by Amy Sumida
She looked positively startled, glancing in the mirror hanging on the wall. He saw her touch her face, a sad look entering her eyes for a moment before she squared her shoulders, “I can’t do the exact same one. It was semi-permanent, only dispersing when I willed it to – something I never had any intention of doing. When I decided to settle here, it took me months and months to perfect that spell and to store up enough power to make it work. Until then, I had been doing daily glamours. I guess I’ll have to go back to doing that.”
With that she closed her eyes and ran her hands over her hair. White strands made way for brown, freckles once again marred porcelain skin, and exotic eyes became ordinary brown. He tried very hard not to tell her to change back immediately. Now that he had seen the real Ivory, he found this one distasteful almost. It wasn’t her appearance – he would find her beautiful no matter what guise she wore. But it was the fact she seemed to lose some of her spark when the glamour was in place. One day soon they would find answers to her strange past and a solution to hiding her face. But at the moment, the most pressing issue was the sick fuck threatening her. Nothing mattered more than her safety – even their own happiness.
Chapter Twenty
Ivory fled downstairs and into the sanctuary of her cellar. The room was dark and cool, chilling her heated cheeks and calming her wildly beating heart. The dim and the quiet were exactly what she needed to gather her scrambling thoughts. Familiars? Mates? She shook her head, remembering when the most stressful part of her day was waking up to a dead bunny on her doorstep. What was she supposed to do with three domineering men who were connected to her magically? And what was worse, they believed she was also connected to them on a primal level. She plonked her butt down on the nearest box, telling her cat to shut the hell up. The darn thing had been mewling and purring ever since Seth had shifted in front of her. It had no doubt whatsoever that Seth and the other two male black jaguars were meant for her.
Stupid horny cat! She groused. Now that the more powerful glamour had dissolved, she easily recognised them as familiars – her familiars. Her mother had told her all about familiars and witches, so she knew there was a natural magical bond between familiars and their covens. Having never been exposed to such relationships, she had never felt she was lacking anything. But now that her magic was reaching out to the three familiars, she realised there had been a big empty space where her magic resided. She found herself wanting to ask them to do things for her, or just be with her – in a completely non-sexual way. It was like she wanted them to be her best friend or something. It was very odd but felt so natural at the same time.
However, the second her panther chimed in on the situation, it was all about the sexual feelings. Her cat did indeed love the smell of the three men. Even with the glamour in place, she had to fight the animal’s desire to shift and run back upstairs. But the human part of her had meant what she said to Vaughn; was their attraction, their intimacy nothing more than animal instinct coupled with a bloodline bond? The thought hurt her more than it should. She didn’t want to be reduced to fate – no matter how cool that was. She wanted to be a choice.
She sighed, kicking her feet against her makeshift chair and hearing a dull thud. Looking down, she discovered she was sitting on a box that held two dozen bottles of a truly lovely white wine. Taking it as a sign from the alcohol gods, she had the box opened and the cork popped in one minute flat. She tipped the bottle back and did a decent job of being a frat boy – skulling a third of the contents in one breath.
“Whoa, Ivory?!”
The deep voice behind her interrupted her concentration from her wine guzzling and she choked, inhaling the bubbles instead of swallowing them. A hard hand patted and rubbed her on the back until she was able to stand upright and breathe again.
“Lee?” she coughed.
“Yeah. What the hell are you doing?” he was eyeing her as if she was some kind of closet alcoholic or something.
“I was just um, testing the wine,” she stuttered, ingeniously holding it up to the light spilling through the now open cellar door, “It has a smooth, easy finish with ripe, tropical fruit flavours and a hint of gooseberry. Great depth of flavours,” she nodded her head sagely.
He didn’t look convinced, “This isn’t a regular occurrence, is it?”
She stopped holding the bottle up, rolling her eyes, “No, Lee. I don’t make a habit of hiding in the dark and swilling our wine supplies. What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, changing the subject.
“It’s almost ten. Libby and I are on the early shift today. You’re not supposed to be in until three,” he informed her.
Almost ten? It was later than she thought. The bar opened at eleven but whoever was on first shift arrived about an hour before to set the place up and get organised. But what was more alarming was the fact Lee said Libby was there. Libby would be able to take one look at her face and know something was up, “Libby’s here?” she squeaked, feeling the beginnings of the wine hitting her bloodstream.
“You bet your arse Libby is here,” came the gleeful voice from behind a still-suspicious looking Lee.
Ivory forced back a shiver at Libby’s gleeful tone. One look and she already knew, Ivory thought. She knew she had spent the night in deviant bliss with three different penises at the same time. She’d rather have them believe she was an alcoholic. Libby was going to be merciless, “I was just –” She began to make a lame excuse to flee, only to be interrupted.
“Investigating how much gooseberry is in our most expensive wine. I heard. I’ll help you,” she gave Lee a none too gentle shove before closing the door soundly in his face and leaning back against the door.
Was it Ivory’s imagination, or did Libby look a little demonic in this light? She backed away slowly, holding the bottle of wine as if it were a shield, “Now Lib …”
Her friend stalked her across the room, “Don’t you use that placating tone on me, you little hussy. I know that look. You had sex!” Libby yelled.
Ivory shook her head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You totally banged someone!”
“Shh! Would you keep your voice down?!” She shushed her bestie, glancing at the door.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that my level of excitement is, like, high,” Libby enthused, making Ivory smile despite herself, “Well, tell me. Which one was it?”
Ivory felt herself blush, cursing the fair, freckled face of her glamour. Why hadn’t she chosen a darker complexion?
“Wait, don’t tell me …” Libby studied her face for a moment, running critical eyes over her entire appearance, “Was it all of them? Oh my god! It was all of them, wasn’t it? Holy shit! This is amazing!”
Ivory took a decent swig from the bottle clutched in a death grip in her hands, “Huh? What? What makes you say that?”
“Because you have the look that only the truly well-fucked can have,” her filthy, plain-spoken friend assured her.
“Libby!”
“Well, it’s true. Not that I would know. I haven’t worn that look in years,” she lamented, “How was it?”
Ivory groaned, “Libby …”
“Come on, my little sex demon. Help a sister out,” she batted her eyelashes, looking pathetic and Ivory completely lost it.
She began laughing hysterically over the ludicrousness of the situation. Libby joined in, grabbing the bottle from her and taking a healthy swallow. And this right here was exactly what she needed, she realised. She didn’t need the quiet or solitude with her thoughts. She just needed her politically incorrect best friend, a bottle of wine, and a chance to talk about the sexual aptitude of the three men upstairs. And for the next twenty minutes, that’s exactly what she did.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but this has totally made my day,” Libby informed her, polishing off the last of the bottle.
Ivory snorted. It had totally made her day too when she had first awoken. Now she was
halfway to drunk at ten in the morning with three men in her apartment who wanted to be tied to her forever because a damn cat said so. But if they were going to be tied to her with anything other than a coven bond, she wanted it to be because they liked her – the same way she liked them.
“Dammit, Ivory! I know that look too. You’re thinking too much again,” Libby’s voice interrupted her introspection.
“I guess I am,” she admitted, beginning to feel annoyed with herself again.
“Tell me what’s rattling around in that head of yours.”
Ivory hesitated, “It’s nothing.”
“Now you listen here,” Libby grabbed her shoulders and gave her a small shake that had her stomach revolting a little over the wine breakfast, “It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you. So spill. Besides, you just told me the length and girth of your three lovers’ dick sizes. I think we’re a little past withholding information.”
She giggle-snorted over that. Libby did have a point, “I like them.”
Libby pursed her lips, “Well, considering you screwed their brains out, I’d say that’s a good thing.”
“No, Libby. I like them as in I like them,” she emphasised like so Lib would catch her drift.
“Oh … which one?”
“All of them.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I say this is a good thing. I’ve never heard you say you like anyone before. Looks like all your Christmases have come at once,” Libby patted her knee, “Don’t over analyse it. Just let it be for now,” she advised.
It was actually good advice, but Ivory was a do-er, and an impatient one at that. When she had a problem she wanted it resolved immediately. Besides, that wasn’t the bulk of the problem, “It’s not just that, Libby. They –” She broke off, desperately wanting to confess everything to her good friend but knowing she had to hold back, “They found out something about me – something I’ve never told anyone,” she ended with a half-truth.
Libby’s clear blue eyes focused on her intently for a moment, “I assume you’re talking about what you’re running from? I’m not stupid, Ivory. I notice things. I’ve known you were hiding something for a while now. And no, I don’t want to know,” she held up a hand, forestalling Ivory’s nervous response, “People have secrets. It’s okay. Lord knows I have my fair share.”
Ivory studied her friend and for the first time, she saw sadness in her eyes. Had she been so focused on keeping her own secrets, holding onto her own problems, that she had failed to see her friend was also in pain? “I’m sorry, Lib. I –”
But Libby slapped her hand over her mouth, “Ivory, please. We’re all good. I won’t pester you and you won’t pester me. Cool?”
“Cool,” she agreed, still feeling a little ashamed and like she was betraying their friendship by not revealing her true self. But the revelation that Ronan, Vaughn, and Seth were familiars – her familiars – and somehow also mates to her inner panther …? Well, it was about all she could handle today.
“Okay, without telling me what your fine bodyguards have discovered, tell me how they reacted. I assume not well if you’re so anxious about it.”
Ivory thought about their reactions – shock and awe pretty much covered it, “On the contrary, they said all the right things … again.”
“Okaaay,” Libby spoke slowly, “So, what? You’re back to not believing them again?”
“That’s just the problem; I do believe them,” her shoulders slumped, “I’m worried I can’t be what they need.”
That much was true at least. Even in her state of shock, she wasn’t oblivious. She had seen the fragile hope on Vaughn’s face, the sheer joy on Seth’s, and the tentative look of expectation in Ronan’s eyes. They had said she was a miracle. How was she supposed to live up to those kinds of expectations?
Her mother had told her what little her father had passed on to her. She understood that a familiar’s urge to serve their coven and their witch was ingrained bone deep. It was a duty and an honour they were born with. The three men upstairs were born knowing their purpose in life but had been unable to fulfil it. For men of action, she knew the waiting and the fruitless searching must have been hell. Was she supposed to just magically fix that? She was naturally very magically inclined. Her mother had always been surprised with how powerful her magic had been as a child. Especially given they had no coven to study and practice with. But her abilities didn’t matter if she didn’t understand the rules or the politics of the game. She had never been immersed in the magical world. She was pretty much clueless.
“Ivory. Just let yourself be. Don’t force anything. Things have a tendency to work out the way they’re supposed to in the end.”
Libby imparted her final piece of Yoda-like advice before pushing up and leaving her alone in the cellar with an empty wine bottle and a head spinning with more than just alcohol.
Chapter Twenty-One
“You shouldn’t have let her go,” Seth groused, pacing the length of the room.
“Did it look like we had a choice?” Vaughn griped from where he was standing stiffly by the window.
“She’s confused and scared. We shouldn’t leave her alone,” Seth pushed again.
Ronan shook his head, “She’s overwhelmed. She needs time without us complicating things. She seems to do enough of that on her own anyway,” he added, frowning over Ivory’s continuous questioning and second-guessing. It was rather annoying, “Besides, she’s just downstairs like she said she was going to be. Can’t you feel her magic?”
Now that they had a chance to see and feel her powers, Ronan could feel her magic easily. The magical bond was there now and would be until the day they died. He was definitely a familiar to her witch.
Seth frowned but at least stopped his agitated movements, “Is that what that is? That low-level buzz in my body?”
“Yeah, that’s what it is. It’s normal for familiars and their witches. We’ll know it if she decides to be an idiot and leave. We’ve been around the block a few times. We know what we’re talking about,” Vaughn sounded pompous and arrogant – a sure fire way to piss Seth off further.
“Really, Vaughn? You’re going to throw that in my face? So I’ve never served a witch before. You both have dozens of times, blah, blah, blah. It doesn’t mean you know more about this particular situation than me,” Seth barked.
Vaughn looked bored with the whole conversation – another deliberate act to fuel the flames, “Um, yeah. Pretty sure it does kid.”
Seth growled, “Don’t call me kid!”
Vaughn shrugged, “Then don’t act like one.”
Seth’s top lip lifted, exposing his sharpened canines as he growled low in his throat. Ronan stood up and walked between the pair, blocking them from each other’s line of sight, “Stop posturing – the both of you. We have bigger things to worry about than you two acting like toddlers,” but Ronan saw the calculation in Seth’s eyes and knew his intervention was going to be for naught.
“I was right, by the way. When are you going to admit that, huh fellas? Not only is there a witch from our coven still alive, but that witch is Ivory. Come on, say it; Seth. Was. Right,” Seth taunted and he just shook his head, not even bothering to stop Vaughn this time. Seth was pretty much asking for it – no matter how right he was.
Vaughn rushed past him in a blur, tackling Seth and taking him to the ground, “Watch the furniture,” he cautioned the grappling pair, watching them mildly as they rolled back and forth on Ivory’s magenta rug. Such a display had been a common occurrence when they had first decided to be together. They had both mellowed a little over the years but you couldn’t put two, well three, alphas together and not expect a bit of conflict.
The two continued to roll around for a minute before Vaughn dragged Seth up to his knees, planting a hard, punishing kiss to his lips. Seth arched into him for a split second before rumbling and pulling away, nimbly gaining his feet. Vaughn lunged at him again but Seth
was quicker this time. He side-stepped and Vaughn hit the wall with a loud thud. Ronan winced, he really hoped they didn’t break anything.
“What is going on in here?!”
All three of them spun to see Ivory standing in the doorway, brown eyes wide in disbelief as she took in the scene, “Just boys being boys,” he assured her, looking warningly at his two lovers. Seth now had Vaughn pinned to the wall and was grinding his hips against the other man whilst attacking his neck. Vaughn was sure to have one hell of a hickey. Ivory looked a little wide-eyed, poised in the doorstep. The right word would have her stepping over the threshold whilst the wrong one would have her bolting.
“Care to join us?” The breathless, taunting comment came from Vaughn.
Ronan merely let his head fall to his chest; those had been the wrong words. Sure enough, Ivory spun on her heels and fled as if the hounds of hell were chasing her.
“Damn you, Vaughn! You scared her off!” Seth accused, pushing him roughly away.
“It was more likely seeing you throw Vaughn against the wall and bite into his neck like some sort of savage that scared her off,” Ronan pointed out long-sufferingly.
“No. It definitely wasn’t that,” Vaughn stated, leaning lazily against the battered wall now. He looked sexy and smug and definitely more relaxed now. He continued, “Don’t you smell that? That woman is hotter than hell right now.”
Ronan inhaled deeply, immediately groaning out loud as the luscious scent of feminine lust and desire filled his nostrils. He was forced to adjust his hardness as he watched Seth do the same.
“We should go after her,” Seth’s voice was raspy with lust.
“Maybe just one of us,” Ronan suggested, pointing out; “No point overwhelming the poor woman more.”
“I’ll go,” Seth immediately piped up.
“I think I should go. You two have already put on enough of a show,” his reprimand held no real heat. The two of them were never going to change and he never wanted them to anyway. He loved everything about them – even their bull-headedness.
