Circle of Desire

by Keri Arthur

  She clenched her fingers around the cross and turned away from the bed. The kid wasn’t here now, but neither were the soul-sucker or the zombies. And she very much suspected they wouldn’t be found at the last remaining farmhouse. Still, she had to check. Then she had to go back and face Ethan.

  And she had a feeling it would be easier facing a dozen zombies than telling Ethan they’d missed rescuing his niece by the slenderest of margins.

  She shoved the chain in her pocket, then shifted shape and flew back out the window.

  ETHAN LEANED AGAINST THE QUAINT, WHITE PICKET FENCE that bordered part of the bakery and watched the traffic roll by. Not that there was much, and not that they rolled by very fast. In fact, most of them slowed down to give him a good, long look. Small-townsfolk didn’t miss much. By later today, he’d no doubt be the subject of much speculation.

  If it weren’t for the fact he was officially off the kidnapping case, he would have started asking some questions himself. If the kidnappers were here, then surely someone in this town would have seen something. But the minute he started nosing about, the sheriff would be informed. While Benton now knew he was here, he at least needed to keep up the pretense of not investigating. Otherwise his boss would come down hard on him.

  Kat strolled down the street about ten minutes later, wearing a dark red cashmere sweater and a short black skirt that swirled around her thighs. Though she looked good enough to stop traffic, his gaze was drawn to the shadows under her eyes. To the shadows in her eyes.

  He caught her hand and drew her in between his legs, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her, enjoying the sweetness of her warm lips but resisting the urge to taste deeper, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  She hesitated, her gaze searching his. Something in his gut clenched tight.

  “Does your niece wear a necklace?”

  The restriction moved up from his gut to his chest. “A cross. Why?” His voice was harsh, flat.

  She reached into her pocket. “This cross?”

  The sun caught the cross as she pulled it free, sparking fire across the gold surface. He reached for it slowly. He’d given Janie the cross last Christmas. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting the turmoil, fighting the fear. “Where did you find it?”

  “At a farmhouse. She’s not there, Ethan. I looked.”

  She reached out as if to comfort him, but he jerked away and pushed her to one side. He took several steps before he could force himself to stop.

  “Where is this farmhouse?” He had to see, had to check himself. Had to know if there was a scent to follow.

  “You can’t go there.”

  He swung around, fists clenched against fury rising inside. “Like hell I can’t!”

  Her green eyes were full of understanding, full of compassion. It only seemed to fire his anger more, though he couldn’t say why.

  “The soul-sucker killed the farm’s owner. Benton will have to be called in, as will the sheriff.”

  “You call them before I get up there, and we may lose her scent.”

  “There’s no scent to follow. It lingers in the bedroom where they kept her, but that’s it.”

  “You don’t have a wolf’s nose,” he retorted. “I may find what you couldn’t.”

  She crossed her arms, as if to contain the anger he could see forming in her eyes. “You don’t have a wolf’s nose, either, unless you shift shape.”

  He took a deep breath. It didn’t help the anger or vague sense of desperation boiling through his blood. “You have no idea what a wolf is and isn’t capable of.”

  “I know more about werewolves than you probably do, especially since you’ve spent a major part of your life denying your heritage.” She shook her head, then brushed past him. “You want to go look for her, then go. See of you can find her without my help. I’m going back to Gran.”

  He reached out to stop her, but she slapped his hand away, her strength and speed surprising him. “Don’t think last night gave you the right to try to order me around, wolf man. I’ve got a job to do, and I intend to do it right.”

  “This is my niece we’re talking about,” he ground out.

  “And at this point in time your niece appears to still be alive.” She flung the words over her shoulder as she continued marching up the street. “You go rushing in blindly, and you just might be the trigger that kills her.”

  What she said was common sense. He knew that. But it went against every instinct he had to stand here and do nothing while the unthinkable could be happening to one very precious little girl. He thrust a hand through his hair and glanced in the direction from which Kat had come, then took another deep breath and followed her back to the cabins.

  And wondered if he could still become a wolf after all the years of denying that part of himself.

  * * *

  KAT CROSSED HER ARMS AND WATCHED ETHAN PACE. HE didn’t say anything, but he didn’t really need to. His anger, frustration, and perhaps even fear filled the room, as sharp as the wind outside.

  “It’s not that easy,” he said eventually. “I can’t just become a wolf.”

  “It is that easy,” she replied, keeping her voice calm. Anything else would only inflame him further. “And it’s not a case of can’t. It’s more won’t.”

  He glared at her, his fists clenched by his side. Controlling the anger rather than any desire to lash out, she knew.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he growled. “Not this time.”

  “And that’s where you’re wrong. Again.”

  He snorted and resumed his pacing. “What, are you trying to tell me you’re also a werewolf? Because, trust me, I’d know if that were true.”

  “Of course that’s not what I’m saying,” she bit back. So much for calmness. “I am, however, a shifter.”

  He stopped abruptly, his expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. “What?”

  “I’m a shifter. I can take on the form of a raven.”

  “No.”

  “God save me from obstinate men,” she muttered. She pushed away from the wall. “Watch and learn.”

  With that, she called to the shifting magic and felt it surge through her, with eager fierceness. In a matter of seconds, she was a raven rather than a woman.

  And the look on his face was priceless.

  She shifted back, adjusted her clothing, and said, “It’s that easy, Ethan. You just have to go with the flow.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “I really have lived a sheltered life, haven’t I?”

  “Apparently so.” But why was the question—though one she knew he wouldn’t answer right now.

  He walked across to the window and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I don’t know—”

  “Look,” she said, “if you want to come to the cabin I found that cross in, you have two choices. Face the wrath of your captain in human form, or avoid it altogether by becoming a wolf. Your choice, as I said, but decide quickly. We need to get up there.”

  He took a deep breath, then released it slowly. “I don’t know how to take wolf form willingly. The only time I tried—” He stopped and shrugged, but she felt the flash of pain nevertheless. Obviously, something had gone seriously wrong that one and only time.

  “I can guide you, Ethan. It really is easy enough to do. In the end, the magic is a part of you. You just have to be willing to release it.”

  “Something I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding.” He swung around to face her, his expression resolute. “What do I do?”

  “First off, relax. Breathe deep and release the anger, the fear, and the tension.”

  “Easier said than done,” he muttered.

  But he did as she bade and, after a few minutes, a sense of calm fell around him.

  “Now,” she said. “Imagine there’s a well deep down in your soul. Imagine it filled with warm and eager light. Feel its welcoming caress surround your fingers, your hands, your arms, as you reach for it.�
�

  Soft golden light began to dance around his fingertips, reaching upward toward his torso.

  “Imagine that light surrounding you, embracing you. Feel in it every fiber, every muscle. Let it become you, and you it.”

  The golden light swept up and across his body, until it encased him entirely. He was close, so close, to changing.

  “Now, imagine the wolf. Welcome him into being.”

  Doubt rose. She could see it in his face, feel it in the air.

  “The wolf will never hurt you,” she said quickly. “Nor can it hurt anyone else unless you desire it. You control it, Ethan, not the other way around.”

  Still he doubted. The magic pulsated, reflecting Ethan’s uncertainty.

  “Become the wolf, Ethan,” she said softly. “Because Janie’s life might well depend on it.”

  Which wasn’t a fair thing to say at this point, even if it was the truth. But it was also the one thing that might break his deadlock.

  And that’s exactly what happened. The magic surged, and a few seconds later, a wolf stood before her. She smiled. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

  Annoyance glittered in his brown eyes. Her smile grew. “You know, as werewolves go, you’re not bad-looking. Shall we go?”

  He walked to the door. She grabbed her keys and purse, and they headed out.

  * * *

  “DON’T SUPPOSE YOU CAN CONTROL THAT DAMN DOG OF yours?” The sheriff’s voice was gruff and edged with frustration. “He’s starting to give the team the creeps.”

  Kat grinned. Ethan—in wolf form, and complete with a bright pink scarf tied around his neck to indicate her ownership—had spent most of the afternoon following the coroner’s men around, listening and watching all that was going on.

  “Believe me, that dog does exactly what he wants to do.”

  “Looks too much like a wolf for my liking.” The sheriff took off his hat and wiped a hand across his bald head. “This place feels like a sauna.”

  She hadn’t noticed the heat when she’d come in here earlier, but the sheriff was right. The place felt hotter than hell. Frowning, she glanced around. They were standing in the living room, surrounded by the old man’s memorabilia and lots of papers. As she stared at one stack, she noted the edges were beginning to curl up and go dark.

  And it was getting hotter with every passing second.

  Goose bumps raced across her skin. Only the two of them were in the house. Nearly everyone else was in the barn or searching the grounds. What better time for evil to kill a pest?

  “Sheriff, I think we should leave.”

  He gave her the sort of look she’d seen half her life. The look that queried sanity. “Why?”

  The sense of wrongness grew, until it felt like her skin crawled with it. She grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the back door. “Because I have a very bad feeling about this heat, and my bad feelings have a habit of coming true.”

  “I think—”

  She never did get to know what he thought, because at that moment the house blew apart, and a fist of air lifted them off their feet and out the windows.

  ETHAN CAUGHT A FAMILIAR SCENT AS HE WAS SNIFFING through the rotting pile of old straw dumped on the far side of the barn. Baby powder. He nosed around a bit more and found a footprint. A child-sized footprint. Hope surged, and he felt like howling in joy. She’d stood here, and not all that long ago.

  The baby-fresh smell led away from the barn, toward the dark trees ringing the farm’s boundary. But there were other prints here—a man’s prints, if the shoe size was anything to go by. They’d led Janie away from both the barn and the house, to God knows where. But why make her walk? Why not carry her?

  He followed the prints for several yards, then hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Something felt wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was—just a feeling in the air, a vibration of power that somehow tasted foul.

  And whatever it was, it was headed for the house. Kat was inside. He had to warn her.

  He took a step, but in that moment, the house literally blew apart. It wasn’t an explosion—there was no heat, no noise. One minute the house was there, the next it was in a million deadly splinters.

  Ethan froze, and for one horrible moment it felt as if something had grabbed his gut and his throat and his heart and twisted hard.

  Then he ran, past the scrambling deputies, out into a yard suddenly filled with smoke and dust and deadly wooden missiles. He sniffed the air, caught Kat’s scent, and ran as quickly as four legs could carry him to what was left of the rear of the house.

  And saw her. Bloodied, and not moving, but definitely breathing. A weight lifted off his chest, and suddenly he could breathe again.

  She lay on the ground in a ball. Her arms were scratched, her skirt rucked up and torn, her calf cut and bleeding. But she was alive, she was relatively unhurt, and that was surely a miracle.

  He pulled down her skirt with his teeth, protecting her modesty even though he wasn’t really sure if she’d care, then nudged her with his nose several times. When that got little response, he licked the side of her face, his tongue rasping against the sooty silk of her skin. She finally stirred, muttering a curse under her breath before she pushed him away.

  “Yuck, Ethan.” Though her voice was a little husky, it was strong. She uncurled, wincing a little as she stretched out her cut leg. “Now I smell like dog breath.”

  He couldn’t reply, as much as he wanted to. Couldn’t ask if she was okay. So he licked her again, this time across her lips.

  She spluttered and finally opened her eyes. “I’m okay. Will you quit it?”

  He sat back on his haunches and eyed the overeager deputy who came rushing over.

  “You okay, Miss?”

  The jerk knelt beside her, all but pawing her in his eagerness to help her into a sitting position. A growl rumbled up Ethan’s throat, and the deputy jumped back.

  “Bad dog,” she said, green eyes twinkling as she looked at him. “He’s only trying to help.”

  Yeah, and his hands just happened to brush her breasts in the process. He continued to glare at the offending deputy, and the kid swallowed. Hard.

  “Emergency services have been called. They won’t be long, Miss.”

  The deputy half rose, but she put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “How’s the sheriff?”

  “He’s conscious, like yourself, Miss.” The deputy gave Ethan another look, then pulled away from Kat’s hand and stood. “But I’ll just go double-check.”

  “That was uncalled for,” she said softly, glancing at Ethan as the deputy walked away. “Especially since you’re the one who said there’s nothing between us but sex.”

  There was nothing between them but sex. But while he was with her, he was going to make damn sure no one else was. The thought stopped him. That sounded territorial. Perhaps wolf instincts were stronger in this form. He couldn’t honestly say, because he hadn’t willingly worn this form for close to fourteen years.

  But by the same token, he didn’t want to share her. Not with anyone. Not even the slightest caress. But he couldn’t tell her that. Couldn’t tell her anything in this guise. And he couldn’t risk shifting shape just yet. Benton had apparently asked the sheriff if he could send a team down to see if there were any similarities to their kidnapping case. They were due any minute, and he just couldn’t afford to be seen.

  Kat rose stiffly, dusted off her hands, then limped over to the sheriff. Ethan followed close on her heels, and the men hovering near the sheriff seemed to sidle away, giving them space. The sheriff was up on his feet, and other than a bloody cut on his cheek and a ripped shirt, he looked none the worse for his ordeal.

  “You okay?” His voice, like Kat’s, was still a little croaky.

  She nodded. “I’m going to head back to the cabins and clean up, if you don’t mind.”

  “You don’t want those cuts checked first?”

  She waved a hand. “They’re only minor. You know whe
re I’m staying if you want to talk to me.”

  The sheriff nodded, and she walked away. The car was parked halfway down the long driveway. Ethan shifted shape as they neared it, flowing from wolf to human form in several smooth steps that belied his lack of practice. He touched her arm and stopped her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Her gaze went past him, studying the farm behind them.

  “There’s no one near to see us. Are you okay?”

  “I told you that already.” Irritation touched her voice. “And how do you know they can’t see you? You got eyes in the back of your head now?”

  “I can smell them.” As he could smell her. Taste her. On his skin. In his mouth. His gaze dropped to her lips. “Can you drive?”

  “I’ve only cut my leg. Shift shape before someone sees you. If you want to talk, wait till we get back to the cabins.”

  “I’m not going back just yet.”

  And neither was she—not until he’d tasted her more fully. His lips claimed hers, his kiss hard, demanding. Though she made a small sound of protest at the back of her throat, her lips yielded to his. His tongue savored the sweetness of her mouth as he pressed her back against the car. Her body trembled against him, her nipples hard against his chest. He slid his hand under her soft sweater, caressing their peaks as he pressed his groin against her. Wanting, needing, to get inside.

  She felt so good, so right, that he wanted to keep on tasting and touching her forever. But now was not the time, because there were scents that would not wait. He pulled back. Her breathing was as harsh as his, her pupils wide and dilated. He touched her cheek, thumbing the thin trickle of blood away.