by Ann Gimpel
She’d always been cautious, testing waters before entering them.
And look where it’s gotten me. A long, lonely life where I’m mostly alone unless I’m at work.
In a burst of spontaneity, she tilted her chin, kissed him once, and said, “Yes, but with the caveat I’ve lived alone forever, and I can be a bitch on wheels.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve seen that part. If it’s the worst you throw my way, we’re golden.”
She kissed him again. Cradling her head, he kissed her back. She’d been planning to get up, but when he urged her mouth to open with his tongue and flexed his cock, still encased in her body, she abandoned her agenda.
He broke their kiss long enough to say, “Tell me how you want us to be. Last time was my choice. This time is yours.”
“I was thinking about getting up. It must be close to dawn.”
He angled his head to one side. “Is that what you really want?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I want you. We could stay in this bed until we starved to death, and I’d die a happy woman.”
“Music to my ears, darling. We can call for takeout. Or the others can. Or Chloe and Stella can cook something. They’re the resident kitchen wizards.”
“Stella?”
“The redhead with blonde streaks. She’s mated to Raul. You’ll get everyone straight, but right now it’s a pretty low priority.”
She hip-butted him until she was on top. “How about like this? And then we’ll get up and let everyone know about us.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Renee, sweetheart, this house is filled with magic-wielders. It’s a sure bet they already do.”
She laughed again, not remembering when she’d laughed this much maybe ever. “You’ve turned my brain to pudding.”
He twitched his cock, moving slightly in and out. “So long as my trusty appendage doesn’t join it, all is well.”
She snugged her body around him, delighted by the feel of him, the smell of him, and the rightness of him inside her. Maybe there was more to astrology—and the lore books—than she realized. She’d have to tell Sarai, but later, much later.
Jeremiah drew her against him and kissed her. She kissed him back, welcoming the sexual heat as it enveloped them transporting her to another plane.
Chapter 11
A Week Later
Jeremiah was happy, happier than he remembered. Happier than anyone had a right to be, but he wasn’t questioning any of it. The mate bond was in full bloom, and he and Renee caught up in newly mated bliss. His residual angst from killing his own people was fading, but some scars cut deep, and this one would never totally go away.
He halted his wanderings around the yard to smile. He’d done a whole lot of that lately. The wonder of discovering more about his mate had pushed the previous week’s carnage to a manageable place. Not gone, but not haunting him, either.
He and Renee had made a few plans. Since she was the one with a job that required her presence in a specific place, he’d return to Montana at least long enough for her to work a few more months before giving notice. Eventually, they’d return to Colorado. It was a solid beginning, but he didn’t actually believe things would slow down enough for them to put it into action.
Not anytime soon.
What was far more likely was they’d make a trip to Montana to clear out her house, but he hadn’t given voice to that.
Renee longed for her old life, and keeping her happy was at the very top of his list. Building fantasies of the life they both wanted didn’t hurt anything. It might not happen until next year or five years down the road, but eventually they had to reach an end to the vampire and mage problems.
He suspected many mages would make the same transition he had: the one to becoming a shifter. Once kicked open, the door was unlikely to close. Unfortunately, it would do nothing but exacerbate their problems with other mages…
The back door slammed, and Niall clattered down the steps, joining him in the backyard.
“Did they throw you out too?” Jeremiah asked.
“Sure and they did. What kind of bullshit separates a man from his mate? We never did that in the Old Country.”
“You’re not remembering. They always kept us apart right before the mating ceremony. I’m surprised you and Sarai haven’t already formalized your bond.”
“Aye, and when would we have had the chance?” Niall retorted. “’Tis been one catastrophe after another. I didn’t think we’d pull off tonight’s festivities. I was certain—”
“Ssht.” Jeremiah shook his head. “Bad luck to give voice to such thoughts.” He’d been expecting a vampire attack too, but the fuckers had held off this long, so perhaps they’d have a few more hours of peace and quiet. Enough to complete the mating ritual that would bind him to Renee and Niall to Sarai.
“Probably right, mate.” He slugged Jeremiah in the arm. “Congratulations, by the way. I never got a chance to tell you what a lucky bloke you are. Renee is one of the best. Just like Sarai.”
“My cave lion said much the same thing.”
A rumbly purr rolled from his mouth. The beast was back in residence, apparently fully recovered from its brush with vampire toxin.
“Settling into your new magical affiliation?” Niall arched a dark brow.
“Hasn’t been all that much of a transition—after the first little bit when we weren’t sure of one another.”
Niall’s pleasant expression shaded to one far more somber. “I haven’t wanted to bring this up, but have any of you been in communication with your mage kin?”
“I’ve tried,” Jeremiah admitted.
“No dice?”
“About the size of it.” He blew out a tight breath. “Best I can figure is word travels fast, and everyone knows I led the charge that killed a whole lot of us.”
Niall frowned. “But they’d sold out to evil.”
“Maybe not all of them. We didn’t take the time to find out. These types of things grow with the telling, but we did draw mage fire to murder mages as they lay shackled to the ground. It’s not our way to kill our own.”
“Aye, I remember. You were separating them from their magic as punishment.” At Jeremiah’s nod, he went on. “Wouldn’t have worked. Not with what we faced.”
Jeremiah raked a hand through his hair. His fingers snagged on decorative beadwork Chloe had worked into his short locks for the wedding, and he lowered his hand. “You know that. I know that. All of us who were there understand the way things were but communicating it to someone who didn’t see what we did isn’t easy.”
“Damn near impossible if they’ve shut you out of their communication loop. Do you have a central governance of any type?”
“Nope. Not since we left the Old Country. Main reason for it there was to monitor how the war with you folks was going.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you have one?”
“Nay, but I’m trying to not leave any stone unturned. We have to open the communication channels. Every single mage is in danger. We spread the word through the shifter communities to be vigilant and warded. To take naught for granted.”
“Do you think it odd we’ve been undisturbed since we left the cave?” Jeremiah drew his brows together.
“Aye. And nay. Vamps had come to count on an infusion of magic from their mage puppets. Absent that, they probably require time to regroup.”
“Regroup, as in shanghai another passel of mages to strip mine for magic?”
Niall nodded. “I’m as sure as I’ve ever been of anything that is precisely what they’re up to. When they come after us, they’ll want to be at full power. Those cocky fuckers hate to lose, and they lost both manpower and pride.”
Respect for his mate swelled through Jeremiah, but he sobered fast. She’d outsmarted four vampires with flattery—and blinded two more—which meant they’d be on the lookout for her.
He was ready for them. Him and the lion. Those bloodsucking abominations wouldn’t hurt Renee. Not on his watch.
“Alm
ost ready, fellows,” Chloe called from the back porch and vanished back inside.
“Apologies,” Niall said. “Today is joyous. I shouldn’t have sullied it with—”
“Reality?” Jeremiah inserted dryly. “We have work to do. Lots of it, but the brunt of our tasks can wait until after our matings are official. I have a few ideas we can run down later in the week.”
“About locating other mages?”
“Yes. I know where several groups of us live in neighboring states. If they won’t respond to telepathy, we’ll have to show up in person.”
Niall pushed a clump of dark hair out of his face. “How do you know they’ll let you in or listen to you?”
Jeremiah snorted. “We’re a polite lot. They may ask me to leave, but if I request a brief audience, they’ll grant it.”
“What makes you think they’ll listen?”
“Because I can send them an image of what we encountered in the cave. They’ll recognize vampire stench all over it.” He linked an arm through Niall’s. “No more of this right now. We’re going to go inside, stand next to our mates, and pledge our hearts and souls to them.”
“Before we do,” Niall said, “Thanks for forgiving me. I value you as a friend, and I don’t say that to very many people.”
“No hard feelings. That stunt I pulled with the poison was an act of desperation. I can see how you’d view me as a reckless cowboy with no regard for anyone else who got caught up in my craziness.”
Niall snorted. “Reckless blackguard might be closer to the mark. Not many cowboys in Ireland.”
Jeremiah chuckled and led the way inside, clearing his mind of everything but the upcoming festivities. He walked through the kitchen and into the front room and stopped dead. The high-ceilinged great room had been decorated with groups of fragrant lit tapers, evergreen boughs, and extravagant flower arrangements. They must have cost a fortune this time of year. Most of the old-fashioned furniture had been pushed against the walls, creating a large, open space. Like the rest of the house, this room had oak flooring covered with Oriental rugs.
People stood in small groups, chatting softly. A few called out greetings to him and Niall.
“What do you think?” Chloe trotted to his side beaming.
“It’s beautiful.”
She nodded. “I thought so too. For once, I ordered food from a catering company. It should be here in an hour or so.”
“Who all is here, and is anyone else coming?”
“Bunches of shifters I don’t know are already here, and more are arriving every few minutes. Stephan and Sarai did an excellent job with that part of things.” She didn’t mention that her efforts to invite their mage kin were met with silence, much as his attempts to communicate with them had been spurned.
He hugged his sister. “Thank you.”
She held onto him for a long minute before letting go. “No need. It’s not every day one of us finds a mate.”
A wistful undercurrent in her voice tore at his heart. Some magic wielders married humans, but the pairings were always difficult. Knowing you’d go on the same while your partner aged and eventually died was a bitter pill. Other problems, like finding excuses for your perpetual youth, was another issue. Hiding evidence of your magic, yet a third.
“You’ll find someone,” he reassured her.
She shrugged and offered a stock answer. “If the goddess wills it.”
Music swelled from the far end of the room. Raul and Mariel played a variety of instruments. This time mellow guitar strumming was joined by the high, pure notes of a flute.
The double doors leading to a morning room opened, and Renee and Sarai walked through. Both women wore long, flowing colorful gowns with golden circlets holding their hair back and bunches of fragrant roses and lilies in their arms, but Jeremiah had eyes only for Renee.
Her golden hair hung loose creating a shining cape that spilled to her waist. Her green eyes glowed with tenderness as she latched onto his gaze. He walked toward her, meeting her midway across the room, and opened his arms, intent on embracing her without crushing the bouquet.
“Couples front and center,” Stephan boomed from in front of the fireplace. Flames crackled merrily. “I haven’t performed a mating ceremony in centuries.”
Renee slid her hand beneath his arm. “You look gorgeous. Too bad we can’t run upstairs for a quickie.”
“Hang onto that thought. The ceremony won’t last forever.”
“You don’t know Stephan.”
They walked slowly to the brick hearth that fanned out from the fireplace and took their pre-arranged spots. He and Renee were to the right. Niall and Sarai to the left.
Stephan nodded his approval and began chanting in Gaelic. Jeremiah’s eyes widened. This was the old mating ritual. The original one from when they were still one people. He offered Stephan kudos for locating it. The Internet was a grand tool for a lot of things, but magical castings and rituals—the real ones anyway—weren’t located in cyberspace.
“Repeat after me,” Stephan intoned. “First Niall and Sarai, and then Jeremiah and Renee.”
“Aye, we shall repeat your words,” the four of them said in unison.
“And now we begin,” Stephan intoned, pausing at intervals for them to recite each phrase.
“You cannot possess me for I belong to myself
But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give
You cannot command me, for I am a free person
But I shall serve you in those ways you require
and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand
I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night and
the eyes into which I smile in the morning
I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup
I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care
I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine
I shall not slander you, nor you me
I shall honor you above all others, and when we quarrel we shall do so in
private and tell no strangers our grievances
This is my wedding vow to you
This is the marriage of equals.”
“For this is the marriage of equals,” Renee said and raised eyes the color of uncut emeralds to gaze at Jeremiah. Her expression, tender and passionate, mixed into a blend uniquely hers and filled him with joy.
This was his woman. His. From now and forever more.
“Hold out your hands,” Stephan instructed.
When they did, he made small incisions in the balls of their thumbs. None of them needed further details. Jeremiah pressed his wound to Renee’s and let their blood flow together. Scribed by magic, the cut places began healing almost at once.
“It is done,” Stephan said. “By the power vested in me by the goddess, Gaia, I solemnize your matings. Bring pride upon yourselves and your progeny. Be a shining beacon to heal the rift between our people.”
Among a chorus of, “Congratulations,” and “I’ll drink to that,” Jeremiah gathered Renee into his arms and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around him and her scent, reminiscent of wildflowers and cinnamon, soothed and inflamed him by turns. His cock swelled, pressing into her belly, and he felt like he’d come home.
Someone tapped his shoulder, and Stephan said, “You’ve guests to meet, son. The two of you have all your long lives to make love.”
Renee dragged her mouth from his long enough to glance at Stephan. “Killjoy.”
Stephan laughed. “May you always be as happy and as entranced with Jeremiah as you are today. My Marie and I never lost our spark, so I know it’s possible.”
Jeremiah let go of Renee and extended his hand. Stephan grasped it. “Thank you for officiating, and for coming up with the perfect ceremony.”
“You recognized it?” Stephan furled a blond brow.
“Of course. Any of us who’ve lived long e
nough would have.”
“Over here,” Sarai called. “We’re starting a receiving line.”
The doorbell rang; Chloe sprinted for it saying, “Food’s here!” She pulled the door open, but instead of a catering company, a large group of mages strode inside and fanned out across the foyer.
Jeremiah’s joy faltered. He told Renee, “Remain here.”
“Bullcrap. Come on. Let’s see what they want.”
He wanted to protect Renee, keep her safe from harm, from ugliness, but it was her right as his mate to remain by his side if she chose. The words from their vows about honoring one another and a marriage of equals ran through his mind.
Chloe stood, hands on her hips, surveying the new arrivals. She glanced over one shoulder. “Jer?”
He loped across the room, Renee by his side, and faced his kinsmen, most of whom he recognized. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” He kept his words mild. As he’d told Niall, they were a polite people.
A medium-height mage with unruly brown hair, stubble-covered cheeks, and a burly build stepped forward. Leather leggings hugged his thighs, and a leather vest embossed with runes had been tossed atop a green woolen shirt. He trained keen dark eyes on Jeremiah.
“We heard about what happened,” he began.
Jeremiah nodded. “Good to see you, Curt, even under these circumstances. Today is my wedding day. We tried to invite you and our other mage kin”—his gaze swept the group ranged behind Curt—“but you never responded to our telepathy.”
“We heard you right enough,” another mage, Curt’s mate, Viva, joined him. As fair as he was dark, she wore a long black skirt topped by a multihued tunic.
Curt shot a pointed look her way, but she stared him down. “I’ve a right to speak my mind as well as you.”
Curt cleared his throat. “Aye, but I’m the appointed spokesperson. We all agreed.”
“Speak away.” She rolled her eyes.
“We’ve known you since before coming to the States,” Curt went on, aiming his message at Jeremiah. “None of us believed you capable of wholesale slaughter such as we heard about. Not without provocation.”
