by Amy Sumida
“Hastings Lane? Why does that sound familiar?” Vaughn asked.
“Because it’s the address of the bar we were at last night,” Seth pointed out.
The bar with the sexy female proprietor, Ronan thought, without really knowing why. The woman was as plain as could be in the looks department. There was nothing particularly remarkable about her brown hair and eyes, and her body had been hidden behind practical clothes. But there was no denying he had felt an instant spark of attraction to the woman the moment he laid eyes on her. He had spent the better part of the night feeling guilty over his continued hardness, knowing for the first time in years, it hadn’t been the result of the two men sleeping so close. The time for sharing their bed with others had long passed. So why was he finding himself so enamoured with some strange woman he had met for all of two minutes? It didn’t make sense.
It was also the reason why he had ushered them all out of the bar last night so quickly. He hadn’t wanted to give away his thoughts by remaining in her presence any longer. Although, he had his suspicions regarding his partners anyway. He could have sworn he had seen lust shining in Seth’s eyes the evening before, as well as suppressed desire in Vaughn’s. None of them had said anything about it before going to bed, and although they had engaged in their usual nightly play, he couldn’t help feeling like they had all been holding back a little.
“It’s suspicious,” Vaughn stated, posture going on alert.
Seth patted him on the back, heading into the bathroom, “It’s a coincidence,” he corrected.
Vaughn just grunted, scowling at the address on the phone screen, “Coincidences are fucking suspicious.”
“You think everything is fucking something or other,” Seth retorted, his voice garbled from the toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“And I’m always right,” Vaughn shouted back and Seth merely flipped him off to rinse his mouth, “Well I am, aren’t I?” his grumpy lover demanded.
Ronan shook his head. The two men were always bickering about something. Not that it concerned him. After all, it was all foreplay, “I’m not enabling you two.”
It had been a big adjustment, not only to them but to their panthers when Seth had shown up ten years ago. His arrival had challenged them in every way possible. For starters, his panther was a big, dominant bastard and he knew Vaughn’s cat had struggled with having another alpha in their shadow – what they referred to their little feline group. In the wild, male black jaguars were not known for forming social groups and they would usually carve out a large territory for themselves. They would only come together to mate and breed with a female. Male panthers were pretty much all alphas – making a group hierarchy a little redundant. It had never been a problem for Vaughn or himself over the generations because his own beast had no desire to challenge Vaughn’s in any way. Seth’s, on the other hand, he was all about pushing boundaries – the biggest being their feelings for each other. And that was something Ronan would be forever grateful for.
He had been harbouring feelings for Vaughn pretty much since their first incarnation. At that time, it was easy enough to ignore his desires. Their coven was thriving and complete with twelve members, and they had been familiars to their own individual witches. Over the generations, the Panthera Coven’s numbers had dwindled along with the familiars and they had found themselves thrown together more and more. His attraction had grown with every generation but he had never acted on it for a multitude of reasons. The biggest reason being that their lives were not their own. Hell, even their deaths weren’t their exclusive property, given they were reborn again and again. They were bound to serve their coven and their bloodlines for eternity. As far as he was aware, no familiar had ever had their own family before.
Two generations ago, there had just been him, Vaughn, and one other female familiar left in their coven, and a solo male witch. They had shared the responsibilities and their panthers, already being so accustomed to each other, had settled into a surprisingly easy truce. When Dale had been killed in an accident at the age of twenty-one alongside Maree, his other familiar, he had never even had the chance to make his own family, thus effectively wiping out the Panthera bloodline – or so they had assumed.
Vaughn had spiralled into a rather nasty depression and Ronan had managed to keep himself from his own pit of despair only because the other man had needed him. With no witch left in their coven, their whole purpose for being was over. Not only would they never be reborn again, but they were also outcasts in the witching world. What use was a familiar without a witch? Time had seemed to crawl by in that last life – endless days and nights with no future. His only solace had been Vaughn, despite the man’s hard exterior and shitty attitude. Ronan believed it had literally broken his heart when Vaughn had died in his sleep, aged eighty-three, for he had died not a month later. The real surprise came when they were both born again, finding and recognising each other in their early teens. Unbelievable as it was, the only explanation was that there was another member of their coven out there somewhere. Somehow, someway, there was a surviving witch.
Vaughn refused to believe it at first, arguing with him constantly. But then, a little over ten years ago, Ronan had walked into a bar to peel Vaughn from yet another fight, when his panther had scented another predator in the room. Seth had been the man Vaughn had been pummelling – or attempting to anyway. Seth had been holding his own, even at twenty years of age. After a lot of swearing, arguing, and discussions, they had finally determined Seth was indeed a familiar. And not only a familiar – but a black jaguar, a panther – just like them. It shouldn’t have been possible. Only familiars charged with serving the Panthera Coven shared their spirits with the panther, and their bloodline was extinct. But with the appearance of Seth, came further proof that a witch must be out there somewhere.
After those initial arguments and the adjustment to the dominant nature of Seth’s cat, Seth had started to challenge them in new ways. He was a happy-go-lucky, easy-going man but he was also damn stubborn and chased after what he wanted with a single-minded purpose. And it soon became clear that he wanted the both of them. Ronan shook his head in remembrance; the pure shock on Vaughn’s face when Seth had told them to make out in front of him because he was in the mood for live porn had been priceless. Ronan would forever be grateful for the younger miscreant because he couldn’t remember ever being happier in all his lives as he was right now. Although he didn’t have his coven or his witch, he had the love of two men and he would be quite happy to live out the rest of his days in his little shadow of three.
“Earth to Ronan,” snapping fingers in front of his face brought him back to the present, “Dude, where were you?” Seth asked.
“I was –”
“Never mind where his damn head was at. We need to discuss this case,” Vaughn snatched the phone out of his hand, scrolling through the saved emails from their client.
Ronan sighed. Had he really just thought how perfectly in love he was with the big oaf? “Way to ruin the moment,” he muttered.
“What moment?” The question came from Seth, who was now fully dressed and shaved.
He sighed, reaching up and running his fingers through the silky softness of Seth’s onyx hair, “A sentimental moment. He ruined it and now you’re my favourite,” he jested, tugging playfully on the inky strands.
“The kid’s always your favourite,” was Vaughn’s somewhat absent response but there was no animosity in it. None of them were insecure and none of them played favourites.
Seth grinned, “I’m your favourite too. Admit it, you love me being in the middle.”
Vaughn deigned to flick his eyes up at that and the heat in them was plain to see. Oh, yes, they loved it when Seth was in the middle.
“Enough playtime. We need to discuss this meet. We don’t know anything about this job. The client was suspiciously obtuse in their emails,” Vaughn grumbled.
Ronan chose to ignore Seth’s snicker over Vaughn’s
use of the word suspicious again. What Vaughn said was actually true. They had received an email just days ago from an unknown female asking for help regarding a stalker. She hadn’t volunteered any details about her apparent stalker nor had she volunteered her name. She had merely outlined her situation in vague terms and agreed to pay their fee if they were able to get here within the week. There weren’t many enemies left for their kind; true witch hunters still existed and every familiar was on constant watch for signs of their presence. But their numbers had dwindled considerably over the years. Still, he wouldn’t put it past them to set a trap for them – witch hunters didn’t discriminate between killing witches and familiars. A magical being was a magical being to them and they hunted them all with equal fervour.
“We’ll tread carefully,” he told the others, “And if it turns out to be more than a simple job, we’ll inform the marshals and the conclave.”
They were still on good speaking terms with the conclave – the witching governing body – despite the fact they were deemed useless in regard to their roles as familiars. The marshals also came in handy every so often. They were essentially the police within the witch society and they had often worked with them in the past when the conclave had ordered it.
“I wouldn’t mind if it were the hunters,” Vaughn stated, “I could use a good fight.”
And therein lies his problem, Ronan mused. Vaughn could always use a good fight. Ronan just hoped the mysterious owner of the bar wasn’t involved with the hunters in any way. The thought of harming her made him a little sick to his stomach.
Chapter Five
The sick feeling in his stomach morphed quickly into butterflies when the woman from the night before unlocked the door to the closed bar and gestured them inside after checking their identifications. Seems his inexplicable attraction from the previous evening hadn’t been a one-off. Damn.
“Please, come in. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you all again. You’re really from Sentry Bodyguard Services?” she sounded disbelieving … and just a touch suspicious. Ronan didn’t blame her.
“You saw our identification,” Vaughn declared, his voice gruff and his statement sharp, even for him. Did he feel the connection too? Was that why he was acting defensively?
The woman cleared her throat, “Yes, well. My apologies for last night. I’m sure Trucker Pete said something entirely inappropriate.”
“Trucker Pete?” Seth questioned, eyeing her up and down.
She laughed, the throaty sound going straight to his dick, “That’s what I call him. Pete’s a regular.”
Vaughn snorted, “A regular arsehole maybe.”
Her grinned widened at that, “You’re not wrong. But he’s also fairly harmless – when he’s sober that is. Anyway, I’m Ivory. I suppose we should get down to business …?” she trailed off, looking around the bar as if it would somehow ease the awkwardness in the room.
It was clear she was tense and nervous, and his panther could also smell the acrid scent of fear. The aroma bothered him on a primal level and had his animal wanting to rub up against her in comfort. Instead, he put on his professional hat and gestured to a table, “Maybe we could sit and you could tell us what’s been going on.”
Ivory nodded, straightening her shoulders, “Yes, of course. Please sit. Ronan, right?” she asked, as they made their way to a six-seater table.
He nodded easily, firmly ignoring the thrill he got from hearing his name on her lips, “Right. And this is Seth and Vaughn,” he gestured to his companions, reconfirming the names she had seen on their identifications.
She nodded at each of them in turn, “Thank you for coming. I’ve been having some … issues lately.”
Seth leaned forward on the chair he was straddling. It wasn’t very professional of him but it was a habit Ronan hadn’t been able to break him of yet, “What kind of issues?”
“Creeper issues.”
“Creeper issues?” Seth questioned.
Ivory nodded, “Uh huh. At first, I just thought I had a secret admirer, you know? I received flowers, chocolates … things like that. No card, no return address. The first month or so, they were all rather innocuous …” She trailed off.
“But then they stopped being innocent?” Seth prompted.
She laughed a little, “You could say that. Photos, underwear, and last week … a dead rabbit.”
That got Vaughn’s attention and he sat up straighter, “A dead animal?”
She swallowed hard, looking a little green, “Yes. It was in my letterbox. I think it had been drowned.”
The three of them glanced at each other; that wasn’t good. If the stalker was escalating to that degree, he or she was becoming unstable, “Have you kept everything from this stalker? The letters, the gifts?” he asked.
“Not at the beginning, no. But after the first few weeks, I did.”
“Good. Why don’t you go grab it all for us so we can see what we’re working with? Then we can go from there,” he suggested.
Ivory released a pent-up breath and nodded her head. She stood without further comment, practically running from the room. The movement disrupted the air and caused her scent to waft over him once again. He breathed deep – it was delicious … and oddly familiar.
“Well? What do we think?” Ronan asked, leaving unspoken that he was questioning the legitimacy of the job. They would know what he was alluding to.
“She’s scared. I’ll give her that,” Vaughn acknowledged.
Seth nodded, “She is at that. And I didn’t scent any deceit. I think we can rule out her being a hunter, but there’s just something about her … I can’t put my finger on it,” Seth muttered, looking in the direction Ivory had disappeared.
“I can,” Ronan asserted. The knowledge had just slammed into him moments before, “She smells like us – like all of us,” and it was driving him insane, he added to himself.
The other two looked surprised, taking deep breaths and trying to capture the lingering scent of the female who had just left. Vaughn grunted;
“You’re right. She smells like rain, earth, and vanilla,” he turned and faced him, “You always smell like fresh green grass to me, or falling leaves in autumn. Fresh, crisp … welcoming.”
Ronan nodded, “And you always smell like an approaching storm, wild and turbulent, fresh and powerful.”
Seth was nodding but frowning at the same time, “I agree. But she also smells like vanilla,” he scrunched his nose up, “I don’t smell like vanilla.”
Ronan winced internally. Something told him Seth wasn’t going to like hearing that he did, in fact, smell remarkably like the flavoured orchid. He turned to Vaughn, “You wanna tell him?”
“Tell me what?!” Seth already had a belligerent look on his face and Ronan fought the chuckle building in his chest. He sure was cute when he was disgruntled.
Vaughn nodded, actually grinning for once – too bad it was at Seth’s expense, “You, my little kitten, absolutely smell like vanilla. All sweet and tasty-like.”
Seth gasped in outrage, looking positively horrified, “I do not!”
“You do,” Ronan confirmed, but was very quick to add; “But it’s not a bad thing. My cat loves it. He always wants to roll around in your scent.”
His younger lover didn’t seem convinced if his glower was anything to go by, “I do not smell like vanilla. I smell like dirt and sweat and all things manly,” he grumbled.
Vaughn laughed, clearly enjoying Seth’s discomfort as he draped an arm over his shoulders, “Hey now, it’s not like we can all smell like thunder and lightning.”
A sharp jab to Vaughn’s ribs only caused his arm to tighten as he brushed his head against Seth’s shoulder. Ronan heard a deep inhale and then a rumbling purr that served to stir up his own inner panther, “Don’t fight it, kitten. You smell sexy …” his tongue darted out to lick a long line up Seth’s neck, before nibbling on the flesh exposed behind his ear, “… you taste sexy.”
A squeak
from behind them had him spinning to find Ivory standing in the doorway. Her eyes darted between them, lingering on Vaughn and Seth before she cleared her throat, looking pointedly away. Ronan frowned at her obvious discomfort. Did she have a problem with men being together? He was surprised how disappointed he was in her. Wondering why her opinions should matter to him so much on such short acquaintance, he almost missed Vaughn’s deep breath in. The satisfied purr that followed wasn’t loud enough to be perceived by human ears, but his panther heard it loud and clear.
What the hell? He wondered, shocked by Vaughn’s reaction. But then he smelt it; arousal, sharp and ripe permeated the air. And it was distinctly feminine. Out of all of them, Vaughn had the best sense of smell and had obviously picked up the scent before he or Seth.
Well, well, well, Ronan thought. Seemed his initial assumption about Ivory’s reaction had been wrong. Now, wasn’t that interesting?
Chapter Six
Ivory took a deep breath, attempting to gain control of her rapidly beating heart. When she had entered, the two largest of the men had been wrapped around each other and it was all she could do not to lick her lips. Talk about a turn-on. She’d never really thought of herself as particularly kinky before and although she enjoyed the odd daydream about being pleasured by a harem of hot men, she had never entertained the possibility in real life. Well, she sure as shit was now! Vaughn had his arm wrapped around Seth and the bigger man had been leaning into him, clearly trusting in his lover’s strength to keep them both upright. Vaughn’s mouth had been at Seth’s neck and all she could think of was how she wanted to be in the middle of it all. Strong, masculine arms surrounding her, hard bodies pressing in from all sides as lips and tongues explored at their leisure … Sigh …
Quickly averting her eyes before any of the men noticed the lust lasering from them, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall … and sighed all over again. But this time, it was in resignation. She caught herself patting her hair self-consciously, hating the mousey-brown colour and the limp look of it. Her dull brown eyes, rounded freckled face, and non-descript clothes completed her appearance and she found herself cursing the magical glamour for the first time in years. Never being a vain person, she hadn’t really been too concerned with the necessity of the glamour – she altered her appearance to save her life. Full stop. She’d rather be alive and safe, than preen at herself in the mirror every morning. But right now, faced with the trio of male perfection in front of her, she wished she could reveal her true features. Her bright purple eyes and snow-white hair were always eye-catching – and that was exactly why she had been forced to use a glamour in the first place. Her countenance was too striking, too unusual – even the non-magic users couldn’t fail to notice her otherworldly appearance.
