looked as he always did. His redhead walked into the bathroom, tying the belt to the robe she’d wrapped around her nakedness. “What is it?” Ignoring her question, he leered at her playfully. “I don’t know why you put that thing on, I’m just going to take it off again. ” He waggled his eyebrows. She stuck out her tongue at him. “Why do you think I put it on? Unwrapping presents is half the fun. ” She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Abby, ” he started, then stiffened in her embrace. He’d just heard his voice called by Michael, the Prince of the Seraphim. The Protector Archangel was his official title. Damon had another one for him. It was ‘Pain In My A…’ Stratham! The Protector Archangel was not amused. Damon closed his eyes, sick at heart. He’d been summoned. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t enough anything. He’d known it would happen, yet somehow he’d managed to push it aside. He’d been able to forget, for a time, that he was no longer alive. No longer human. He was something less, something more. He wanted to rail against the unfairness, wanted to raise his fists to the heavens and rant at God. It would do no good. The Big Guy rarely changed His mind. “Damon, what is it?” Abby grabbed his shoulder and turned his unresisting body toward her. His long lashes swept up to reveal brown eyes dark with sorrow and pain. She cried out in protest and clutched his forearms. “No! Damon, no!” “I have to go, Abby. ” He stepped away from her. “I … don’t have a choice.” * Even as Abby clutched at him, he lost solidity and slipped through her fingers like so much smoke. The pain of it was like a knife to her heart. She dropped to the floor and cried, wrenching sobs that soon had her throat hoarse, her face blotchy and swollen. And still the tears flowed.
Long hours later, Abby picked herself up off the floor. She raised her tear-stained face to the ceiling. “I don’t understand,” she wailed. Fists clenched at her sides, she demanded, “Why can’t he stay with me? What did he do that was so horrible?” She sniffed, not surprised when there was no answer. During all those months in therapy, she’d never go tten answers to the questions she’d shouted up at the sky, so why should it be different now? It was just … nothing had ever been as important as this. Nothing. With a hitching inhalation, she grabbed a tissue from the container on the back of the toilet. She blew her nose loudly, sounding like a honking goose. Another tissue, another good blow, and she shuffled out of the bathroom, feeling old. The skin on her nape prickled and she turned her face to meet menacing eyes. A hard hand clamped around the back of her head and a noxious-smelling handkerchief pressed over her mouth and nose. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to scream and inhaled the sweet, cloying chemical on the rag. She fought against her captor’s grasp, but too soon her senses shut down. She slumped in his arms and, as if from a great distance, heard him say, “Call Mr. Romero and tell him we’ve got ’er.” **** Damon slouched in the chair and watched Michael pace back and forth. The room to which he’d been summoned was called the Solarium, as it afforded a breathtaking and unencumbered view of the Throne Room. Enclosed completely with glass, the Solarium also afforded anyone who wanted to watch a perfect view of a Protector being taken to task for failing in his or her duties. Which was why Damon called it the Ass-Chewing Room. He’d been in it often enough he was surprised he still had an ass to be chewed. “It’s thoughts like those that land you here,” Michael muttered. He folded his arms and scowled. Even his wings seemed to frown, drawing down and over his shoulders. His unusual violet-blue eyes sparked with anger and frustration. “Plus you’ve bedded one you’re supposed to protect. Because of that, I’ve had to call you away from your charge who, I might add, is still not out of danger.” When Damon jumped to his feet, the archangel held up one hand. “She’s fine for the moment. You are, without a doubt, the most irreverent of our Protection staff. Frankly, I don’t know why our Great King hasn’t terminated your contract.” Damon raised one eyebrow. Contract termination was not a good thing. If his contract was voided, he’d be sent to eternal damnation in Lucifer’s realm. No one wanted to end up in Hell. From what he’d heard, Lucifer was single-minded in his desire to create an afterlife that held more souls than Heaven. He especially liked seeing former Protectors there. It was another way he could thumb his nose at the Big Guy. The fact that Michael had even brought this up didn’t bode well for him. An angelic foot tapped against the marble floor. Once, then twice. Three times. Damon shook his head. Three toe-taps was also not a good thing. Oh, yeah. He was in trouble. “You’re absolutely right, Protector Stratham. ” Michael took a seat in the wingback chair that faced Damon. He shifted until he got his wings situated. “Tell me what you were thinking, to be intimate with your charge? To necessitate that I pull you from her side before your job was completed? She was never supposed to see you, let alone
anything else.” “That she saw me was unavoidable.” Damon sat forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “That I fell in love with her was, too.” Michael pursed his lips. “I know, I know. It’s a breach of protocol.” Damon stood and paced to the wall closest to the Throne Room. “How many people have I been charged with protecting over the last four hundred years?” he asked quietly, watching the bustle of activity outside of the Solarium. It made the room he was in seem all that more quiet. “I don’t have the exact number, but offhand I’d say about fifty or so.” Michael’s voice was quiet as well. “At least fifty. ” He walked back to where the archangel sat. Standing beside his chair, he pleaded his case. “And this is the first time—the first!—that I’ve done anything like this. But, Michael, I couldn’t do anything but love her.” “You felt sorry for her because she’s crippled.” Damon clenched his jaw. “She’s not crippled,” he said, his voice fierce. “She’s beautiful and funny and bright. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. If she had been mine during my lifetime… Well, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation now. ” He strode back to the glass wall. Clasping his hands behind his back, he squinted against the brightness of the Son. “Terminate my contract, if that’s what you want. If that’s what He wants.” The thought of never being with Abby again seared through him like a hot poker. He’d only known her a few months, but he’d miss her forever. In a low voice, his heart in every word, he added, “To love, and be loved, is worth it.”
Chapter 5 Abby came awake slowly. She moaned at the pain in her head, licking her dry lips, feeling as though her mouth were stuffed with cotton. “She’s coming to.” Before she could raise her head, a hand fisted in her hair and raised it for her. Through bleary eyes, the swarthy face of a man swam into her vision. His eyes were so dark they were almost black; his blotched and fat-rimmed face had the look of a man who lived well and lived hard. It was the face of a man who got what he wanted, when he wanted it. She couldn’t place who he was, but there was something familiar about him. “Well, young lady, you’ve caused me some trouble.” He tightened his grip until she winced, then removed his hand from her hair. The signet ring on his pinky snagged and pulled a few strands loose. Abby licked her lips again. God, her mouth felt like a desert. “Could I have some water, please?” Pain in her arms started to make itself known. Flexing her shoulders, she realized she was tied to a chair. Her wrists were bound behind the chair, her ankles to the legs. Glancing down, she saw that she was still clothed in her robe. With the way the neckline gaped open and her legs spread around the chair legs, she was close to being nude. She drew in a sharp breath and fought back panic. If she was going to get out of this, she had to stay calm. And with her Protector gone … it was up to her. The man jerked his head, and she heard glass clink against glass and the sound of liquid being poured. From behind her a hand extended the glass, and the man took it. He held it to her lips and allowed a few sips. “You got lucky four months ago, you know, ” he went on conversationally. He acted as if she were an honored guest instead of what she really was: his prisoner. “If you had cooperated with Pitbull, you wouldn’t be tied to a chair right now. ” “Mr. Romero, you want me to stay? ” The husky voice came from behind her. “No, I think I can handle our … guest by myself.” Abby stared at the man standing before her, nausea churning in her gut. This was Carl Romero, a wealthy and very influential businessman. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been sitting in the back of a limousine waiting to ‘chat’ with her. But she knew she’d seen him somewhere before that day in the limo… Oh, God. She’d been walking home from work and glanced down an alley as she’d crossed the street. A man had been holding a woman against the wall, one hand at her throat, the other at her waist. She’d thought at the time that it was a hooker and her john, and she’d looked away quickly. It had been Romero. Why would he care if some nobody had seen him with a prostitute? Romero squatted in front of Abby. Putting his hands on her knees, he slid them up until his fingers rested high up on her thighs. Almost, but not quite, touching her pussy. With her ankles tied to the chair legs, she couldn’t close her legs against his unwelcome touch.
The scent of his overpowering cologne almost made her gag. She closed her mouth to keep the taste off her tongue. “If only you hadn’t seen me with Violet,” he mused. “The lovely, very dead Violet.” He cocked his head to one side, studying her as if she were a bug pinned to a matboard. He licked his thick lips. “You know what happened to Pitbull, in the hospital, don’t you? ” “No.” What else was she supposed to say? That her invisible Protector had snapped the man’s neck when he’d tried to suffocate her? And she sure as hell couldn’t let him see that she’d remembered where she’d first seen him. Maybe if he thought she really hadn’t seen anything, even though he’d said the woman was dead, he’d let her go. “Mmm.” He reached out and slowly untied the sash to her robe. “You sure you don’t want to tell me what happened to my man? ” He’d never believe the truth. “I told you, I don’t know what happened. I didn’t see anything. ” She took a deep, calming breath, then regretted it when his eyes fastened on her chest. “We’ll see.” He pushed her robe off her shoulders, baring her flesh. His big hands palmed her breasts, then fingers pinched her nipples. Hard. She sucked in a breath but otherwise didn’t make a sound. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “You like it rough, do you? ” His fingers pulled and pinched until she couldn’t hold back a moan of pain. “Stop it!” she cried out. “I told you. I don’t know anything.” “Well, after I’ve fucked you a few times, you’ll be ready to tell me anything. ” He gave her a slow smile and rubbed his tongue along his bottom lip. She was sure he thought he looked sexy; to her, he looked like a snake. “After I let all of my men have you, you’ll beg me for death. ” He leaned closer and she turned her face away, breathing through her nose. Man-ohman, he must have taken a bath in whatever God-awful cologne he was wearing. Her pulse racing, she tried to formulate a plan of escape. The first thing: get out of these ropes. The second thing… Kick this bastard in the balls hard enough to make them pop through his nostrils. He pressed a wet kiss to her collarbone and she stifled a shiver of revulsion. God help her. If she didn’t do something soon, this monster was going to rape her as a prelude to gang-rape. Where was Damon? Where was her Protector when she needed him? **** “I wouldn’t change a thing.” When Michael didn’t respond to his muttered comment, Damon turned around. The archangel stood beside the chair, his body straight and taut, his eyes closed. Damon had seen Michael do this before: he was listening to a human in trouble. “You have to go back to Abby. Now. ” Those purple eyes snapped open and Michael strode toward the door. “Take Gerrard with you. ” Damon inhaled sharply. Jack Gerrard was unique among the Protectors: he was a vampire. If the Protector Archangel wanted him to take Gerrard, Abby was in deep shit. Michael turned to look at him as he opened the door, one eyebrow raised. “Sorry, ” Damon muttered. Of all the bad habits he’d had in his lifetime, cursing was
one thing he couldn’t seem to break. Even standing near the presence of God. “Your phrasing isn’t too far off, Stratham, ” Michael said. His face was hard, his eyes dark with worry. “Get Gerrard and get out of here. Abby needs you. ” **** Abby drew in a sobbing breath. Bent over a padded bench, her wrists were shackled to large rings in the floor. Her backside was hot from the wooden paddle the sadistic bastard was wielding with maniacal glee. She heard the swish of air and braced herself for yet another whack. The hard wood connected with her enflamed flesh and she cried out. The blow fired along the nerve endings, sending her entire body into a shudder. “What a lovely shade of red.” Romero rubbed his hand over her abused bottom. She bit her lip against the sting of pain. When he pressed his fingers deeply into the muscle, she screamed. “That’s what I like to hear.” Walking around her, he pulled on her hair, lifting her head. “Almost as much as I like hearing a bitch choking on my cock.” He rubbed his groin over her face, pushing his cloth-covered dick against her cheek. Pulling back slightly, he unbuckled his belt and popped the button of his slacks with one hand, then slid down the zipper. The sound rasped loudly in the room, competing with her thundering heartbeat. She closed her eyes at the sight of his large penis, the head dripping with pre-cum. Beating the crap out of her had turned the bastard on. “You pleasure me with your hot little mouth, and maybe I’ll let you live. Try to bite me, and you’ll regret it.” Think, Abby. Think. “Um, wouldn’t it be better if I were on my knees?” He jerked on her hair, yanking her head further back until she thought he’d break her neck. “What do you mean? ” he demanded. Careful, Abs. This may be your only chance. “I could take you deeper.” She watched him as he considered her words. If luck was on her side, he’d be thinking with his little head instead of the one on his neck. His eyes narrowed. This would make or break the deal. “I don’t want … please, I just don’t want you to hurt me any more.” She didn’t have to fake the tears in her eyes. She was in pain and scared out of her mind. Defenseless. Alone. He let go of her so suddenly that her chin bumped against the bench. The shackles drew tight, then clinked as he unfastened them. “On your knees, bitch. ” Abby stood carefully, biting her lip against the pain that radiated from her bruised buttocks. She edged around the bench and approached him, eyes downcast, trying to appear cowed. It didn’t take much effort. She was terrified. He stood with his hands on his hips, his cock pointing toward her from between the flaps of his fly. When she was close enough, she spun into a modified roundhouse kick and shoved her heel into his genitals with all her strength. It wasn’t as good a kick as she could’ve delivered before the accident but, as he dropped to the floor, his shout of pain sounding like a Grammy award-winning song to her, it would do.
He tried to rise and, before he could shout again, she grabbed up the heavy lamp from the table next to the bench and crashed it over his skull. He dropped like a tranquilized rhino. Turning, she ran as fast as her imperfect legs would allow. **** Damon stood beside Jack Gerrard and surveyed the dozen or so men patrolling the grounds of the sprawling mansion. He’d wanted to teleport directly to the room where Abby was, but Jack had convinced him they needed to take out the guards first. For Abby’s safety. That was the only thing that kept him standing where he was instead of charging in with fists flying. They had to make sure that none of the guards could go to Romero’s defense and in the process put Abby in harm’s way. If it weren’t for that, Romero would already be a dead man. “I’ll take the south entrance,” Gerrard said, his words carried on a slight lisp. Caught by the unusual sound of his speech, Damon glanced at the vampire and drew in a sharp breath. The other man’s eyes were silver with the light of battle. Long canines protruded over his bottom lip and his facial bones had hardened, giving him an alien, primordial appearance. Damon blew out a breath, damned glad Gerrard was on his side. In a flash, the vampire was on the first guard. A silent, quick blow to the back of the neck felled the man, rendering him unconscious. Damon stayed still for a moment, admiring Gerrard’s stealthy skill. Then he looked toward the north entrance where two guards stood talking. It was time to go to work. **** Abby raced through the living room. Hearing the sound of running feet behind her, she ducked behind a curtain. She held her breath as they ran past. Peeking around the edge, she heaved a sigh and looked out to make sure no one else was coming. She stepped from behind the curtain and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Damn, even though this was her first experience at being kidnapped, she was already tired of running for her life while she was butt-naked. She looked at the brocade curtain. If it worked for Scarlett, it would work for her. She jerked on the curtain and swore when it held fast. She yanked again. Nothing. With a grunt, she jumped up and grabbed the material and held on, bouncing a little. “Damn it!” She dropped to the floor. Hearing more footsteps, she slid behind the curtain again. “Well?” It was Romero. He was breathing heavily. And still clutching his balls, she hoped. “No sign of her, sir. But we may have another problem. ” There was silence. Romero demanded, “Well? What is it?” “Stiller, Borst, and Montano are radio silent.” “What the hell…!” Another pause, then, “Well, why are you still standing here? Get out there and find out what’s going on. ” “Yes, sir.”
One set of footsteps walked briskly away. Abby stayed behind the curtain, breathing shallowly. There was a creak, then a deep sigh. God, it sounded like the bastard had made himself comfortable. She couldn’t stay behind the curtain mooning anyone who walked by on the outside. It wouldn’t take long for the remaining guards to spot her with her ass hanging out for everyone to see. Easing out from around the curtain, she slowly crept forward. One thing about being naked, you didn’t have to worry about your clothes rubbing together and making noise. With him talking to himself, she didn’t have to worry too much anyway. “Damned bitch, ” he growled. “Should’ve whacked her when I had the chance.” Somehow, as she picked up an antique vase from the sofa table, she thought it was poetic justice that she was going to whack him over the head again. Bastard. He deserved a lot worse. She really didn’t like being called a bitch. She brought the vase down, hard. This time he went over without a sound and fell to the floor with a solid thud. She came around the couch and jabbed him with her toe, just to be sure. When he didn’t move, she heaved him over onto his back and unbuttoned his shirt. By the time she got him rolled back over onto his stomach she was breathing heavily and sweating. She pulled his shirt off, turning the sleeves inside out in the process. With a muttered curse, she pushed them back through, then slid the shirt on. She grimaced and made herself button the shirt. She’d rather have knocked out one of the other men, but Romero would have to do. Beggars couldn’t afford to be choosy, especially when they were naked.
Chapter 6 Damon walked into the foyer, all senses on alert. Gerrard stopped beside him, eyes closed, head tilted to one side. Damon tried to ignore the smear of blood on one corner of the vampire’s mouth. “I’ve got two heartbeats up ahead. One is slow and heavy, the other…” Gerrard opened his eyes and pointed at Abby as she rounded the corner. “The other appears to be attached to her.” Abby skidded to a halt, her eyes round, her chest heaving. “D-Damon? ” Damon ran to her and jerked her into his arms. She let out a shuddering sob and burrowed into his embrace, her arms wound tightly around his waist. “Are you all right?” he asked, pressing kisses to the top of her head. When she didn’t respond, he grabbed her shoulders and held her at arms’ length. “Abby! Are you all right?” She gave a little hiccup and nodded. “I’m all right. He didn’t … you know. ” “He didn’t rape you. ” He looked her over, eyes narrowing at the sight of the man's shirt she wore. “But he had you naked.” She nodded again and nestled against him. “He … spanked me.” Damon’s hands slid under the shirt to cup her buttocks and she flinched. He quickly moved his hands to her waist. Leaning over her protectively, he vowed, “He’ll pay for hurting you, dearling.” He pressed a kiss at the crook of her neck. His voice deep and gravelly, he added, “And I promise I’ll kiss it and make it better.” “As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, ” Gerrard interrupted, his voice deep and very dry, “someone’s coming. ” Within a few seconds, a shirtless Romero came around the corner, his mouth drawn tight, gun in hand. When he saw Abby, his eyes narrowed and the gun swept up. “Bitch! ” he spat, and pulled the trigger. Without thinking, Damon spun Abby behind him. Grunting when the bullet pierced his shoulder, he was surprised at the white- hot pain that spread from the site. He’d been shot at before, but had never felt pain from the bullets. Looking down, he raised his eyebrows at the sight of blood spreading over the material of his shirt. Hearing Romero scream, Damon pushed the unusua l aspect of the pain away. He’d have to deal with that later. Right now, he had to protect Abby. He looked up to see Gerrard with the businessman bent over one arm. One of the vampire’s hands held the back of Romero’s head, tilting it so that his neck was arched. Gerrard glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were molten silver, his fangs elongated. “I will take care of this bâtard. You get your woman to safety. ” He glanced at Damon’s shoulder, surprise showing in his gaze. “It appears you’ve been given anothe r chance.” Damon concentrated, willing a portal to open so he could teleport Abby to her apartment. When nothing happened, he looked at Gerrard. “I think, mon ami, you’ll need to do things the human way from now on. ” The vampire grinned ferociously down at Romero, who was whimpering. “While I will continue to do things my way.” He fit his mouth over Romero’s throat. “Let’s go.” Damon turned Abby and guided her out of the room, the sound of
Romero’s gurgling groans fading the further they moved away. Once they got outside, he stopped, unsure of what to do. He needed to get Abby home. He needed to get a closer look at his shoulder. Gerrard seemed to think that the wound meant he was human; he wasn’t so sure. He hardly dared to hope. “What is it?” Abby asked. Her soft voice reflected her exhaustion. He tightened his arm around her shoulder. Giving an embarrassed laugh, he said, “I don’t seem to be able to teleport. I haven’t the faintest idea how to get back to your place.” “What do you mean, you can’t…” When she saw the blood on his shoulder, Abby gasped. Wanting to touch him, but afraid of hurting him further, she stood there with her hand hovering in the air between them. “You’re bleeding.” She stared at his shoulder, where blood glistened against the material of his shirt. How could he be bleeding? He had withstood bullets before without getting hurt. “Yes, catching a bullet in one’s shoulder tends to make one bleed.” Abby grimaced and resisted the urge to poke at his wound. “You know, this habit of yours of being sarcastic when you’re stressed—or hurt—is not a pleasant one. You should rethink how you react to extraordinary circumstances.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. Tried to, anyway. All she really wanted to do was wrap him up in comfort and caring arms and take care of him. But she needed to draw the line, now. He wasn’t going to talk to her like that and get away with it. He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry, love,” he murmured. Leaning over, he kissed her on the corner of her mouth, making her bare toes curl against the concrete of the portico. “I … I’m just not sure what this means.” “It means,” came a deep voice from behind them, “that you are now human. Or, more accurately, human once more.” Abby turned to face this new speaker, aware that Damon had turned, too. “Michael.” Damon walked forward until only a few feet separated him from the other man. Abby blinked. No, not a man. An angel. The other being stood tall, soaring over Damon, with wings that extended a full three feet above his head. While she was drawn to the purple tint to his blue eyes, made even more startling by the darkness of his hair, her eyes kept straying to the wings. They appeared to be made of feathers, glistening white with streaks of gold around the edges. As she watched, he stretched them out slightly, then settled them behind his back once more. “Our Great King has determined that you have fulfilled the terms of your contract, Stratham. If you so choose, you may remain in this human form and live out the remainder of your life here. When you die, your place in Heaven is assured. Or…” he paused. One brow raised and his head tilted to one side. “You may assume your place in Heaven now. The choice is yours.” Without hesitation, Damon responded, “I choose Abby. ” Abby drew in a sharp breath. Was he saying what she hoped he was saying? The angel nodded and looked at Abby. “Before I teleport you, I have something for you, Abby. ” A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Call it a horoscope, if you wish. ”
He walked closer and put one large hand on her shoulder. His touch was so light that she barely felt it. “One-to-one relationships are the most wonderful thing on Earth. Be prepared for anything and everything. And know that love redeems all.” He touched a hand to Damon’s shoulder and, between one blink and the next, she and Damon stood side by side in her bedroom. Damon flexed his shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt any more.” Unbuttoning his shirt, he drew it off and looked down. He rubbed his fingers over flesh that was healed, no evidence of the wound marring his skin. He laughed and pulled her into his arms. His exuberance was contagious, and she giggled as he swung her around in a circle. She pursed her lips. “Um, Damon? ” Damon carefully laid her on the bed, propping himself over her. “Don’t you understand, Abby? God has given me back my life, dearling. He’s given me to you. ” One hand clapped over her mouth, Abby hardly dared to breathe. When he nodded, the grin in place that had so attracted her at the beginning, she threw her arms around him. “You can stay? You can stay!” “I can stay, love. You’re my redemption. ” He kissed her, a hard smack of friend to friend, which quickly changed to that of a lover. Abby smiled against his lips. There would be all sorts of difficulties to overcome with a man who had spent time hanging out with angels, but she was confident they’d find a way to make it work. He claimed she was his redemption, but he was hers. They were each other’s. Abby knew they would prove it again and again in the years to come, God willing. Apparently He was. The End About the Author: Sherrill Quinn grew up in Northeast Ohio. In 2000, no longer able to deal with the excitement of winter’s snow and ice, she moved to Southern Arizona where she now dodges cacti and rattlesnakes. (Okay, she’s seen exactly two. Snakes, that is.) After spending 20 years building a career in Human Resources, she figured out that wasn’t what she wanted to be when she grew up. She’s been writing for fun since she was twelve years old. She took what up until that point had been a hobby and turned it into a serious career as a writer of erotic romances, even though her mother wishes she wrote children’s books. You can read more about her on her website at www.sherrillquinn.com.
Meet LSB Authors At Silver Net, Aka The House Of Sin Http://Lsbooks.NET We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com for other exciting erotic romances. Featured Series: The Zodiac Series: 12 books, 24 stories and authors Two hot stories for each sign, 12 signs The Raven Series by Rhiannon Neeley Seven books about the brooding Raven family of vampire hunters The Coven of the Wolf by Rae Morgan Benevolent lusty witches keep evil forces at bay The Max Series by JB Skully Meet Max, her not-absent dead husband, sexy detective Witt, his mother… And many, many more!
