“Sounds like it.”
Aislinn sighed into the phone while leaning on the counter behind the register at Strange Brew. No one was around that morning, and because she'd finished all of her cleaning chores early, she'd taken the time to call her cousin in Massachusetts and explain everything that had happened since she'd met Troy Ashland.
Or maybe not explain so much as rant.
The evening she'd banished Russell was the last they'd spent in relative harmony. Ever since, tension had been brewing with each passing day, and it was all because of that damned ritual.
Not that Troy was pushing her to get closer—quite the opposite in fact. He hadn't touched her once since she'd made the request that he keep his hands to himself, and it didn't seem to be easy for him. During their movie that night in her apartment, she'd noticed the werewolf reaching for her on occasion as if wanting to pull her in, but then he'd stop himself short like he'd just remembered her stipulation, and that was as close as he ever came.
Each time it happened, a part of her was filled with admiration—and disappointment—almost literally able to feel her defenses slowly crumbling until she wanted to sit closer all on her own, cuddle into his side, and just enjoy his company. Sadly, cuddling would've quickly led to other things she was meticulously trying to avoid.
When the movie was over, she renewed the protection wards on her shop, and the effort was just as easily accomplished as casting the banishing spell on Russell. Aislinn paid close attention to Troy's presence during the process to try determining if he was actually a familiar or not—and she definitely sensed a mystical connection to him.
It seemed premature to announce it as a fact before she was completely certain, however, but the chances were definitely good. So not only was the werewolf interesting, dedicated, witty, and damned sexy, he also helped her to feel more confident about her magic. The combination had increased Aislinn's interest to the point that she could barely stop thinking about him, let alone resist the temptation of getting a little self-induced satisfaction.
And making matters worse, Troy visited Strange Brew on a daily basis.
Heather liked him, claiming he was both hot and a suiting match for her employer. She even offered to watch the shop so Aislinn could take off and go somewhere with him one afternoon.
If the time was right, Aislinn would've done just that, and even paid Heather overtime for her help. But the chemistry between herself and Troy was too sexual for her to feel comfortable being alone with him for very long, and not because she didn't trust him—he'd proven himself by refusing to touch her until she invited it.
Instead, she didn't trust herself.
Meditations no longer helped with her sexual frustration, and she'd even had a few vague dreams about deciding to forgo the ritual in order to have sex with the werewolf. Thankfully, they'd ended before getting too steamy, but it was enough to leave her yearning.
As a result, Aislinn felt like a walking time bomb ready to go off at any second—and Troy was the trigger.
Of course, this caused her to be decidedly clipped whenever he visited her shop, and because his flirty comments drove her crazy, all they did was argue.
Aislinn even attempted to compromise by offering to let him take her out after her birthday had passed if he stayed away until then. But that made Troy even more curious about her resistance, and somehow, the more questions he asked, the less she wanted to tell.
Maybe it was silly to keep the ritual a secret, but for some strange reason, she simply couldn't get the words out of her mouth. Aislinn had even considered getting his help with the sex part of the endeavor, though not at length because the mere thought drew a heavy well of lust through her body.
Spending an evening with Troy on a pallet of furs next to a fire while worshiping every inch of his sculpted body was the most erotic thing she could imagine. Not to mention a really nice way to spend my twenty-fifth birthday.
But would having ritualistic sex with a werewolf who viewed her as his mate be a bad idea? Aislinn was so wound up she couldn't figure it out.
“You know, your birthday's only two days away,” Annika mentioned on the other end as if knowing what her cousin was thinking—and it wouldn't be the first time.
“Yeah, but it's gonna feel like two months all over again with him around.”
Her cousin snorted. “Have you thought about getting Troy to help with your ritual.”
“Actually, I did, I'm just not sure I should ask. He thinks of me as his mate, so I don't know if it's a good idea to do something that might lead him on if you know what I mean. He could think I'm trying to start something, and that's not exactly why I'd be asking.”
“Are you being picky?”
“No, just careful.” On a more serious tone, she added, “Troy's not like anyone I've ever met before, Annika. I feel better when he's around, and it's easy to talk to him, or,” she groaned, “maybe I'm just so damned starved for attention that I'm imagining things. But there is something I haven't told you yet.”
“You think he's your familiar?”
“Yeah,” Aislinn confirmed, “and it doesn't make this any easier to figure out.”
Annika was quiet for a moment, then suggested, “You probably shouldn't worry so much about how things will go. Didn't your reading say you'd be the love of his life?”
“That's different. I don't trust my skills reading for non-humans. Besides, even if I am gonna be the love of his life, how do I say oh hey, Troy, I need to have ritualistic sex to gain power, care to help out?”
Annika laughed, “Yeah, that would be kinda awkward. Does Miranda know about him?”
“Yeah, I talked to her yesterday, and she wants to meet him. So I wouldn't be surprised to see her here soon, probably with your mom.”
“Nah, I talked to Mom earlier. She's running some errands today, and won't be back home until this evening.”
Aislinn would've asked what kinds of errands her aunt was doing, but in the middle of Annika's phrase, Troy showed up outside the shop.
Sighing, she muttered, “Shit, he's here. I'll call you back later, okay?”
“Alright. I have some studying to do anyway. Have fun!”
Aislinn smiled, putting the phone down as the bells on the door chimed with Troy's entrance. She could only wonder how long it might take for him to start prying for information this time around, and glanced over at the clock on the wall to realize he'd actually shown up later today than usual.
“It's already noon, did you sleep in or something?” she asked dryly.
He grinned, making his way to the counter with a confident gait, retorting, “Let me take you out tonight to make up for it.”
And here we go. Remaining hunched over the counter with her chin propped in her palm, she grumbled, “Troy, you know I'm not interested in any dates right now.”
“And I know you're not being completely honest. So what would it hurt?”
Me, she thought with a sour expression. Just looking at him in that tight shirt and those damned jeans was making her ache. She could imagine doing so many things to him, and not a single one was innocent.
“Why can't you just wait like I asked?” she muttered.
“Because you still haven't explained why it makes any difference. Besides, your birthday's only two days away.”
Aislinn wished it was that simple, and wondered again if keeping the ritual quiet was actually so important. He'd either accept it, or deny it—but that was the problem.
If he offered to help, she'd accept in a heartbeat. Aislinn was completely unashamed of her attraction to him, and saying he was her familiar, it would help the ritual to be successful.
But on the other hand, what if he rejected her for some unexpected reason? The idea of how disappointed she'd be spoke volumes of her interest, making it difficult to look at ritualistic sex with him as merely a fling with no strings attached—and she needed to see it that way if only because she didn't want to fuck this up.
So instead of explaining, she dodged the topic by asking, “Don't you have anything else to do besides hang around here? Aren't you still working on renovations?”
“My cousins are on it,” he started. “So no, I don't have much to do but hang around and try charming you.”
Aislinn rolled her eyes, standing up straight when Troy leaned against the counter across from her, and her expression must've hit a soft spot because he suddenly muttered in irritation, “I know you don't hate me, so why do you look like you wanna gut me?”
Frustrated, she snapped, “I'm just really starting to resent this situation, Troy.”
“Why?”
Just tell him, Aislinn thought, so tired of their bickering that she nearly gave in.
But the moment her mouth opened, someone familiar showed up outside her shop—and the visit proved to be a mixed blessing. Though the interruption was welcome, it was Miranda, and there was a knowing expression on her face that proved she wasn't simply visiting.
Get ready for the embarrassing stories, Aislinn thought, preparing for the worst.
Amusingly, Troy looked rather irritated when the bells chimed with Miranda's entrance, as if realizing Aislinn was about to finally offer an answer only to be interrupted. So the moment he looked back to see who was to blame, Aislinn quickly threw out a greeting.
“Hi, Mom!” Suggestively, she added, “In the neighborhood?”
In an instance, Troy's expression went from ireful to curious in learning the newcomer's identity, and Miranda answered with a smirk, “Something like that.”
Just as Aislinn had told her cousin, Miranda was simply waiting for a chance to meet the werewolf, and as she came to a stop at the counter, she turned her attention to Troy and asked, “Who's this?”
Aislinn was surprised that Miranda hadn't simply greeted him by name and simultaneously exposed the fact that her daughter had been gossiping to her family about him like an infatuated teenager. Still, she knew her mother too well to relax. Just give her time, the mother of shame is an expert at her craft.
“This is Troy Ashland,” she answered. “Troy, meet my mother, Miranda Carmichael.”
The werewolf gave a respectful nod, then asked as if he'd picked up on their earlier innuendo, “Did Aislinn mention me to you?”
Here it comes, Aislinn thought, and without missing a beat, Miranda nodded, “Yes she did. Several times in fact.”
To keep Troy from making assumptions, Aislinn quickly interjected, “We were discussing spells that called for the blood of a werewolf.”
Miranda eyed her daughter in amusement. “Do you really want me to play along with that, Aislinn?”
“No, I don't,” she smirked. “I know better.”
“That's my girl,” Miranda chuckled, then turned her attention back to Troy. “So Aislinn tells me you're interested, and I wanted to come by and meet you. I'm not intruding on anything, am I?”
“Not specifically,” Troy answered. “Do you live in town?”
“My sister and I live about five miles east of Braddock's Estate, so we're not too far from you. My niece also stays with us, but she's out of town at school right now.”
“What about Aislinn's father?”
Aislinn cringed over the question while Miranda grumbled, “He decided his fiancee and child wasn't worth his time and left when Aislinn was only five years old.”
It was apparent that Troy hadn't meant to breach such a sensitive subject because he apologized to both of them. But Miranda merely smiled, motioning for him to follow her to the sitting area near the books. “Don't worry about it. Come on, let's talk.”
Worried her mother's intentions weren't completely innocent, Aislinn inquired, “Mom, what are you doing?
“Getting to know him better, why?”
“Because I get the feeling you're about to tell various stories that include my naked rear end in the great outdoors.” Among other things.
Miranda chuckled, “No, I'm not gonna talk about how you were a nudist up until the age of ten.”
Troy looked amused, and Aislinn groaned, deciding that if she didn't want her mother to embarrass her, she needed to stop setting her up for it, and remained quiet. But thankfully, Miranda didn't realize her daughter had never actually stopped being a nudist, she'd simply learned the meaning of discretion.
“So, where were you living before you came here, Mr. Ashland?” Miranda asked.
“Call me Troy,” he returned, “and I was staying in the Northern Territories.”
“Canada? That's quite a move,” she suggested. “And it seems strange that you showed up here of all places and coincidentally found your mate.”
Aislinn hadn't thought to ask Troy about where he was living before he moved to Braddock's Estate, and hearing his answer, she also had to wonder at how he'd found her. It seemed very convenient, particularly when he'd been turning Savage.
But he had no qualms explaining the situation, starting with his loss of humanity before stating, “There's been so many of us turning Savage in recent years that we sometimes use oracles to locate our mates. I guess it's kind of become tradition after reaching a certain age.”
“Oracles?” Miranda asked, intrigued, and Aislinn found herself just as curious.
With a nod, Troy stated, “Yeah, she figured out where I needed to go, and we'd been living here for two months before I finally met your daughter.”
“Then this was your last resort.”
“Basically.”
Aislinn hadn't thought of it like that, and the suggestion gave rise to several questions, none of which she had the time to contemplate when her mother asked, “Then, do you actually like my daughter?”
“Mom,” Aislinn muttered.
“I do,” Troy answered despite her interjection. “Very much. Why? Are you afraid I might hurt her?”
“No, just curious about how matehood works with werewolves in specific. Seems like you could've found someone you hated, and that doesn't make sense to me.”
“I suppose we would've just had to work it out,” he suggested, then glanced over at Aislinn. “But I think she likes me, too.”
“And I still think you're as arrogant as the week is long.”
Grinning, Troy gave his attention back to Miranda when she informed her daughter, “That's good, you've always liked arrogant men.”
“Since when?”
“Since you were fifteen and kept running off late at night to be with that Tyler kid from school, the one who was expelled for vandalism.”
Aislinn stared at Miranda in surprise. “You knew about that?”
“Yes, you were casting spells to make me think you were still in bed asleep, and I would've stopped you, but I knew nothing bad would come of it. You were just growing up, so I left you alone.”
A part of Aislinn knew she shouldn't have expected her mother to be so easily fooled, but she was even more surprised when Miranda additionally related to Troy, “I also know about how she sneaked off to Braddock's Estate one night with the ambitious purpose of solving a local mystery of the former owner by conjuring spirits to tell her the truth. Thankfully, my sister found her and brought her home.”
“I asked Helen not to tell!” Aislinn grumbled.
“And she wouldn't have if I hadn't guessed.”
At that, Troy smirked, turning a curious gaze to Aislinn. “If you could sneak out to the same mansion I live in when you were fifteen, why don't you ever come see me now?”
She offered an unimpressed look, retorting, “Maybe I would if you'd give me the chance.”
Knowing she meant he was always at her shop, he grinned. “Touche.”
Miranda seemed amused by their exchange, but before the conversation could continue, a few humans stepped into the establishment, serving as a reminder that they weren't actually in a great place to talk about supernatural topics in-depth.
Assuming a business-like demeanor, Aislinn greeted her new customers, and in doing so, Miranda stood and motioned for Troy to follow
.
“Aislinn, I'm heading back home. Call me when your shift ends.”
She eyed the two of them on the way out, replying suspiciously, “Uh huh, be careful, Mom.”
“I will,” Miranda answered cheerily, thanking Troy when he held the door open for her.
As the werewolf stepped out behind her, he cast a meaningful smirk in Aislinn's direction, proving he fully intended to get information if possible. But she couldn't leave her customers unattended to make sure he behaved, and let a soft groan.
Aislinn only prayed to the goddess that her mother wouldn't tell Troy the entire truth.
Troy didn't like the idea of going behind Aislinn's back for information, but after nearly a week with no progress, he was desperate enough to do almost anything.
He recalled thinking it wouldn't take long to garner her interests, and now wanted to scoff over the hasty judgment. Despite his best efforts, not a day went by that he and Aislinn didn't bicker, mostly about his presence at Strange Brew, and while Troy could handle a few arguments, what bothered him was her secrecy.
Granted, her personal affairs were her own no matter how much his instincts begged to differ, so she had every right to keep them to herself. But his curiosity wouldn't let up, particularly when she'd asked him not to come back until her birthday had passed.
Keeping his hands to himself was one thing, and Troy had done his best to respect those wishes. But he needed a reason if he was going to break off all contact with Aislinn for nearly a week, and not simply because he desired to know more about her.
He also had his beast to worry over when she wasn't around.
With an unmarked mate, a werewolf turning savage continued to experience irrationally violent urges in their absence. So when Troy was at the estate, the difficulties he'd had reigning in those impulses gradually resumed the longer they were apart, and would until Aislinn had been marked and they'd bonded. So he worried about what might happen if deprived of the calm her presence offered for an entire week.
He had wondered if Andi knew a spell that might temporarily take the edge off long enough to give Aislinn the time she wanted, and even considered that Adriana's fae charm would've been useful. But Troy was too anxious to have his answers, and even a little worried about the problems between him and his witch to consider it at length.
Strange Brew Page 13
