The Enchanted: Council of Seven Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  “Yes, I would like that,” she answered before any other foolishness could enter her mind. Together, they descended the stairs, where Shawna was dusting the foyer.

  “Your cat is a demon,” Shawna announced when she saw them. She held up her arms as evidence, and Gena cringed. Shawna’s arms were crisscrossed with red, bloodied streaks.

  “I’m sorry, Shawna, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me, bringing him here.”

  “You owe me,” the housekeeper replied, but the smile and wink took the sting from her words.

  “Where is Mittens?” Gena asked, glancing around. Shawna shrugged.

  “As soon as I let him out of the box, he tried to swat at me again and ran off hissing. He’s likely hiding out. It’s probably for the best. I may be forced to kill him.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” Gena sighed, and she felt her shoulders tense slightly.

  He was just getting over Chad leaving, and now I’ve uprooted him. It’s not the cat’s fault. I can’t blame him when I feel exactly the same way about change. Or did she? Suddenly, she didn’t feel as up in arms about hiding away at Arden’s house, away from the judging eyes of Apple Orchard. I have definitely had it worse.

  Arden and Gena turned into the spacious living room, and Arden busied himself with the remote controls as Gena sat back on the comfortable suede sofa.

  Should I forewarn him that Mittens is vindictive? Nah, he’s probably already regretting letting me stay here. I’ll let him figure it out himself. He seems like a dog person. Normal people are generally dog people. I should have known Chad was wrong when he wanted to adopt Mittens instead of that beautiful Husky at the SPCA. Why are you thinking about Chad?

  The only answer she could come up with was that she was trying to ignore the incredible nervousness she was feeling as Arden sat on the sofa. He was not directly beside her, but he was close enough that she could smell the scent of his aftershave and see the few hairs he missed with the razor.

  “Who is your favorite actor?” he asked quite unexpectedly. Gena blinked at the question.

  “Who—why, you are, Mr. Morrow!” she cooed, batting her eyes.

  Arden’s brow furrowed at her glib response, and he shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, seriously, who are you a fan of? I wasn’t asking for an ego boost.”

  “Um… I like Ryan Clair.” Arden’s eyes lit up, and his generous mouth curved upwardly appealingly.

  “Perfect! You’re going to appreciate this, then.” He hit a few buttons on the remote control, and suddenly, a picture of Ryan Clair and Arden came on screen. Gena’s eyes widened as she recognized what she was watching.

  “Is that—?”

  “Yep, this was on set of Marked Men. Just watch.”

  The footage was raw, and for the first few minutes, the actors played their roles until Ryan missed his line and fumbled. The director yelled, “Cut!” in the background, but the tape they were watching continued to roll.

  Suddenly, Ryan flew into a rage, ripping off his shirt and swearing at everyone in earshot. Gena watched in disbelief as he stormed about the set, smacking over props and cursing the director’s wife.

  “Was the director’s wife even there?” Gena asked in awe, unable to reconcile the tyrant onscreen with the heartthrob she had grown up to love.

  “Nope. But Ryan likes to leave no stone unturned when he’s mad.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Gena began to laugh. “Wow! That’s crazy! Does stuff like that happen a lot?”

  “Like this? Quite a bit. Name another actor.”

  Gena stared at him in disbelief. “You have more of these?”

  “I have all the dirt,” Arden joked. “Name someone. Anyone.”

  “Um… Valerie Smithers.”

  He gave her a worried look, but she didn’t miss the bemusement on his face. “Uh-oh, are you sure you want to see this?”

  “I don’t know, do I?” Gena wasn’t sure.

  Arden chortled and found the recording. Immediately, Gena was watching her favorite actress stumble drunkenly around the set, doing stripteases for the stage crew. As the afternoon progressed, she watched bloopers of celebrities misreading lines, adlibbing, joking, laughing, abusing, and, in one instance, urinating in the middle of their workday.

  “I can’t believe this!” Gena gasped, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Your co-stars are insane! Wait a minute! Where are yours?”

  Arden clucked his tongue.

  “I imagine Ryan Clair is showing them to his significant other as we sit here,” he replied laughing. Gena felt heat rise to her cheeks. She knew his words were not meant to imply anything, but she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be Arden Morrow’s significant other.

  Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! This is not a fairytale. This is real life. The man rescued you from a crappy situation. He is not your knight in shining armor, and you most definitely are not a princess. Stop playing “what if” and start thinking about what you’re going to do when you get out of here. That’s where your mind should be.

  She raised her eyes to stare into his face, and her breath caught in her throat. He was staring at her with an intensity she had never seen. As if there was a magnet between them, Gena felt her body draw closer to his. Any silent protest which had entered her mind abruptly fell silent as their lips met. Gently, like they were worried the slightest movement might steal the moment, their mouths softly explored the other’s tender skin. Arden’s hand moved up to cup her left cheek, his fingers twining into her soft hair. Gena was frozen, terrified to move, her heart pounding with excitement. His tongue brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She had never been kissed so warmly, with so much feeling, and she was afraid she would do something to end the warm sensation coursing through her body. His fingers slowly caressed the smooth line of her chin and traced their way down toward the straps of her tank top.

  Gena brought her own palms to his face and drew him closer. She felt his body relax, and for the first time, she realized that he was feeling as skittish as she was. She took a strange comfort in that knowledge, as if it was confirmation that he was not simply using her as a pawn in some perverse game.

  He did not lower the straps as she had expected, instead continuing his exploration of her flesh with smooth hands, memorizing every delicate pore of her athletic frame. Over her shirt he continued while their lips met passionately, down her slender side until both hands met on her back. Gena’s hands encircled his hair, relishing the silky bounce of his curls. Her body was hot, flushed, but she did not want their kissing to end, and Arden did not push beyond where they had already dared to go.

  “Mr. Morrow—oh, my God!” Shawna’s shocked tone caused them both to jump back from their embrace, but the housekeeper was gone before they could look up. Blushing furiously, Gena shifted away. Arden grabbed her hand.

  “Hey,” he said, his own cheeks stained pink. “It’s okay.”

  Gena shook her head, not trusting her voice. No, this is not okay, she thought miserably. Nothing will ever be “okay” again.

  A flash of fur interrupted her dark thought. Mittens came barreling into the living room, where he leapt onto Arden’s lap. The calico curled up, purring happily, and went to sleep. Gena stared disbelievingly at the scene.

  That damned cat hates everybody! she thought as Arden continued to smile warmly at her, his hands stroking the feline affectionately. Maybe everything is going to be okay after all.

  14

  What are you doing? This is your penance for going where you had absolutely no business going with Gena. What were you thinking?

  Arden lowered his head against the toilet and waited for another round of nausea to overwhelm him. He resisted the urge to lay on the floor where it was cool, because he was certain that the moment he did, he would be forced to embrace the porcelain throne once more. As he anticipated, more vomit rose into his throat, and he expelled the last of his break
fast.

  Is that it? I think that’s it. Gratefully, he lay on the marble tile of his en-suite bathroom and waited for the dizziness to subside. Shawna is going to walk in here and find me like this one day, except I won’t be breathing. I’ll be dead.

  The vertigo was unbearable today, and he knew it was going to be a rough afternoon. The thought filled him with bitterness. He had hoped to spend more time with Gena, but he reasoned it was a blessing this was occurring. The gods knew what he was thinking, and they were calling him a fool for even considering it. Why would he ever imagine that he could begin something with this woman when he was going to die?

  You’re selfish, and she doesn’t deserve that, especially not after everything she’s been through at your hand. Going forward, you keep Gena Averson at a distance. I don’t care what you have to do.

  Even as he thought it, he knew that there was no way he was going to honor his own wishes. Gena brought out something in him that he had never experienced with anyone else. Her fatalistic outlook contradicted the passion in her eyes, and the combination made her the most unique person whom he had ever met. She wanted so much to turn her back on the world, to assume the worst in everything and everyone, but that wasn’t who she was inside. She was compassionate and loving, and she needed someone to love her back.

  Arden gritted his teeth together. He knew that he couldn’t be that person for her, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to be.

  Los Angeles ruined me for real people, he thought, but had he ever really felt alive before meeting Gena?

  He still hadn’t broached the topic of how she had been turned, but the more time he spent with her, the less he cared. If she was a demon, as impossible as it might be, she was no threat to him. He was dying, anyway, and she didn’t seem to understand the properties of the Enchanted. Whatever might have happened to her had no bearing on his life. If anything, opening that door might bring unwelcome visitors to investigate, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  He was feeling well enough to rise, but still, he had the sense that the worst was yet to come. Stumbling to his bed, he curled into the Egyptian cotton sheets and took deep breaths.

  Am I giving up? Is there any other way? he asked himself for the hundredth time since his prognosis. He knew the answer, though; anything he did was a crapshoot. He might extend his life by weeks or end up dead instantly. An Aldwin witch might be able to cure him, but then again, an Aldwin witch would turn him in, and Theo would undoubtedly put him down to save the bloodline.

  Arden had weighed his options and decided the former was a much better approach. Dying is a natural part for most living creatures, he had told himself while coming to terms with his illness. But that had been before moving to Apple Orchard, before Gena Averson. Now, he wondered how much more time he could buy.

  If he managed to get up from his bed, he would make some calls and rethink his options. Maybe it was time he let Malik know what was going on. Arden would need all the reinforcements he could get.

  “She was right!” Helena exclaimed, jabbing Basil in the ribs. “Look, there’s the Averson girl!”

  “Ow! I have eyes, too, Hel,” Basil muttered, tossing down his sandwich and picking up his Nikon. He flashed a few pictures of Gena exiting the back door of the old Keller farm and disappearing into a red barn in the distance.

  “Any sign of him?” Helena pressed, craning her neck around like a bobble head.

  “Nope.” Sighing, Helena sat back and drummed her fingers on her legs.

  “So, Shari was right all along,” she said with some disappointment. “I guess the girl really was his hidden girlfriend.”

  “You had your doubts?” Basil asked, resuming his lunch. Helena was silent for a moment. She wasn’t entirely sure how much she could trust him. He might sell her out if he thought it would get him on Shari’s good graces.

  “I just felt like there was more to the story, you know?”

  “Like she was his long-lost daughter?” Basil offered, his eyes widening. “Oh, wouldn’t that be something?”

  Helena scowled and gave him a baleful look. “She’s almost twenty-nine. He’s in his forties, I think. Although he doesn’t look a day older than thirty.”

  “Well, then what were you thinking?” She shrugged helplessly. Seeing Gena Averson at Arden’s house did not lessen the sense she had that something wasn’t right with Shari’s theory.

  “I mean, we dug, right? We dug on their history and came up with nothing,” Helena said, chewing on her lower lip.

  “She did have his phone,” Basil replied, polishing off the rest of the bread.

  Helena scoffed. “Oh, big deal. You know how many cell phones I’ve picked up in my life and how many I’ve lost? She could very easily have picked it up inadvertently and somehow found herself entangled in one of Shari’s traps.”

  “Yeah? And did you end up living in the house of the guy whose cell you found?” Basil asked innocently. Helena reluctantly agreed that her photographer had a point.

  “Just do what you’re commissioned to do, Spitzer. The last thing you need is Shari Jespers thinking that you’re going rogue on her. You’ll never work in LA again.”

  She knew that he was not speaking idly; if Shari caught wind of competition on her own turf, Helena would be annihilated. I’ll just have to make sure she never finds out, she thought worriedly.

  Malik Williams was at his wits’ end. He had put off all inquiries as to Arden’s whereabouts for as long as he possibly could. Shari Jespers was showing no sign of slowing down, and for the first time in his incredibly high-stress career, he was considering throwing in the towel.

  I have that chalet in the Swiss Alps. I could live there comfortably, despite my intense hatred of snow, he thought, already calculating how far his savings would take him. Hell, maybe I’ll even learn how to ski.

  He had turned off his cell phone two days earlier and gone into his office only once, a move he had instantly regretted. Four directors’ lackeys were waiting for him in the lobby, and Malik had wondered if they had been camped out there for days. Something in their haggard faces told him they had. He was beginning to understand what Gena Averson had felt like; there was no escape when everyone wanted a piece of you. And they didn’t even want a piece of him, they wanted a piece of Arden.

  To his surprise, Malik found himself longing for the solitude of Apple Orchard. He suddenly understood what the appeal of that middle-of-nowhere town held for Arden. Perhaps he should sell the chalet and buy a house in British Columbia.

  As the thought left his head, he almost choked out his americano. What has Arden done to you? His crazy funk is contagious. Soon, he’ll be convincing you to live in a bunker in the Appalachians somewhere. Get a grip on yourself, man, before you’re eating Spam out of a can and wearing Birkenstocks.

  Still, Malik admitted to himself that he was looking forward to returning to Apple Orchard, but he continued to stay in LA, hunkered in his loft, undisturbed. He had a feeling about Gena Averson, and his feelings were not often wrong.

  Despite his overwhelming desire to see how Arden was holding out in BC, he dared not go. Shari Jespers had not added any further fuel to the made-up fire she had created, and Malik wondered if she was tiring herself out now that she was staring at an empty house.

  I wonder if they’ve even realized that they’re staring at an empty house yet. Moving the girl in with Arden was a good idea. Minimally, it bought them time. In a couple of weeks, those two crazy kids will be in love, Shari Jespers will be feeding off another poor celebrity’s white blood cells, and Arden can go back to doing what he does best: making movies. That wretched woman ended up doing Arden a service without realizing it. I will have to remember to send her a bouquet of thank-you flowers later.

  “Mr. Morrow?” Shawna knocked on the door to the bedroom again but heard nothing from within. Frowning, she cautiously stepped into the front room. Mr. Morrow was not at the table nor on the loveseat, so she began tidying up the ar
ea as per her normal cleaning routine. She had not seen him all day, and it was after two o’clock.

  Maybe he’s in the barn with Gena, she thought wickedly. Since walking in on them the previous afternoon, she had made herself scarce, knowing that they would both be embarrassed. Secretly, Shawna had been pleased by the display. Not that she thought there was an iota of truth in Shari Jespers’ vile gossip, but she didn’t mind what had happened as a result. Gena was the anti-Leona Davis. She was smart, sane, and so sassy. She was exactly what Mr. Morrow needed.

  I’m glad they found one another. They deserve to be happy, especially after all this crap. They are kindred spirits. The fates will always find a way to bring two people together who are meant to be with one another.

  Shawna had briefly seen Gena in the morning, creeping out into the back of the property, but she had ducked out of view to spare Gena some extra humiliation time. Her boss, on the other hand, had not eaten all day.

  I hope he’s not going out of his way to avoid me. That’s just silly. He can’t hide forever, Shawna thought gleefully. Finishing a general clean of the sitting room, she walked into the master bedroom. Immediately, she was hit with the stench of stale vomit in the air. Concern flooded through her as she shuffled further into the room.

  “Mr. Morrow?” she called out quietly. “Are you in here?”

  There was no response, but as Shawna approached, she could see him laying against the pillows, pale and breathing shallowly.

  Oh, God, what is wrong? she wondered, rushing toward him. She shook his shoulder and patted his face, and to her horror, it began to shift into a furry mask that she didn’t recognize. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reeled back in shock. You’re seeing things. You’re seeing things again, she told herself, choking on the thought.