The Enchanted: Council of Seven Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  As Landon sat in the tub, he considered when the migraines had started, over six months ago, not long after Miriam’s death. At first, he had dismissed them idly, but their frequency and severity were doubling to the point they could no longer be ignored. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, focussing on his breathing like Jasmine had once taught him as a meditative property.

  The combination of the heat and easy thoughts finally put him into a place of deep relaxation, and slowly, he felt himself floating away in a trance-like place, balancing somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. He could still feel the water on his skin and hear the bubbles around him, but in his mind’s eye, he had walked back into the nightclub he had visited on Friday night.

  He sat at the bar, watching the exchange between the identical Lycan twins and the dark-haired bartender. Her brown eyes sparked with indignation as she ignored their overtly aggressive comments, and Landon willed himself to shut his mouth.

  They’re Elliot Bay Pack, he thought. You must represent them, but you don’t have to like them.

  “Screw off, Pearson!” the bartender yelled, her eyes darting away not in nervousness but in anger. It was then that Landon realized she was going to snap.

  And if she shows herself in a place like this, everyone dies, his inner Councilman chimed in his head. He knew he had to intervene, even though he wanted nothing more than to walk away and let the pack fight it out among themselves.

  Abruptly, someone pushed on his shoulder, shattering his reverie, and his eyes flew open. Jasmine glowered at him.

  “Get out,” she sighed. “I canceled my appointments for the rest of the day.”

  He blinked several times, staring at her uncomprehendingly. “Why?”

  “Because you’re one of the Seven,” she barked back, though Landon had a feeling it was Laurel who had called her and asked for the favor. Uncharacteristic guilt stabbed through him, and he nodded toward the heated towel rack.

  “Grab me a towel before I flash you my junk.” Jasmine smiled thinly.

  “No matter what the lady Lycans think, it’s not that impressive.” She whipped the terrycloth at him, making Landon chortle, but as he wrapped it around himself, he couldn’t help wondering what the bartender from the club might think about his naked form.

  Stop it, he snapped at himself. It was a one-off, helping her. You’ll probably never see her again.

  3

  The fact that Wren had fallen asleep was stunning, but there were only so many days a girl could go without regular rest. It seemed that the minute her eyes closed, they were flying open again at the sound of a crash beyond the flimsy door which served as her and Jordan’s shared bedroom.

  Wren looked up in a panic toward the cot that her brother occupied, but it was empty. Her heart raced in her chest.

  “DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!” a chanting of voices howled. Wren sat up on her uncomfortable mattress, pulling the blanket around her, even though she was still fully dressed in a tracksuit. It was difficult to see around the closet-sized room, though not impossible, rays of light seeping in the through the slits around the accordion door which acted as their bedroom.

  “DO IT!” Her mother’s shrill tone met Wren’s ears, and the preteen slipped her socked feet off the side of the mattress, even though she wanted nothing more than to slide the thin blanket over her head and forget that there were probably a dozen adults engaging in whatever just beyond the walls of the “summer trailer.”

  In truth, it was a summer flophouse, a place where her parents entertained the lowest forms of the Enchanted on the secluded lake with their cheap drugs and boisterous parties.

  But where was Jordan if not asleep in the next bed?

  Wren had a terrible feeling she knew.

  Cautiously, she pulled the door open and peered into the living room. It was jammed with strangers, a chaotic bunch of misfits who had nothing better to do with their summer than cram themselves inside a camper with more likeminded idiots. Even at the tender age of twelve, Wren knew they were the dredges of their society, people who were an insult to the term “adult.”

  Some of the beings in their presence were as much as a thousand years old and from all walks of life. Wren stared at the scene with her usual contempt, her mouth curling inward to make a frown of disapproval as her gaze rested on her mother standing on a table, chugging back something from a red plastic cup as though she was a frat boy in a low-rated house at some unknown college. Wren couldn’t see her father anywhere, but she knew he was apt to be nearby, enabling his wife in her intoxication.

  “Oh!” Wren’s mother, Caroline, yelled, lowering the cup, her eyes fixed on her daughter instantly. “Look who came to join us!”

  Wren wished she hadn’t indulged her need to see what was happening and remained hidden in her room, but it was too late for that now. The crowd turned, leering at her as they waved her forward to join the festivities.

  “Come on, Wren!” someone she didn’t know called out to her. “We’ve got a drink with your name on it!”

  “I’m twelve,” Wren shot back indignantly, and the beings laughed at her proclamation.

  “Don’t be a party pooper, Wren,” Caroline insisted, hopping unsteadily off the table. “Even your brother is letting loose tonight.”

  Wren reluctantly looked toward where her mother gestured and cringed slightly, biting on her lower lip. Indeed, her brother Jordan was sitting among several other pack members, snorting gods only knew what up his nose.

  Before she could stop herself, Wren stormed toward him and grabbed his arm furiously.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed. “Stop that right now!”

  At sixteen, Jordan had already reached his full Lycan maturity, his huge frame hunkering almost uncomfortably in the simple wooden chair as he looked up at her with eyes that chilled Wren to the core.

  “You should go back to bed,” Jordan told her flatly. “You’re too young for this kind of party.”

  “So are you!” she snapped back, tugging on the cuff of his white t-shirt. “Come back to bed.”

  One of the other wolves howled with laughter. “After what we just took, your bro isn’t going to sleep for two days. Anyway, it’s a full tonight, Wren. Why don’t you join us?”

  Wren ignored the others, her dark eyes fixed on her brother pleadingly.

  “Jordan, this isn’t you,” she begged him quietly. “Come on.”

  He wrenched his arm away from her and scowled. “You don’t know anything, little girl,” he spat. “Don’t touch me.”

  Shock sparked through Wren, and she gaped at her only sibling. He’d never spoken to her like that before. If anything, it had been her and Jordan against the crazy world that was spiraling out of control. For years, they had planned their escape from their drug-addled parents. What was going on?

  “Tell her to come with us, Jordan!” another wolf insisted, reaching up to pull on Wren’s arms. “It’s going to be a great hunt!”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you!” Wren cried, slapping the Lycan’s hand away. She was still looking at her brother, who refused to meet her eyes.

  “Go back to your room, Wren,” Jordan intoned. “Now.”

  “Oh, come on, Jordan,” Caroline chortled, joining them. An air of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke enveloped Wren, making her gag, even though it was her mother’s usual eau de toilet. “Why should you get to have all the fun? Your sister’s old enough to join in the festivities, don’t you think?”

  Wren gaped plaintively at her brother, willing him to look at her.

  “Jordan?” she murmured. “Please, let’s go back to our room.”

  Jordan refused to meet her gaze and instead turned back toward his companions, tapping the table for another brush of powder.

  “Hit me again,” he growled.

  Bile rose in Wren’s throat as she watched him add more poison to his body, her young mind too overwhelmed to make sense of anything that was happening. Tears blurred her vision,
and she spun to hurry back to her room, sliding the accordion door closed with such force, she almost took the door off its track.

  A couple had already taken up in her bed, and they ignored her as they continued to make out, leaving Wren to curl into Jordan’s, yanking the pillow over her ears to block out the nightmare around her.

  I’ve lost Jordan now, too, she thought miserably. They got to him. It’s just going to be me from now on.

  It was a bitter pill to swallow, and she thought of how many times her brother had sworn he wouldn’t fall victim to their parents’ devious ways, their criminal activities, and their sick legacy of drug pushing.

  What had gone wrong? What had changed? How could Jordan do that to her when they were so close to escaping?

  But Wren was old enough to understand that she couldn’t waste time pining for what had been stolen from her. She had learned far too young that she was not like other Lycans, that her pack and family were outcasts. The bullies at school had been relentless, the sneers from the other packs unavoidable. Everywhere she went, she was met with scorn and contempt. Yet Wren had always had faith that her brother would have her back in the middle of everything.

  It was just one more devastating blow she would need to accept. She was truly on her own now.

  “Where are you?”

  Wren jerked her head up and looked at Christiana over the kitchen table, the memory of her brother fading as she jolted herself back to the present. She couldn’t say why she was remembering that moment in her life, but she was grateful Christiana had snapped her out of it.

  “I’m here,” Wren sighed. “Waking up.”

  It was almost two p.m., and Christiana herself had just rolled out of bed. It was the side effect of working all night in the club. They got home at five and slept well past noon, only to get ready and do it again.

  “Is that coffee fresh?” Christiana asked, nodding toward the sputtering pot.

  “Yeah.” She ambled toward it, her long t-shirt barely covering the cheeks of her tiny butt as she moved.

  “I’m seriously done with bartending at Aragon,” Christiana said, and Wren stifled a groan. The conversation was getting old. They had it every afternoon after a long shift, but neither of them ever did anything about it.

  “Me too,” Wren played along. “I’m thinking about going corporate.”

  Even though it was meant as a joke, Christiana frowned. “Anything has to be better than working there, Wren. I only made two hundred bucks after tip-out last night. Is it just me, or are they getting cheaper?”

  Even the list of complaints was the same. Wren nodded her head in agreement. “The money isn’t improving.”

  “Wren,” Christiana grunted. “We need to find new jobs. I’m seriously losing my mind. The twins came by again last night, and there wasn’t anyone to stop them from harassing me this time.”

  Wren looked at her in surprise. She had been working a different bar than Christiana the previous evening and hadn’t seen the Sylvans. “Why didn’t you get Saul to throw them out?”

  Christiana flopped onto the chair facing her but didn’t meet her roommate’s eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “The point is that they’re going to keep coming, especially after Landon embarrassed them. Too bad we can’t get him to be a bouncer at Aragon.”

  An unexpected shiver slithered through Wren at the notion of working with someone like Landon Burke.

  You’re insane, she chided herself. The man is on the Seven, and he’s the CEO of a marketing company. He’s not looking to moonlight as a bouncer. He probably wouldn’t have gotten involved at all if he’d realized you were a member of the Elliot Bay Pack. Still, she couldn’t help but entertain the inane idea for a minute.

  “We’ve been talking about looking for another job forever,” Christiana insisted. There was a note of near desperation in her tone that made Wren peer closely at her friend.

  “Yes,” she replied slowly. “We have. Why are you so determined now all of a sudden?”

  “I just think we should move on,” Christiana said vaguely. Wren, however, had known her long enough to know when the girl was hiding something from her. If there was anyone in the lonely world that Wren might have considered close, it was Christiana, even though it was risky to become too chummy with anyone. Those who knew too much about you were apt to screw you over—at least, that had always been Wren’s philosophy.

  In any case, that didn’t mean she couldn’t read Christiana like a book.

  “I’m not arguing your point,” Wren told her. “But is there something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

  Christiana raised her head slowly and looked at Wren, her chin twitching nervously.

  “I was going to tell you,” she muttered. “But…” She paused, and Wren stared at her expectantly.

  “Well?”

  “The twins weren’t alone last night.”

  “They never are. They come with those asses every time.”

  “They came with another ass—ah, someone else,” Christiana explained, her eyes shifting away again, but Wren slapped her hands down on the table.

  “Focus!” she snapped at Christiana. “Who? What happened?”

  “Don’t freak out, okay?”

  “I’m going to freak out if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “I didn’t get Saul to kick them out because your brother was with them.”

  Wren’s mouth parted in shock, but she wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. The twins had made some offhanded remark about seeing Jordan the previous weekend, but she had dismissed it as them being assholes. It had never occurred to her that Pearson and Preston might disclose her workplace to her brother.

  “What?” Wren asked as Chris pursed her lips, considering her next words carefully. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  “You’re freaking out,” Christiana muttered. Wren didn’t care.

  “What did he say, Chris? What was he doing there?”

  “Looking for you,” her friend confessed. A brick of dread landed in Wren’s gut.

  “Why?”

  Christiana shook her head. “I seriously don’t know. I told them you were off, but Wren, I think we need to find new jobs. If your brother knows you’re working there—”

  “Yeah,” Wren interjected shortly. “It’s only a matter of time before my parents find out, too. If they haven’t already.”

  The brunette sank back against the back of her chair, her heart hammering wildly. It had been a decade since she’d seen Jordan, and their last encounter had not gone well. It pained her more than she cared to admit to think of what her once-trusted brother had become. She eyed Chris warily.

  “How did he look?” Wren asked, the words sticking in her throat. She didn’t want to ask, not really. She’d left that part of her life behind her when she’d left home at fourteen, escaping the warped life Caroline and Fergus had created for them.

  Christiana looked away. “Fine,” she mumbled. “He looked fine.”

  The lie resonated inside Wren’s mind. Jordan wasn’t any finer than she was, Wren was certain of that. It made her sick to imagine what had become of Jordan in the time since she’d last seen him, but she steeled herself from thinking about it.

  No, she thought firmly. I don’t care. If I have to move again, I will. I won’t get sucked into that life again, no matter what.

  “Wren, say something,” Christiana pleaded, her eyes wide with worry. Wren forced a smile on her face.

  “Thank you for the heads up,” she said simply.

  “That’s it?” her friend asked dubiously. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “No,” Wren chuckled mirthlessly. “I am also going to say, get your laptop. It looks like we need to go job hunting.”

  4

  As always, Jasmine’s massage worked miracles on Landon’s migraine, and for a week, he was granted some reprieve to get through the rest of his days without incident.

&
nbsp; On Friday night, he found himself back at The Quarry, alone at the bar. Laurel and Jasmine had invited him over for dinner, but Landon had declined, not in the mood for company. It had been a hectic few days, and he wanted to relish the alone time while he had it.

  Landon rolled his drink around in his hand and stared at the melting ice in the glass, slightly annoyed that it had been served with ice at all. He had specifically asked for the drink neat, but he was too tired to involve himself in a scene.

  I must be getting old. I wouldn’t have hesitated to send this back a month ago.

  Even though the redhead he’d seen when he had last been there was working that night, she avoided looking at him, the memory of their tryst in the bathroom probably still fresh on her mind. Landon tried to remember her name. It didn’t come easily, although the scent of her vanilla-scented perfume still lingered in his nostrils somehow.

  Downing the drink, he pushed it toward the interior of the bar, catching the attention of the petite bartender on the other side. It wasn’t the same one who had served him when he first walked in, and he didn’t recognize her as one of the staff he knew. Still, there was an elusive familiarity to her.

  “Oh!” She looked surprised when her eyes landed on him. “Hi.” She was a delicate doll of a woman, with exotic features and brown eyes. And she was a Lycan, clearly.

  “Hello,” he replied. “Double scotch. Neat.”

  She nodded and retrieved his glass, shuffling away to fill his order. Landon stared after her for a long moment, trying to place her.

  He was sure he hadn’t slept with her. Well, moderately sure. She wasn’t looking at him with disgust. Landon shrugged it off, even though it was bothering him for reasons he couldn’t identify. It wasn’t until the bartender returned with his drink, accompanied by another dark-haired woman, that Landon clued into who they were: the bartenders from Aragon.

  “Hi,” the newcomer said, taking the glass from her friend and laying it before Landon. “I was hoping to see you again. I owe you money.”