by Bianca D'Arc
“She was, but there have been signs… And incidents… All around the world.” Bill shook his head. “Your kind have been reporting encounters with Venifucus agents for years now. We once thought that evil order had been eradicated for all time, but it’s back. If it ever left. And then there are the tales of sea creatures the likes of which have not been seen in millennia. Some even say the leviathan itself has been loosed once more in our oceans, where it does not belong.”
Mark frowned. He’d heard the stories too. Good intel, from people he trusted said all these things were true.
“Venifucus,” Shelly said, drawing his attention. “That’s the word Antony used as well. He said his position in the Venifucus would be assured if he completed his task, which was to kill Mark.”
“I led this evil to your door,” Mark realized with a sinking feeling. He wanted to crush her to him, but resisted. He had to apologize first and see if she would forgive him. “I’m so sorry, mi amor.”
“Don’t be silly.” Shelly dismissed his heartache with a casual wave, making his inner cat want to growl in amusement. She was such an unpredictable female. He would enjoy the next decades getting to know her moods. “After the incident at the hotel,” she went on talking to her father. “I came straight home and didn’t leave again until after Mark had convinced me to go on a site visit.”
“Site visit? You’re asking her to design something for you?” Bill asked, clearly intrigued.
“It’s a project for the Clan,” was all Mark would say for now. He was still feeling this man out, although his instincts said Bill was okay. Still, Mark was cautious when it came to the safety of his people. “Let me just go out there and check on the cavalry,” Mark said, rising from the couch. He didn’t want to, but he really did have to pass on the warning about not touching the body, otherwise his people or their allies among the wolves might run into trouble. With Antony confirmed as having been a highly-placed Venifucus agent, they would have to be doubly cautious in dealing with what was left of him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Mark had left the room and the house, Shelly met her father’s eyes. “Are you okay with this?” she asked, getting it out in the open. “With him?”
Her dad gave a genuine sigh that held what sounded to her like relief.
“Frankly, I’m pleased. Although I could wish he was a little less of a target himself. Then again, I saw what he did to that mage out there. He can protect you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you—someone who could love you and keep you safe once I’m gone.”
“Dad! Don’t talk like that. You’re not going anywhere.” She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.
“But it’s the reality I’ve been dealing with for years now. Every one of our family is gone. We’re all that’s left of the once-proud Howells.” He shook his head. “I’ve fought more battles in the past few years than most people fight in a lifetime. Those with evil intent are constantly at me, trying to subdue me and steal my power. So far, they haven’t succeeded. But my worst fear is that, someday, someone will best me, and you’ll be left unprotected. Which is why I’m more than okay with you and Mark Pepard.” He sat forward and gave her a level stare. “If he’s serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious.” This time, it was Mark who had come into the conversation unannounced. He sat next to Shelly and placed a protective arm around her. “I’m as serious as a jaguar can be. Shelly is my mate. I’m just having a little trouble convincing her of exactly what that means.”
Her dad’s grin was instant and wide. “Well, then, I have no objection. Welcome to the family, Mark.” He reached out a hand across the small coffee table, and Mark met him halfway. Both men were smiling as if the union was a fait acompli.
“What? Just like that?” Shelly tried to object, but the men were still grinning.
“Give her time to figure it out,” her father advised Mark. “She only just discovered magic, after all. It’ll take time to learn about her fey heritage.”
Mark sat back with a stunned look on his face. “Fey? That’s where your magic comes from?”
Her dad shrugged. “Some of it. There were a lot of human mages mixed in over the years, but the fey blood breeds true in almost every case. Shelly’s always had it. It’s just been bottled up inside her, unable to find a way out.” He was looking at her fondly, but his words were directed to Mark. “Have you seen the sparks?”
Mark nodded. “Fire mage was the guess of my abuela. The first time they appeared, we were in the caldera of an inactive volcano.”
Her dad’s eyes widened in surprise. Good. She’d managed to surprise him. Even if they were talking about her as if she wasn’t even sitting right there in front of them.
“You don’t say? Now that sounds like an interesting location, and the exact spot destined for a fire mage to ignite.”
“Abuela said just about the same thing,” Mark agreed. “One thing I’m curious about…”
“Just one thing?” Bill replied, clearly amused.
“Your daughter accepted the existence of shifters with ease, but any time the conversation turned toward magic, she seemed to hit a wall of disbelief. As if she couldn’t believe the evidence of her own eyes or was in denial for some reason.” Mark’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t think it was natural and I’m wondering if you had something to do with her aversion.”
Bill sat back, an appraising look on his face that turned quickly to one of respect as he nodded. “I am an expert at casting wards…and other spells. Once I realized Shelly had been born latent, I devised multiple strategies around keeping her safe. One of those was to cast a spell that would keep her from believing in magic—not the fairy stories of children’s fantasies. I couldn’t deny her those gifts of childhood. But real magic. I didn’t want her looking too closely at that sort of thing because I never wanted her to feel badly about herself for not being able to access the magic that was her heritage. It wasn’t her fault, after all. Latency happens, even in the best of families.”
Well that was news to her. Too bad he hadn’t thought to be honest with her. Shelly thought her life would have been a lot different—and her relationship with her father much closer—had he trusted her with the truth. It would take her some time to come to terms with his decisions, but she already knew she would forgive him. No matter how misguided, he’d done everything he’d done out of a desire to keep her safe.
He loved her. It was clear in the extraordinary lengths he’d gone to, trying to make her life as secure as possible.
The men went on discussing the finer aspects of everything that had happened for a while, but eventually, Shelly started to yawn. It had been a hell of a long day with too much excitement. She was about to crash, and crash hard.
Apparently, her father noticed. “Well, it’s the middle of the night,” he said, looking at his watch. “I’d better be going.”
“Nonsense,” she said quickly. “It’s too late for you to be out roaming around on your own. I want everyone I care about safe for a little while. You can have the guest room.”
“Circling the wagons, eh?” her father asked shrewdly, but gave in. “All right. I see the sense in that for now. I have my go bag in the Rolls. I’ll just go get it.”
“Go bag?” Mark asked as her dad left the room again and she stood from the couch. He followed her up and put both arms loosely around her waist. “Your father keeps a go bag in his Rolls?”
She nodded. “He always has. Ever since I can remember. He’s got overnight bags in every vehicle he owns.”
“So do most shifters, but that’s because we always need to find extra clothes if we damage or leave our original outfit somewhere else. Can’t just walk around naked in the human world.”
With a body like his, she couldn’t imagine why not, but she kept that thought carefully to herself, considering that her father might walk back in at any time. Instead, she leaned into Mark’s warmth.
“Did I thank you yet for saving me tonight?” she whispered to him, her
lips yearning toward his.
“You had a lot to do with the saving, querida. If you ask me, it was a joint effort,” he told her.
“That’s mighty generous of you, Mister Alpha,” she told him teasingly. Drunk on relief, now that the battle was over and everyone was safe.
He chuckled. “It’s just Alpha. And to you, it’s just Mark. Or my beloved, or any other endearment you want to call me. I’m yours, mi amor, forevermore.”
“Mmm. I’m beginning to like the sound of that,” she told him, just starting to dare to believe that magic was real and this…thing…this explosive attraction between them might be more than just a passing fancy.
Mark looked serious, and her father seemed all too ready to take him at face value. If her dad believed Mark wouldn’t walk away after he’d had his fun, then perhaps he knew something she didn’t.
What was she thinking? Of course her father knew something she didn’t. He’d known about magic his whole life, while she was a total novice. He probably knew a lot more about shifters than she had been able to learn in the short time she’d been in on the secret of their existence. Her dad probably knew all sorts of things about this mating thing among Mark’s kind, even if Dad was something else.
Fey, he’d said. Mark had recognized that word—and understood what it had meant—on first hearing it. All Shelly knew was that the word was associated with fairies and magic and all things cute and sparkly. That probably wasn’t very accurate. She’d have to hit up her dad for an explanation. Tomorrow. Her jaw cracked in another giant yawn. Definitely tomorrow.
When her head hit the pillow a few minutes later, she had barely taken the time to brush her teeth and put on a nightgown. There would be no pre-sleep nookie tonight, and Mark seemed okay with that. He was attentive and kind, helping her with her nightgown and not attempting to start anything she didn’t have the strength to finish.
When she woke a few hours later, just before dawn, that was another story. Mark was up, his eyes glowing a little eerily in the darkness as he leaned up against the upholstered headboard. He was watching her sleep.
Immediately, her heart melted. He’d been watching over her. Her own personal guard jaguar, in a hunky human package. How could a girl get so lucky?
“Come here,” she whispered, inviting him down into her embrace.
He didn’t waste any time. Mark slid down the bed and joined her once more, flat on his back as she rose over him. She straddled him, climbing that handsome body—if not entirely gracefully, then at least with enthusiasm. It was easy to get enthusiastic about making love with Mark.
He was everything she ever could have dreamed of in a man…and more. So much more. The jaguar. The magic. The care, devotion and…love. Yes, love. She could feel it coming off him whenever they were near.
It was those instincts of hers again, telling her that this man would never hurt her. Not consciously. Not intentionally. No, he was all about protecting her. Cherishing her. Loving her.
And she realized in that moment… She loved him too.
At some point, while she hadn’t been paying attention, everything had changed. Love had blossomed in her heart. A connection had formed between her soul and his. Never to be broken.
She loved him, and whether she was ready for it or not, she was committed to him in every way. She just hadn’t gotten up the courage to admit it to herself until that moment.
She had to tell him. She had to see his reaction. She had to know if her instincts were right again.
Shelly stilled on top of him, her hands on his shoulders as she looked down to meet his gaze. The best way was the simple way, she thought.
“I love you, Mark,” she whispered, looking deep into his eyes.
The spark of joy that lit his gaze from within contained not just the human side, but also the inner jaguar looking out at her. Both of them were happy. One might even say triumphant.
Mark’s hands tightened on her waist.
“I love you with all my heart, Shelly. And I always will.” His declaration was both sweet and compelling. “Do you agree to be my mate? My wife? My life’s companion?”
“Yes, to all three,” she answered with a smile she couldn’t contain. It filled her heart, her soul, and every fiber of her being.
She kissed him then, and it went quickly from sweet and joyful to fiery and passionate. She lowered herself onto him, wanting complete union between their bodies while her spirit soared with his, in perfect alignment. They would have years to hone their rhythm and the way they complemented each other, but this moment out of time was…just right.
And then, he began to move. Impatience seemed to be the rule of the day when he rolled them over until he could control the motion. She was happy to oblige since she’d lost control over her limbs at some point while the earth was shattering a bit beneath her.
She could feel magic stirring in her soul, and her fingers were tingling. Her last coherent thought was that she hoped she didn’t singe her pretty cotton sheets, but then again…who cared? They could buy more.
Mark drove her to peak after peak, thrusting and sliding within her in just the right way. He was her master in those moments, and she his willing slave, although… Mark seemed to be taking his cues from her moans of pleasure, a servant to her every whim, her every whimper of delight. So, who really was the master here? And did it really matter?
As they rocketed to the stars together, she decided it didn’t matter one bit. The only thing that counted was that they were in love. Joined as one. As close as two people could be, and on the precipice of a life filled with laughter, luck and love the likes of which the world had never seen.
They made love again and again before finally rising for the day. There was still work to do, and as Shelly emerged from her bedroom, she heard her father moving around downstairs. Blushing a bit at the late hour, she realized he’d be fully aware of what they’d been doing all morning.
She’d never been in quite this situation before. Her father had never been present when she emerged from any love nest where she’d been having raging sex with someone only a half hour before. She wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“Want me to go first?” Mark asked, coming up behind her. “I have a few things I’d like to talk to him about, anyway. Why don’t you go to your studio? I’ll give you a shout when lunch is ready, okay?” He kissed her on top of her head in a gentle sign of affection.
“You’re my hero,” she whispered, taking what was quite possibly the coward’s way out and making a beeline for her studio.
She heard Mark go down the stairs and greet her father, but she didn’t linger, not wanting to hear any possible confrontation. Mark was a big boy. He could handle her father. Maybe.
True to his word, a short while later, Mark called her downstairs for lunch. Her dad greeted her normally, no raised eyebrows or knowing looks, thank the Goddess. He simply talked with Mark about the werewolves that apparently were patrolling outside her house.
“I’ve had dealings with Cassius and his brother many times over the years,” her father was saying.
She knew from an earlier part of the conversation that he was naming the Midtown Alpha and his younger brother, Cassius. Mark had told her that Cassius was the one who had led the group that had saved her bacon at the hotel.
“I knew his mother, of course. She was a lovely young witch, who had a talent for the earth elements and growing things. Rather natural, I thought, when she mated with a werewolf,” her father went on as they all sat down for lunch together.
They were dining on a meal delivered by one of Mark’s people a short while before. Mark had arranged catering for everyone involved in this operation, renting out a place just down the road for the security contingent where they could sleep, shower, eat and generally be well treated between shifts up here at Shelly’s house.
It wasn’t an ideal solution for anything long term, but it would work for now. Mark took good care of his people, and he wouldn’t eat gourmet fo
od without offering the same to his staff. Shelly loved his egalitarian outlook and realized, all over again, how perfect they were for each other.
“I didn’t know he had a magical side,” Mark observed as they ate.
“It’s not something they advertise, I understand, but Cassius, at least, definitely inherited some of his mother’s considerable skills. He hasn’t trained them the way he should, of course. It’s been somewhat difficult for him, from what I can gather. His Pack doesn’t have a great deal of trust in human magic, and his mother was an earth mage of the highest caliber. A true servant of the Light. I was saddened when she was killed.”
They were silent a moment, almost in observation of respect for the fallen. They continued to eat the delicious meal Mark’s people had provided, and eventually, Mark spoke again.
“Bill, there is one thing I wanted to ask you about those wards of yours.”
“Certainly,” her dad replied, looking like he’d be willing to divulge his secrets—up to a point.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to cast a ward around our new home…on Jaguar Island.”
“Jaguar Island?” Bill tilted his head in question.
“That’s what we renamed it when my Clan bought the place last year,” Mark told him. “It’s the dormant volcano where your daughter’s power first sprang to life. It’s to be the new Clan home for all jaguars, if they want to come. I won’t force anybody, but the idea is that it will be a place where we can come together as a Clan and rebuild. There are few of us left in the world now, and I want to try to change that.”
“A noble cause,” Bill said gravely as he smoothed his napkin. “And now that the fate of the Howells is linked to the fate of your Clan, I can tell you that my skills are completely at your disposal. Though I hope you will understand that I never had an Alpha, so I probably won’t be the most obedient of subordinates… If that’s the role you want me to fulfill.”
“Never that, Bill. I’m not a monarch like the other big cat shifters. I’m not even a Lord like the were Tribes seem to enjoy. I’m just an Alpha with a widely scattered Clan, trying to rebuild.” Mark was a lot more than that, and they all knew it, but he was a good man who didn’t wield his power like a weapon. “There are a certain group of elders in the Clan who keep their own counsel and help pass the knowledge we need down to the younger generation. They are our conscience and our barometer. They are the counsel I seek when I need to make the big decisions. I rather thought that’s the kind of role you’d fit into. If you want it.”
