Sanctuary, Texas Complete Series Box Set

by Krystal Shannan

  Karly copied the toddler, and Garrett regarded me with a questioning look. The baby yelled, and he quickly put her on the floor, as well. She tottered a few steps before dropping with a plop to her bottom. It didn’t slow her down. Seconds later, she was crawling toward Isis.

  “This isn’t so hard,” Garrett said, sitting down on the floor next to the girls and crossing his legs. He picked up a toy airplane and flew it around the air. Both girls clapped their hands and giggled.

  I smiled. Maybe we can do this.

  Only the gods knew I’d spoken to soon.

  Isis got up a few minutes later and started walking around the room. She looked like she was inspecting the furniture at first, but then she went behind the rocking chair, and a very distinct smell hit my nostrils.

  “Isis!” We both jumped up, and the toddler ran out from behind the chair.

  Garrett caught her and held her body out away from his as she continued to scrunch up her legs and face. “Dude, she’s still going!”

  “What are you telling me for?” I pointed to the hallway. “Take her to the toilet.”

  He ran with her, holding her body away from his.

  “Get in here and help me!” he shouted.

  I glanced at Karly, who had watched the entire exchange silently, although I was quite sure there was a smile in her eyes that said we’d be doing the same thing with her momentarily. “Stay,” I said, pointing at the toys.

  Darting down the hall, I turned into the bathroom and saw Garrett holding Isis above the toilet.

  “Take off her pants, man. I’ve only got two arms.”

  “Okay,” I grabbed the toddler’s shorts and tugged them off. The diaper was another matter.

  “The tabs on the side. Bella said those were like Velcro,” he advised, wrinkling his nose.

  The smell was indeed getting worse. I pulled the tabs and removed the diaper. Poop rolled from inside it and hit the bathroom floor with an ominous plop plop plop. Everywhere but inside the toilet.

  “By the gods!” Garrett shouted. “Couldn’t you have at least directed it into the bowl?

  A burst of female laughter from the hallway turned both our heads. Charlie was wrapped in my blue terry-cloth bathrobe and was expertly balancing Karly on a hip using only one arm. Her other arm was hanging onto the doorframe trying to keep herself from doubling over.

  The laughter made her face turn red. She tried to speak, but no intelligible words came out before another roll of laughter took her over.

  “I’m done,” Isis said, kicking her legs in the air.

  Garrett snorted. “You think!” He pushed her toward me, and I shook my head.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Dude, you either clean her or clean the floor.”

  My eyes drifted to the formless brown globs on the bathroom floor and then back to the struggling toddler. I was less afraid of the shit.

  “You keep her,” I said.

  All the while Charlie continued to laugh her ass off in the hallway, trying to talk but not having any breath to do so efficiently. Her humor wasn’t annoying; the situation was probably that of a three-ring-circus in her opinion. Plus, just hearing her laugh instead of cry was worth cleaning up Isis’ poop every day of the week. Although, I rather hoped it didn’t become a habit.

  Garrett groaned, but carefully stepped over a glob and exited the bathroom with the toddler held at arms’ length from his body. I turned back to the floor and swallowed down the disgust rising from my gut. It smelled worse than a decomposing animal. What in the world did this child eat?

  Once the bathroom floor was cleaned up, I joined them in the nursery, formerly Garrett’s bedroom. It was hard to believe it’d had his things in it only a few hours ago. Now it was a baby kingdom.

  “Use the wipes and hold her legs up with your other hand,” Charlie’s voice carried from across the room. She was hovering around the diaper table-thing. Isis was lying on top of it, and Garrett was doing his best to wrestle two weaving legs and clean her bum at the same time.

  I chuckled and leaned against the doorframe. This was what life should be. Not fighting armies and crazy psychopathic lunatics. It should be about family and chasing a toddler about to poop in her diaper. These were the moments that started something new.

  “Now fold the new diaper between her legs… yes… and use the tabs to hook it in place. Good!” She rubbed Garrett’s arm, and I felt her pride in him over such a small thing. His excitement over the accomplishment flooded our bond with joy. Joy over success with a diaper.

  “Down, down!” Isis squealed. Garrett lifted her from the table and set her on the floor. She ran back toward the toys wearing only a shirt and diaper.

  “Her pants,” Garrett said, his eyes wide with embarrassment for the child who didn’t look like she had a care in the world.

  “She’s fine. I’ll dress her later. Just let her play,” Charlie said. She bent over and put Karly on the floor and watched her crawl back to the toy corner.

  Garrett slid an arm around Charlie’s waist and hugged her close. “Sorry we woke you.”

  “It was worth it,” she answered, flashing him a smile and then me. She held out an arm, inviting me to join them.

  I crossed the room and stood with them. “It was pretty funny, wasn’t it?”

  “My dear brave, wonderful mates, it was the funniest thing I’ve seen in my entire life.” She leaned her head against my shoulder and sighed.

  “What are we going to do when there’s another?” Garrett asked, his voice carrying more than a little fear.

  I swallowed. Another one?

  “They’ll equal us in numbers. And how do you hold one with one arm like you were doing? Is it even possible to hold both of them at once?” Garrett rapid-fired the questions.

  Charlie moved her head from my shoulder to his and patted the front of his chest with her palm.

  “I love you.”

  “But what about—”

  “Shhhhh,” she said, pressing a finger to his lips. “Just enjoy the moment.”

  I pressed a kiss to her temple and moved across the room, sinking to the floor next to the two children. She was right.

  Moments like these were for savoring.

  Flashes where everything was good.

  Everyone was safe and happy.

  Everyone could feel the love in the room.

  Isis crawled over onto my lap and leaned against my chest. She didn’t say anything. She just was there with me, sharing the magick that flowed between us. Our mate bond was growing, expanding to include the children. It wrapped around each of us like a comforting blanket. Peaceful. Calm.

  Charlie and Garrett sat down next to me, and Karly crawled into Garrett’s lap and beamed up at him.

  I met Charlie’s gaze and smiled.

  A perfect moment, no matter how fleeting, was still perfect when it happened.

  I hope you enjoyed MY WARRIOR WOLVES!

  Thank you for spending time with me in my world. Please consider leaving a short review. Each one helps tremendously.

  XOXO

  Krystal Shannan

  Turn the page to read part of book 6, MY GUARDIAN GRYPHON!

  CHAPTER ONE

  GRETCHEN

  “What about this one,” I asked, my voice filled with a hope he didn’t notice. He never noticed. I could choose the most romantic story in the Blackmoor’s enormous library, and he would still look at me like I was the eleven-year-old girl who’d asked him a random history question fifteen years ago.

  His wide brow wrinkled over amber-colored eyes that shimmered with flecks of gold. He was a man women dreamed about. At least I dreamed about him.

  Tall. Dark. Mysterious. Broad shoulders melted into a tapered waist and narrow hips. Muscles went on for miles, muscles that I wanted to touch and feel against my naked skin. My stomach clenched and rolled. Lower in my body, a steady hum and throb started, growing with the ache inside I felt every time we were together. It’d gotten wors
e with each passing year.

  By the gods, Gretchen, get a hold of yourself.

  “Antony and Cleopatra?” The inflection of his voice carried surprise, and the words were spaced out, like he’d had to stop and think between the names.

  I glanced up from the time-aged book. Not surprised. Even from across the expansive room he could read the embossed gold title on the cover like it was only inches from his face—he had telescopes for eyes. He never missed anything.

  Except what was right in front of him. I could probably wrap my naked body in a clear shower curtain and he’d still be oblivious.

  “It’s one of the most classical romances of that time period.” I emphasized the word romance, hoping to lead his mind in that direction. I’d never give up. Even if it took my whole life to make him notice me.

  “Cleopatra was a…” His voice sharpened, filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite pin down. Irritation. Annoyance. Disbelief. “She was a smart woman, but she only loved herself. Both Caesar and Marc Antony fell for her wiles. Perhaps it did look like a love story from the outside, but from the inside, the only thing you could see was her cold, calculating heart.” He sat on our favorite couch and watched me expectantly. I half-expected him to pat the seat cushion and call me over. But he didn’t. He just sat there—waiting. Frustratingly patient and oblivious as ever.

  Well, that didn’t work. Stupid Cleopatra. Instead of associating her with romance, he’s all bristled and annoyed. “So you’re saying Shakespeare got the story wrong?” I flipped through the worn pages of the classic. The smell of aged, stale paper had long since become a staple. My life revolved around escaping my quarters in the basement level of the castle. The library had started out a childhood fascination with history—humans—and a way to escape the mundane tasks the Sisters were constantly participating in—gardening, meditating, learning how to copulate to encourage fertilization.

  On and on and on.

  I didn’t get out of all the required studies, but I’d missed enough over the years that many of the Sisters were more than aware that I actively refused to participate in the destiny laid out for us thousands of years ago by the Lamassu—an ancient supernatural race more powerful than any other on Earth. A destiny that included giving myself to a stranger every weekend until I became pregnant. The House of Lamidae’s sole purpose was to procreate to increase the power of our collective visions—visions that would lead us to the eight Protectors. Vampire warriors who Rose—the Lamassu Sentinel who’d been protecting our House for thousands of years—would use to fulfill the prophecy.

  Bile rose in my throat, and I took a deep breath, willing it back down into my stomach where it belonged. I put a hand on the end of the bookshelf and exhaled. My stomach calmed, and the urge to vomit no longer waited anxiously behind my tongue.

  “Are you unwell, Gretchen?” The concern in his voice gave light to my flickering hope. But I wanted more. More than just the concern of a friend.

  “I’m fine,” I answered, trying to purposefully sound more upbeat than I felt.

  “You look a little green.”

  Seriously? I am not green. “I’m fine. Please read Cleopatra’s story.” Living in a town filled with ancient immortals had its perks. They’d experienced it. Breathed air with many of the people in the books I’d read over the years. “How well did you know her?”

  “Not personally, but I heard much about her from others in her employ. It was difficult to live in that time and not know about her.”

  “You’re better than any book in this library. You know that, right?”

  He blinked, raising his eyebrows. His lips parted for a moment before he closed them again. Closed off the emotion he’d let slip through the armor he permanently wore.

  “We’re lucky the Blackmoor’s saved what they did during the American Riots. Most of the books here are the only copies left in North America. Oral testimony will never compare with the written word.”

  “I know. I know. Supernaturals are the only ones who raced to save history while the American people just eradicated everything—knowledge, individuality, expression. You’ve reminded me many times.” When I’d first come across Alek Melos relaxing in a corner of Miles and Eli Blackmoor’s library, I’d desired nothing more than the truth—an answer to a single question about what had torn apart the United States. I’d gotten so much more.

  He’d told me which stories were real and which stories weren’t. What events had led to the downfall of one of the most powerful countries on Earth? So strange to think there were other worlds. Well—at least two. Earth and Veil.

  Still, my mind wondered if there could be even more. I’d asked him once and he’d shrugged, saying he hadn’t heard of any others.

  “If you don’t like discussing Cleopatra, I can pick something else.” The stories used to be what drew me to the library day after day to learn everything I could from the quiet man I’d grown to care so deeply for. But now the stories were just the ancillary reason I went to the library. Now I desired something else completely.

  I wanted to see Alek. Be next to him. Feel his touch. I wanted to belong to him. Something deep inside me sang every time we were in the same room. Joy filled me when we touched.

  “It is a good tale. We should still read it.”

  “She committed suicide by snake. Was that real?” I walked across the room, enjoying the plushness of the Persian carpets covering the floor, and sank down onto the couch cushion next to Alek. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling window behind us were drawn back with silken cords thicker than my wrists, and the afternoon light spilled in on my shoulders.

  Alek’s body, hard as the stone walls of this castle, burned hotter than the sunlight against the skin of my arm, but I leaned closer anyway. My mind automatically readied to receive the vision I always saw when I touched him, but I pushed it away this time.

  Controlling my gift was something I’d mastered years ago. Some of the Sisters never learned to turn the switch on and off, but I had and took full advantage of not seeing things every time I touched someone or something. I pitied those of my sisters, who had to endure visions of past, present, and future any and every time they touched another being.

  My past, present, and future was sitting right next to me. He just didn’t know it yet, or if he did, he was doing a fine job of concealing it.

  I crossed my legs on the silky brocade couch cushion and let my dress pool in the gap between them. The men who came to the castle for the joinings were always telling me my legs were long and beautiful, but I wanted Alek to notice them, not strangers there to ogle my body in hopes that I’d pick them for a joining.

  Only Alek.

  Only his hands would ever touch my body. That’d been my vow from the second I’d first had the vision of us together three years ago.

  “She did,” Alek answered. His rich, velvety bass tone drew me out of my bouncing thoughts. “She was to be captured. Taken prisoner. She was proud and cornered.” His deep voice rumbled from the center of his chest, sending little fiery darts of joy straight to my nervous system. I loved listening to him speak.

  These meetings in the library were the only thing that had kept me sane in this prison of stone through the last decade. Alek was my light. My hope. I still remembered the day I’d first met him, and it made me smile.

  He pressed his lips together just slightly before speaking. “What are you thinking about?” His gaze bore into me, steady and strong, piercing straight through to my heart.

  “The day I met you.” I kept my tone soft, doing my best to hide the desire I knew would stream out of me like an overflowing bath if ever given the chance. “I remember wondering why people thought you were scary.”

  His eyes widened again. “You didn’t find me frightening?” His mouth remained flat, but his dark brown eyes sparkled with amusement.

  My destiny had been chosen for me the day I was born. I wanted to tell him how much I hated it. How much more I wanted. I wanted to throw mysel
f into his arms and tell him about my vision of us together. The perfect picture of the future that appeared to me every time I touched him.

  “Never.” I shook my head. “You were big and gruff, but you were kind. You took the time to answer the questions of a child who sought the truth. And you kept answering my questions. You keep teaching me, even now.” I looked down to the carpet and breathed away the dampness in my eyes. I pressed my lips together and fought for control of my emotions. He made it look so easy, but it wasn’t for me. My emotions leaked like sieve from inside to outside where everyone could see everything.

  I’d forsaken all for the man who’d stolen my heart, and he didn’t even know it. He had me. My whole heart. My mind. My everything would be his if only he…asked.

  He cared for me. I knew he did.

  I could feel it every time we spoke. Every time we touched. It could be so much more.

  Everyone in the town watched out for me and the other Sisters of Lamidae. They protected us. Died for us. We were the chosen ones, the seers who needed to be shielded from everyone and everything. But Alek cared more. He had to. He spent so many hours with me—reading, talking, discussing things about his world I would never see. Because I would never be free from this castle.

  “I’m glad our time together has been good. Reading with you is very… rewarding.”

  His words jarred me from my thoughts. Rewarding? I wanted to scream that I loved him. Wanted to ask him how he could just sit by and let me battle Rose and the Sisters and everything around me. I wanted to ask him about that pause in his response, too. Had I missed something? Had he shown me affection in a way I’d missed?

  But I didn’t ask. I let it go.

  The Sisters of Lamidae could see the future, and that was dangerous because people would use us to further their agendas—specifically Xerxes, Rose’s brother-in-law, the only other Lamassu alive. He’d murdered his own brother and made it his mission in life to steal the Sisters from Rose. On and on the warnings rattled from the older Sisters. From Rose herself. We were too valuable to be allowed any rights, any freedom.