Touched by Moonlight

by Bonnie Vanak

  “Some choice,” someone muttered.

  My chest felt hollow. Grayson cherished me and his betas adored me. But it was clear I was not wanted, simply because I was Fionn Fae.

  The enemy. Yeah, I knew when I wasn’t wanted. They were mostly wolves here, and the Fae were disliked.

  I waved a hand. “Okay everyone, sorry about that. I’ll be on my way tomorrow. No worries. Thanks for the good times while they lasted.”

  Turning to leave before emotion took over, I almost made it to the door when a small hand tugged at my shirt.

  Carmen. “But you have to stay, Sienna! We like you. We want you here.”

  Maybe she did.

  I looked around. Some of the pack had half-transformed soon as Grayson announced I was a Fionn Fae. I needed little reminder of what most of these people were.

  Wolves.

  I hated disappointing a child, but I refused to lie, either. I hugged Carmen. “Perhaps a visit in the future, honey.”

  As she retreated over to her guardian, I felt the room’s mood change to an undercurrent of something deadly. They knew what I was and did not like it. Low growls filled the air, the growls of a pack sensing an intruder in their presence.

  These were wolves. They were dangerous.

  Predators.

  Grayson had stated as much. He was ruthless in pursuing what he wanted, and he wanted me.

  But he could not have me and have his pack as well, for they would not accept me.

  Self-preservation rose up, the same kind that saved my ass all these years. I was Fionn Fae, but determined never to use the magick that had destroyed my family. These wolves had the advantage.

  If I wasn’t careful Grayson and his kind could truly hurt me.

  If they truly wanted to.

  Chapter 21

  When morning dawned, I left the Timber Wolf pack.

  I didn’t want to leave them. Not Grayson with his bold, arrogant authority. Or Stephan with his frisky, playful seduction turning all growling and love bites.

  Or tormented, sensual Nicolas, who seldom trusted Fae and had begun to grow closer to me.

  But the others did not want me.

  Grayson and his betas accepted me, although I was Fionn and powerful. They needed my magick and they respected me. For the first time since leaving my colony, someone truly needed me.

  I was finished with my people. Anyone with a drop of Fae blood in their veins was not worthy of my time, or my emotions.

  But Grayson and his pack were shifters and shifters didn’t like Fionn. I would never gain any acceptance in his pack.

  Dawn broke over the mountains, and before the leaden light burst into rose and lavender, Nicolas drove me back to my apartment on his motorcycle. I didn’t stay for breakfast. I was afraid to see Grayson and melt into his arms again. He was out prowling the grounds somewhere.

  Leaving was for the best.

  When he dropped me off in front of my apartment, he left the motor running, but pulled off his black helmet. “Let me walk you upstairs.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want nosey neighbors talking. Thanks, Nick.”

  Nicolas studied me with the same intensity displayed in our first session in the basement. “Are you certain about this, Sienna? Is this what you truly want?”

  “Sure.” The words rang hollow. I could barely convince myself. “It’s for the best, Nick.”

  “Right.” He kissed my mouth, a hurried brush of his lips, as if he worried a deeper kiss would make him linger. “Good-bye. Thanks for saving Carmen. I appreciate it, even if no one else seems to.”

  I walked away, my stomach in knots, my heart aching. Being with these guys had been like opening a door and peeking through, but knowing the door had to be shut again.

  Firmly.

  One-night stands were never my specialty. But they were necessary these days. Survival depended upon flexibility, and never staying in the same place longer than three months. I couldn’t afford to get comfortable with Nick, Stephan and Grayson.

  And that hurt, a visceral ache almost as bad as when I’d left my real family.

  My throat went dry and I had to force myself to turn and walk away, when every fiber of being cried out to jump back onto the bike and return with him.

  To what? People who rejected me? Who judged me on the basis of being Fae? No matter what I did, it would never be good enough to convince them I intended no harm.

  Maybe it was better to be feared, and left alone, then loved and eventually broken by betrayal.

  At the top of the stairs, I gripped the handrail, fighting for control of my emotions. “I’ll miss you,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

  He roared off on his bike. Don’t look back. Don’t.

  But of course I did, long enough to see his taillight flash as he rounded a corner. And then he was gone.

  For the first time since I’d lost my family and my beloved best friend, I felt a glimmer of hope I could have a normal life. Belong somewhere, to someone. Visions of ordinary flitted through my head like video game scenes. A warm fire, a comfortable sofa and people gathered in front of it as I walked in the door. Joy in the voices who greeted me. They wanted me there. Well, Grayson and his betas did. And Carmen.

  Laughter tore from my throat, sounding suspiciously like sobs. Me, belong? I was the nomad, the woman on the run who didn’t dare stay in one place for long. I’d already worn out my welcome in Cheyenne and Crossroads on Friday. And if not for the money earned at the day job, I’d have bolted weeks ago.

  And yet, for a slim moment, I had hope I could be normal. Accepted. Even appreciated.

  Hope was a dangerous thing. Once nurtured, it could flourish, push aside practical considerations like survival. Yet for the short time I’d stayed at Grayson’s pack, I felt that fleeting emotion.

  Until his pack showed me I was clearly never going to be accepted.

  And the sooner I accepted that, the safer I would be. For it was hope that my father and my people would accept me that had me staying in the colony and ignoring the warning signs of jealousy and hatred.

  I was different, powerful and no one wanted to look after my best interests.

  I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  Chapter 22

  GRAYSON

  Sienna was gone. I had to get her back, somehow.

  But that was going to be damn difficult with my pack growling at her and looking at her like fresh meat.

  Their reaction didn’t surprise me, but I had hoped for something different. Acceptance. Willingness to at least tolerate her until they got to know the sweet, sassy Fae she was. So unlike the destructive ones they’d either heard about or experienced.

  No such luck.

  For now, I had to keep an eye on her because Kallan was still out there and he could destroy her, my sweet Sienna who wanted to use her power only for good. At work, she would be safe. I’d hired a mercenary to watch over her.

  Somehow, I had to convince my people Sienna would not harm them.

  When they reacted like that, something inside me died as well. I saw her face and her fear, quickly shuttered by that blank expression she wears to hide her real emotions.

  Inside, I felt resignation. My people were not going to accept a Fionn Fae.

  And that was the biggest blow of all – because if they refused to accept her, what would they do if they discovered the truth?

  Best to keep it hidden, keep them thinking all was well.

  All was fine.

  I am wolf. I am alpha and I will control the pack.

  And fight to keep them safe.

  Even when my heart is breaking inside.

  Chapter 23

  The inside of my apartment seemed cold and dreary when I finally unlocked the front door. No signs that Kallan had been here, no residual energy or runes.

  The Fae at Crossroads Cass had kicked out had informed on me. Clever as I had been, I wasn’t clever enough. I’d overstayed my welcome.

  By the e
nd of tomorrow, I’d hand in my resignation and leave, hitting the road once more to erase my past. Too risky to remain at my job, in case Kallan sent any more spies after me.

  At least for today I could return to my normal, boring life and normal, boring work.

  Williams Marketing had attracted me for both the money for the entry-level job I sought, and the anonymity of working for a large company.

  Two hours after showering and dressing, I arrived at work.

  The building housing Williams Marketing in downtown Cheyenne was one of four set around a circular pool of water where four fountains constantly splashed into the water. Wrought iron benches and tables sat beneath shady trees. At lunchtime during the summer, those spaces were filled with workers smoking or eating.

  The elevators opened with a quiet swish onto a lobby with elegant brass chandeliers, gleaming black and gold marble walls and floors.

  As I punched the time clock, I felt a twinge of regret. Once I could have worked at a high profile company like this as a mid-level manager. Working my way to the top, using my skillset to advance my career instead of life in the cube farm. The BMW and Lexus vehicles in the parking lot gleamed with the tale of managers who were going places, while my sad little sedan had clearly seen better days. The movers and shakers of Williams Marketing could drive home at day’s end, secure in their world, knowing their biggest problem was what gourmet meal to plan for the weekend. Or decide on wine pairings.

  Not how to evade beings that wanted to kill them.

  These humans had little idea of the hidden dangers in the paranormal world. Maybe if they knew, they’d bolt from their comfortable leather chairs and Macs screaming, instead of sipping expensive Starbucks lattes and doling out orders like medieval kings.

  I lapsed into a daydream where I’d strut into work in Jimmy Choos wearing a Calvin Klein suit, talking on my company-issued phone as I cooed to Grayson and admitted how much I missed him.

  Not dragging my sorry self, alone again, to my fifth floor cube in polyester and spandex navy pants and a blue floral flutter sleeve blouse I’d found at a garage sale, complete with black flats.

  But the secondhand clothing was essential. Even washed, it smelled like the former owners to shapeshifters and Fae. While out in public, I always wore secondhand clothing, muting my own scent through a daily application of lotion, courtesy of the same witch who provided me with the leather magick gloves.

  Williams Marketing was currently the only tenant occupying building. Shortly after I was hired, the building’s owner raised the rent on the other tenants, so I heard.

  The firm took up the entire third and fourth floors. Banks of tall cubicles set squarely in the second floor took up the center, and afforded the rank and file a modicum of privacy. Offices of junior executives, data analysts and computer programmers ringed the floor, with windows that overlooked downtown Cheyenne. Posters of the company’s past successful campaigns adorned tasteful gray and powder blue walls. It was a slick, luxurious office hinting of money.

  When I fled my colony in the dark night, I had only the clothes on my back and a little cash, just enough for a bus ticket west. I settled for jobs in large cities where I could blend in, and didn’t need a blizzard of references to satisfy my human employers.

  They believed the fake ones I provided, and the jobs I took were mainly entry level. But here, my boss had raised my salary after only a month after I provided him with an idea that nailed a multi-million dollar account.

  Guess he didn’t want to lose me.

  The office typically bustled with activity, but today my floor was quiet, probably because many of the junior execs and managers were still at the retreat at the CEO’s private ranch.

  Part of my guise of blending in as a human meant acting as a human, not a Fae on the run. I kept a big jar of M&M candies at my desk, and invited anyone to partake in them. It made others friendly, see me as human, at least I hoped.

  I liked the candy. It fed my high-speed metabolism. To add further to the guise of being human, I ate only the red and blue M&M’s. Once someone asked why only those colors and I told them, “Because those are the colors of the flag.”

  They seemed to believe me.

  After powering up my computer, I sorted out the stack of marketing data to input into spreadsheets. The director, a micromanaging anal retentive, liked to analyze minutia. My cube was powder gray, with only two computer monitors and a keyboard decorating it.

  Others had adorned their work spaces with photos, stuffed animals, bobble heads, you name it. Lavender, a young trippy hippie type who worked two cubes down from me, had a gorgeous purple orchid on her desk. The orchid was the largest I’d seen, and I’d seen plenty in my previous life. She’d named it Maurice. Even put a name card before it with Maurice etched in big purple letters.

  Her cube was empty this morning, typical for Lavender. Usually she graced us with her presence around ten o’clock, if she felt like it. Others in the company got written up if they were five minutes late.

  Not Lavender.

  She was probably screwing one of the bosses.

  Sunshine filtered through windows directly across from me. Another reason I’d chosen this company – the work space offered so much natural light. I might pretend to be human, but my real self craved the outdoors and a connection to the earth and sky.

  A bottle of water in front of me, I started to work. My mind wandered as I typed. The work was tedious, and I strained to see the screen, something that usually never bothered me.

  Didn’t matter. Soon enough, I’d be gone.

  “Hey bright eyes, how was your time off? Do anything special?”

  Not bothering to glance up, I shrugged. Usually I had nothing special to report, but this was different.

  Oh nothing special. I had sex with three different men, all of them hot enough to burn down the building. Didn’t get my laundry done, though, or the manicure I promised myself.

  “That good, huh?” Kara slid into my space and onto my desk as I worked. Auburn red hair spilled over her shoulders. Today she wore basic black, with silver bangles that jingled as she moved. Black hose covered her legs and she wore black suede boots with killer heels.

  “You need to have a bootiful weekend, Sienna. With lots of booty.”

  Grinning, I kept typing. Kara Baylor was a friendly twenty-something from Phoenix who’d moved to Cheyenne. She’d started three weeks ago in entry level data processing and we’d become instant work buddies. I liked Kara. She was direct, honest and funny, in addition to being a truly nice human being.

  “I have to get these reports on the new equipment finished or Randall will get on my case,” I told her. “Let’s catch up later.”

  “I have a stack of those as well. Stop sweating. Who cares about ole Randall’s reports?”

  “My paycheck does.”

  Kara shrugged. “I don’t sweat over the little things, like my take home and the size of Randy’s equipment.”

  I laughed. One reason Kara and I grew closer than I allowed stemmed from her disregard for management. They didn’t quite know what to make of her. They never wrote her up for disrespect. Or breaking hard line company rules, such as never eating at your desk. Kara kept boxes of energy bars stacked on her desk like dominos.

  She cocked her head at me. “You look different. Glowing.”

  Glowing? Aw damn. I checked. Nope. Hands normal. Then I flushed, realizing she meant my face.

  “You had sex.” Nodding now, she had this silly grin plastered on her face.

  “No…” then I shrugged again. Silly to deny it.

  “Was he good?” She leaned forward, green gaze rapt with attention. “Good in bed.”

  The facial flush deepened. “Yep.” I turned back to the computer screen, feeling my face on fire now.

  “Details, details. I need to live vicariously through you.” A dramatic sigh. “My love life is drier than the Sahara.”

  “Check my Instagram.” I added in another fiel
d. Randall wanted a day by day income comparison instead of the usual monthly. Assphat.

  “You’re not on Instagram. Or any other social media.” She turned and muttered something that sounded like “Thank the goddess.”

  Odd. I glanced up. “What did you say?”

  “Thanks for nothing. I’m nosey. So, what’s he like naked? Smooth chest or hairy? Big heavy equipment or small and dainty?”

  Blinking, I turned back to the spreadsheet on the monitor. “Just the right amount. And why are you interested in his penis size, which, I will say, is quite impressive.”

  “Of course,” she muttered again. “It comes with the territory.”

  Now she made no sense. But an odd, slightly foul smell distracted me from the discussion of Grayson’s male parts. I stopped typing, craning my neck. “Is she smoking something illegal in her cube?”

  “Lavender?” Kara’s nose wrinkled. “Doubt it. Must be her new perfume. She’s testing a different one each day. I think she forgets to shower.”

  The smell grew stronger, pungent with earth tones, but dark and nasty ones, as if our hippy coworker grew fungus at her desk. “It smells like a mushroom farm.”

  Kara looked around. Several employees had taken the rest of the week off. In that case, I was in trouble because Randall would breathe down my neck for those reports. Not that he’d get me help.

  “Her orchid keeps growing. It’s mutant.” I leaned back and stretched. “Maybe she’s feeding it Randy’s stash of Viagra.”

  Kara didn’t bray her usual laughter. Instead, her eyebrows knit together. “There’s something not quite right about that plant.”

  I agreed that it was growing fast, but perhaps the light…

  “None of my business. As long as she doesn’t bother me. I have work, by the way.” I pointed at my screen. Work I needed to finish if I was going to quit, because I didn’t trust Randall. He might find a way to dock me for the days off I had just taken.

  She vanished behind her cubicle. I spent the next hour combing through the printed data Randall had given me. Around 9:30 a.m. I heard a humming and shuffle of feet.