Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  “You seem to be having a lot of those recently,” grumbled Drew, irritably. Remy’s eyes flashed. She advanced on Drew, glowering.

  “Bastian invited Remy to the midnight ceremony tomorrow night,” Cassie murmured softly.

  Grandfather held up his hand, halting Remy’s progress. “Repeat that again, Cassandra.”

  “Sebastian Ayres invited Remy to the midnight ceremony.”

  “Does he know Remy is undeveloped?”

  “Yes, I told him.”

  “And he bade her attend anyways? That is intriguing,” Grandfather stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  “But extremely bad timing,” added Drew, with a grimace.

  “Yes, it is,” Grandfather agreed.

  “Why?” inquired Cassie.

  “By breaking the banishment early, Cassandra, you damaged the protection surrounding Remina. Every spell we cast will disintegrate within the next twenty-four hours and Remy will receive her birthright.”

  “She is not ready to defend herself,” interjected Drew, exasperated. “You put her in unimaginable peril, Cassie.”

  “Wait,” Remy spun around glaring at her grandfather. “I thought Mother cast the banishment?”

  Sadness washed over Grandfather’s wrinkled face. “She did; I cast the binding the same day your birth mother relinquished you to me.”

  “Nadine?”

  “Yes,” confirmed Grandfather. “Nadine Bonnay. She begged me to protect you, thrust you into my arms. I looked down into your sweet, innocent face and I could not refuse her request.”

  “You kept me from receiving my gifts, you let me suffer as an outcast my entire life, you blamed me for killing Father,” accusations tumbled from Remy’s shocked mouth.

  “You did kill him,” Grandfather’s gray eyes flashed. “At thirteen years of age, your gifts were far too powerful for your father to control, but he stubbornly tried. You caused his heart attack.”

  Remy’s face crumbled.

  “I am partially to blame as well,” added Grandfather with a heavy sigh. “I never should have forced you to attempt any magic, but I was curious. I could feel the power coursing through you; I knew you would be great, just like Nadine.” A tear slid down his nose. “I should have waited. By the time your mother and I intervened and bound you again, it was too late. Your father succumbed to his injuries.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Remy’s soft question, filled with heartache, floated through the tiny apartment.

  “It was safer to hide the truth.” Grandfather sighed deeply. He shuffled to Cassie’s sofa and sank down onto one of the cushions. Drew remained stationed in the hallway, his arms crossed. Grandfather took a breath and his rough voice filled the room.

  “The year of your birth was a celebratory time in our community; four queens were born – future leaders of our clans. However, the merriment quickly turned to fear. The first infant sacrificed was Abigail Draper, her body was displayed on a stone alter in Boston, with the heart cut out and burned; she was not two months old. The authorities discovered her entire family slaughtered in their beds. The next night the Smiths were attacked; the crime scene mirrored the Draper’s, except this attack occurred in San Francisco. Then a third attack in New Orleans on the Lavallee family; again, there were no survivors. Thankfully, none of the children sacrificed were part of the royal line, however panic ensued.

  Concerned for the safety of the future queens, the heads of the families came together secretly and determined it best to hide the as many children as possible until the siege subsided, thus the reason your mother approached me.”

  “Where are the other girls?” Remy wondered quietly, lost in her swirling thoughts.

  “Some have received their gifts and are currently coven members; others, like you, were bound and remain hidden,” Grandfather explained. “However, due to Cassandra’s meddling, you will be exposed much sooner than we anticipated.”

  Sinking to the floor, Remy rocked back and forth, numbness seeped into her bones. Cassie dropped next to her, whispering softly in her ear. “No, Cassie,” Remy muttered through the anaesthetizing haze, waving a hand in her direction.

  “Fine,” she murmured curtly and released Remy’s shoulders. Cassie rose and moved languidly across the room, perching next to Grandfather on the couch. “I only wanted to help,” she sulked.

  Drew scooted behind Remy, slipping his hands under her arms and lifting her to her feet. She twisted in his grasp and shoved his chest hard. “You don’t ever get touch me again,” Remy snarled.

  He backed away, his hands open in a friendly gesture. “Remy,” he placated, “all of this was done for your protection.”

  “Stop!” Remy shouted, backing away. “Stop using that as an excuse, each one of you lied to me!” she sucked in a ragged breath. “How can I trust any of you?” She gestured at the room in general.

  The walls shimmered, closing tightly around her. Gasping for air, Remy fled, shoving past Drew and dashing down the wooden staircase before any of them could react. Darting across the street, a squeal grated her ears. Staring at the approaching headlights, Remy flung her arms up and braced for the bite of metal. The car skidded, stopping an inch from her legs; a burning smell of rubber assaulted her nose.

  “What the hell!” a deep voice roared; Sebastian climbed from the car. “I could have killed you! What were you thinking?”

  Remy froze, paralyzed like a deer in front of his headlights. He approached rapidly, his eyes widening as he recognized her. Easing his warm hands around her face, Sebastian cupped her trembling chin gently, raising it to his smoldering gaze. “Remy, is everything alright?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, trying to slow her heart.

  Sebastian shook his head. “Try again,” he recommended softly.

  “No,” Remy admitted, glancing between his car and the apartment; her ear twitched at a sound. The unmistakable clunk of Drew’s heavy boots on the wooden staircase reverberated across the empty street. Ignoring the unease which accompanied the realization of her newly sharpened hearing, Remy turned to Sebastian, her eyes pleading. “Would you be willing to assist a damsel in distress again?”

  Sebastian grinned and bowed jauntily. “Emergency transportation?”

  “Yes,” Remy replied, dashing to the passenger seat of his car, she popped the door and quickly hopped into the darkness.

  Sebastian followed swiftly. “Where to, milady?” he teased playfully.

  “Anywhere but here.”

  “Easily done.” The engine revved and they disappeared into the early morning, a cloud of exhaust the only evidence of their departure.

  “Are you hungry?” he inquired nonchalantly. “I happen to know the best kitchen in town,” he wiggled his eyebrows dramatically.

  “Famished,” answered Remy with a grin.

  Chapter Four

  “WHY DID YOU almost hit me?” Remy asked, distracted by familiar houses whipping past her window; childish peals of laughter echoed from her memory.

  “You ran in front of my car,” he retorted indignantly; his heated glare skated sideways. “You’re lucky I managed to stop.”

  Remy rotated a quarter-turn in her seat, scrutinizing his face. “Yes, but why were you there, at that hour?”

  “You left something in my car,” grinned Sebastian.

  “What?”

  “These.” He tossed the lacey, pink thong in Remy’s direction.

  “You missed the part where I told you I hate this color,” Remy flushed, wadding them into a tiny ball and throwing them into the backseat.

  Sebastian smirked. “Nope, I remembered, but returning this inappropriate gift seemed the perfect excuse to see you again.”

  His arm snaked out and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes; Remy shivered under his touch. His irises glowed brightly – a brilliant cobalt fire. Sebastian retracted his hand and placed it resolutely on the steering wheel. Silently, he drove down a dirt road off the main street; his hands unconsciously kneading the leather
wheel between his fingers.

  A tiny house appeared in his headlights, illuminated between two gargantuan white oak trees; the first in a forest expanding outward behind the house. Sebastian inched up the long drive, carefully avoiding holes and rocks scattered along the path. Turning to Remy, he gestured toward the cottage with flourish.

  “We are here.”

  She glanced out the window and forced a nervous smile; her eyes raked over the house. Remy gnawed on her lower lip, hesitating. “When you said you were taking me to the best kitchen in town, I didn’t realize you meant your home.”

  Sebastian laughed pleasantly, patting Remy’s hand. “This isn’t my home.”

  “You are breaking into someone else’s house to cook breakfast?” she asked incredulously, an eyebrow floated close to her hairline.

  “Of course not,” scoffed Sebastian. “This is my grandmother’s house. She bakes the most delicious anadama bread. People line up outside her bakery every morning just to purchase a loaf.”

  “Does it compare to the bakery directly below Cassie’s apartment, because that smell has been wafting into her living room for the past few hours?”

  “That is Grandmother’s bakery,” winked Sebastian, “her assistant begins baking around two in the morning to meet the demand.” He rose fluidly from the car and appeared at Remy’s door, offering his hand.

  “Will she mind our early morning visit?” Remy asked tentatively; her hand found its way into his warm grasp.

  “She is already expecting us.” He tugged playfully, pulling her from the car. Pinned between the car door and his body, Remy squirmed against his heat. Sebastian grinned wolfishly, gripping her hips as he pressed into her. Leaning close, he inhaled her scent; his tongue darted across her lips.

  Remy moaned, biting her lower lip. “I thought your grandmother was expecting us,” she managed.

  Sebastian’s eyes burned blue fire. “We are a few minutes early.”

  His mouth descended, stealing her breath. Hungrily, he devoured her lips, his tongue demanding and urgent. His hands slid down her torso, igniting flames along his wayward path. Roughly, he wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as he continued his ravenous assault.

  “Sebastian,” Remy murmured against him. Her hands twisted around his neck, entwined greedily in his hair. She pulled him nearer. Nipping along her collarbone, Sebastian sank his teeth lightly in the base of her throat.

  “Sebastian.”

  They glanced up simultaneously, breaking apart. The word, spoken as clearly as if the woman stood next to them, echoed across the grove of trees.

  Reluctantly, Sebastian set Remy on the ground. He stepped away with a moan, his frustration evident. “We need to stop,” he rumbled, allowing the cool air to dance between them. His lips brushed a feathery kiss across her forehead; Remy swallowed.

  “Ow,” she rubbed at a spot on her neck, glancing at Sebastian peculiarly, “did you bite me?”

  “Sort of,” he admitted, not the least bit apologetic; his lips twitched into a half-grin.

  “Cassie will have your head.”

  He paused, pretending to mull over Remy’s comment and shrugged boyishly. “I can live with that option.”

  “I don’t think Cassie intends for you to survive her wrath.”

  A wicked grin appeared; he shrugged. “Well, I did try to stay away.”

  Remy tilted her head, studying him. “What happened?”

  He leaned closer, his breath tickling her lips. “I cannot get the taste of you out of my mind,” he confessed, grazing his lips across hers. A tiny groan escaped.

  “That is not a good thing,” Remy murmured, eyes half-closed, her face instantly turned toward his. “I suffer from the exact same affliction. We might be in serious trouble.”

  “That is a matter of opinion,” he replied huskily; vibrations shot through her skin like electricity. He crushed his mouth against hers, sending sparks surging across her lips; her stomach flipped twice.

  “Sebastian!” The second call, sharp and irritated, snapped through the air. Sebastian released Remy immediately.

  “My grandmother is waiting,” he elucidated. Fingers entwined with hers, Sebastian led Remy across the dark veranda, past a row of worn, wooden rocking chairs. He unlatched a screen door and led her into the kitchen, which smelled of freshly baked bread.

  Immediately engulfed in the kitchen’s warmth, Remy relaxed, glancing around the room. A stack of pots soaked in soapy water, cloth-covered mixing bowls of varying color lined the counter, and a stack of bread pans waited on a flour-covered island, centered in the middle of the kitchen. In the corner, an oak table set with eight place settings, waited expectantly.

  “How many people live here?” Remy’s hushed voice barely fractured the silence.

  “Just my grandmother,” he whispered back, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

  “Bienvenue, mes chers,” saluted a nasal voice. Emanating from the shadows, it ricocheted off the kitchen tiles, circling around Remy invitingly. A petit woman, not more than five feet tall, shuffled into view; her face dusted with flour. She stretched up on her toes to greet Sebastian, planting a heavily perfumed kiss on each cheek.

  “Remy, I’d like to introduce you to my grandmother, Madame Freda Tobain,” Sebastian announced formally. Before Remy could respond with a greeting, several French words dripped from his lips in rapid staccato; his blue eyes burned brightly.

  His grandmother glanced at him, pensively. “Sur la table,” she replied, gracefully indicating a room beyond the kitchen.

  Sebastian raised Remy’s hand to his mouth. “I will return in a few moments,” his lips nibbled across her knuckles, sending flames searing up her arm. He sighed heavily and disappeared behind the velvet curtain separating the rooms.

  The tiny woman watched Remy expectantly, studying her as one would study a bug under a microscope; sharp sapphire eyes blinked rapidly behind black rimmed spectacles. She gestured to one of two stools next to the island.

  “Tu t’appelles?” she asked politely after Remy perched on the edge of the nearest chair.

  “Remina Vasile,” she answered courteously, guessing at the question.

  “Vraiment?” Madame Tobain breathed incredulously. “La fille de Madame Vasile?” The thick accent, paused at the end of each word, as though she were still smoking the cigarettes she quit years ago. She stroked a weathered thumb down the side of Remy’s cheek; her eyes widened. Retracting her hand as if scalded, Madame Tobain glared at Remy questioningly; the intricately twisted pile of dark gray curls barely wobbled atop her head.

  “Are you certain?” she asked skeptically.

  “Yes, completely, Madame Tobain,” Remy responded automatically.

  “Please, call me Freda,” she indicated herself with a flour covered hand.

  “You speak English!” Remy accused, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

  “On occasion,” she flashed a quick grin, which disappeared quickly behind a fabric of wrinkles. “Taste some bread,” she recommended with a mischievous tone, pushing a plate of warm anadama bread across the counter, “you must be hungry after your long trip.”

  “How did you know?” asked Remy, selecting a steaming slice.

  “Are you teasing Remy, Grandmother?” a deep voice shot tingles down Remy’s spine. Sebastian materialized again, casually leaning against the door frame; the velvet drape rippled behind him.

  “No,” she drawled and winked.

  Sebastian flowed across the room, joining Remy at the island. Plucking a piece of warm bread from the plate, he collapsed on the available stool. His arm bumped against Remy, reigniting the fire still smoldering beneath her skin. Remy leaned into his heat.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” he murmured, “she can see the future.”

  “One version of the future,” she corrected automatically, regarding Sebastian sternly over her spectacles. “Did you find your answer?” she asked, a cryptic question in her casual tone.

 
“I did,” he confirmed with a nod, popping the piece of bread into his mouth.

  “Which was?” Freda pressed. Her hand locked around Sebastian’s wrist, yanking it across the counter.

  “It was,” he paused a moment, holding her gaze, “as you expected.” Sebastian bowed his head to his grandmother; she released her grip and resumed shaping a lump of dough. Her eyes flicked toward Remy, sapphire orbs gleaming. A car door slammed outside, followed in quick succession by two more bangs; a symphony of cacophony.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Remy swallowed her chunk of bread nervously; it stuck in her throat. She coughed, sending crumbs flying over the island. Remy’s head swiveled, quickly assessing the exits in the kitchen.

  Freda shook her head - a sluggish right to left movement – as if saying the time to escape passed. She turned her attention to the screen door, wiped her hands on a small towel lashed to her waist and waited expectantly. One moment later, Grandfather, Cassie, and Drew burst into the kitchen.

  “Remy!” Cassie screamed in relief. She flew across the hardwood floor, careening into Remy. In her exuberance, Cassie’s arm struck the platter of bread, knocking it off the counter; it hit the floor at the same moment as Remy and shattered into minute pieces, scattering bread across the kitchen. Cassie landed atop Remy with a grunt, refusing to release her grip around Remy’s waist.

  “Don’t ever do that to me again! You cannot just run off whenever you feel like it, Remy, especially not now,” she chastised.

  Remy detangled herself from Cassie’s boisterous grasp. Rolling onto her knees; Remy winced as shards of ceramic ground into her skin.

  “How did you find me?” Remy grimaced, flopping onto her butt to inspected the pin-pricks in knees. She extracted three large ceramic slivers.

  “We didn’t,” admitted Cassie, picking crumbs from her hair. “Grandfather insisted we speak with Freda as soon as you disappeared.” Glancing down at the ceramic fragments scattered across the floor, Cassie scooped up the pieces and placed them on the island. “Sorry, Freda,” she murmured contritely.