by Emma Roman
I held my ground, refusing to show any weakness.
The moment her power bore down on me, I staggered.
Sweet mother of Mercury, she was strong.
Though I fought to remain standing, the power swept my legs out from beneath me. Something dark closed around my throat, choking the very air out of me. I wheezed and shook my head. Something wasn’t right. This didn’t feel anything like when I’d eaten the chocolates. This felt dark. Black magic. Bitch was trying to kill me.
“Vesper, no!” Silas shouted.
I’d never seen Mathis move so fast in my entire life. He shot past Silas and me, his hand closing around the witch’s throat and heaving her in the air. Without warning, he snapped her neck, then threw her clear across the room, the walls shuddering when her body connected.
The invisible hand around my throat vanished. I sucked in a choking breath and stumbled backward.
“Jesus,” Silas breathed. “Guess I should have expected that.”
Mathis spun around and glared at Silas. “Is this how you run your coven?”
“Don’t start with me,” Silas snarled.
Growling under his breath, Mathis crossed back toward me and kneeled down, his fingers smoothing back my fur. “You all right?”
My head bobbed, though a breathy whimper was the only response I could give. Damn. That witch’s grip had been tight.
Rising to his feet, Mathis turned back to Silas. “Fix this. Now. Or so help me, your body will be laying next to your witch’s.”
Silas shot Mathis an enraged glance, but finally nodded and approached me.
This time, I felt little more than a tingle sweep through my body. No choking hand, no darkness, no death. This time when the change came over me, it was gentle and quick. The sound of my snapping bones hardly affected me.
I rose on shaky legs, barely aware of Mathis draping his coat around me. Then I opened my eyes and met his gaze. So green, and so familiar.
A slow smile spread across my face. Before either of us could speak, I leapt into his arms and brought our mouths together in a heated clash.
His chest rumbled against mine, his hands soft beneath the cover of his jacket as he kissed the ever-loving hell out of me.
I drew back, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I remember you.”
Relief danced across his face. He brought our brows together, then kissed the tip of my nose. “Thank God.”
“Or, you know, thank me,” Silas muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, apparently I have some arrangements to make and a family to inform.”
I slid down Mathis’s length, then glanced at Vesper’s mangled body. He’d done a number on her. Guess that was one favor I’d never owe her. Would her death affect relations between the pack and the coven, though? Things were already so precarious.
“A justifiable death,” Silas said.
Could he still read my thoughts? Like he had when I was in wolf form?
He turned and winked at me, silently answering my question. Clearing my throat, I forced myself to imagine dancing puppies and kittens in tutus.
Silas burst out laughing. “I like you.”
Mathis’s arms tightened around me, his jaw tight as he glared at Silas.
“Oh, calm down, wolf. I didn’t mean like that. You’re all too furry for my liking. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Without another word, he drew a cellphone out of his pocket and swept out of the shop.
Mathis wrapped me in his arms and pressed a kiss atop my head. “Come on.”
“Where we going?”
“Home.”
Oh, I liked the sound of that.
9
A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. “Nervous?”
“I might pee myself,” I snickered. My first night running with the pack. What if I couldn’t shift? What if I wasn’t fast enough? What if I ran into that damn elk again?
And the real question running through my mind…
What if I still wasn’t good enough for them?
“You’ll do great,” Mathis assured me. He drew me into his chest and buried his nose in the crook of my neck. “And once we’re done running, we’re coming right back here.”
Here being the bedroom of course. The one place we’d barely left the entire week. Not that I was complaining.
I chuckled under my breath and sank into him, reveling in the feel of him surrounding me. “I told my parents I would go to their place after. They haven’t seen me since our first run together. They want an explanation.”
“The entire pack does. Thankfully, Piper hasn’t said a word.”
I nodded, then walked toward the dresser and checked my phone. As expected, my mother had sent a message, reminding me about tonight. Mathis had decided it best not to tell anyone about the spell. He feared others would attempt similar routes for anything they wanted fixed in their lives. Though I couldn’t find it in me to regret what I’d done, he was right. The last thing we needed was to push our limits with the coven. The hostility had worsened this week. Silas had informed them of Vesper’s death, but not how or why. He’d promised us Austin and Lydia’s silence on the matter as well.
Officially, the story was that I’d finally learned to shift. And that Mathis had been mentoring me. I snorted under my breath. He’d been mentoring me all right, but not in the ways of the wolf. Tonight, he intended to feed that story to the pack. I didn’t like the idea of lying to them, but it seemed best.
My parents, on the other hand, needed to know the truth. Piper had told them too much in the beginning. A family secret, of sorts. But one I was confident we would all keep.
“There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. And maybe now is best before the run.”
I hummed a noncommittal response.
“But you need to turn around and look at me,” he teased.
Ah, effort. With a small smile, I did as he asked, then gasped.
He knelt in the middle of the room, a small box resting in the palm of his hand. “In all the commotion, we never really had the chance to do things right.”
Do things right.
“The first time I truly saw you, you were fourteen. All gangly and awkward.”
I laughed under my breath, tears pricking at my eyes.
“But I saw you. It never mattered to me you couldn’t shift. Of course, things weren’t that simple for us. I was eleven years older than you. Noticing a fourteen-year-old…well, I was lucky your father didn’t take me out back and shoot me. I told myself to look elsewhere.
“I noticed you again at seventeen. Fresh out of high school, your whole life laid out in front of you. And you chose to stay. I remember wondering why. Such a huge world out there, and you chose the pack. I don’t know if you recall, but our eyes met that day.”
“I remember,” I whispered. “You smiled at me even though Conrad was barking your name.”
“From then on, I noticed you everywhere. But seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, they all felt too young. Thing is, you’re not a teenager anymore.”
“No, I’m not.”
“If you hadn’t gone to that witch, we would have ended up here. I know it without a doubt. You were all I ever saw. You’re all I ever want to see. Now until forever.”
I wiped a tear from my eye. If he kept this up, I’d be bawling by the time we met with the pack.
“You’re already my mate. We’ll finalize it with the pack tonight. But I want something more. I want everything. The whole package. I want the world to know you as my wife.”
“Mathis…” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Juniper Reed sounds so horrible!”
He burst out laughing. “Is that your only reservation? Because you can keep your own name. So long as I get to keep you.”
I sank to my knees in front of him and cupped his cheeks. “You know it’s a yes, you silly man.”
With a pleased growl, Mathis wound his arms around me and pulled me flat him. “Damn straight it’s a yes.”
His mouth
found mine as he lowered me down onto the floor.
“Mathis!” I squealed. “We have to meet with the pack! We can’t be late for our own mating ceremony.”
“I have a different ceremony in mind,” he chuckled, his lips finding their way to my throat. “Besides, I’m the alpha. They can bloody well wait.”
His mouth trailed lower until my entire world lit up.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter if the pack ever thought me good enough. Mathis did. And that was all I needed.
11. Valentine Kisses
A Fada Shapeshifter Story
Rebecca Rivard
1
April
Chico waited until Lita came offstage to tell her he was leaving.
The crowd tonight was huge, and every single one of them a rabid Lita fan. They roared when her band introduced her latest hit, then screamed the words about an unfaithful lover along with her.
Her sultry voice soared above the seething mass, at times fierce, at times heart-rending. From his place in the wings, Chico could see tears on people’s faces.
Lita’s pale face lit, feeding on their sorrow.
She took the mic and strolled to the edge of the stage, all lean, hot sex in a silver tank and black pants that looked like they’d been painted on her long legs. She fisted her hand as the lyrics told of the woman’s vengeance, and the crowd shrieked with fury.
Lita tossed back her long black hair and drank it all in. As a night fae, she fed on negative energy—the darker, the better. For her, anger and despair were like sunlight to a flower.
Only Lita was a vile, twisted flower. One who’d sunk her hooks into Chico for six long months.
When he’d signed the contract to be her bodyguard, he should’ve realized that what she really wanted was a shifter in her bed. His alpha had warned him against working for a night fae, but Chico had stood firm. In six months with Lita, he would earn five times what he’d ordinarily make in a year. He could give a nice chunk to his clan, another chunk to his parents—and still have enough left to do anything he damn well pleased for a long time.
And Deus, he’d earned every fucking penny of it.
But his contract was up, and as of tonight, he was out of here.
Lita strode off the stage. With her came the faint but unmistakable scent of metal and decay that emanated from her kind. A human couldn’t smell it, but to a shifter’s enhanced senses, a night fae’s stench was unmistakable—and stomach-turning.
Lita caught Chico’s eye. She didn’t even smile, just jerked her chin at him.
He knew the drill. He was to follow her to her dressing room. She was humming with energy, and she wanted to work it off with him.
He dutifully turned and walked backstage behind her.
Inside, his gut knotted. He had the bad feeling that she’d been working a glamour on him for the past six months, and a part of him feared that even with the contract up, he’d never be free of her.
He squared his shoulders. The only way to fight a night fae was to think positive thoughts. He pictured Rock Run Creek and the beautiful corner of Maryland where his clan’s base was located. He thought of his mom and dad, and his friends—Tiago, who was more like a brother, and all the others who’d been pups with him.
He entered the dressing room and closed the door behind him.
Lita set a hand on his chest. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her face and her pale blue eyes were glowing. Six months ago, Chico would’ve been panting to have her, but now all he felt was the darkness at her heart.
She ran a tongue over her scarlet lips. “How do you want it tonight, fada?”
He removed her hand. “I’m here to say goodbye. My contract’s up as of midnight.”
Lita’s face twisted so that suddenly she didn’t look so beautiful. But there was nothing she could do—the fae found it almost impossible to break a contract. They might try to twist the terms, or trick you into agreeing to something you didn’t mean to, but once they’d made an agreement, the fae were bound by it. They could only break a contract at great physical harm to themselves, and even then, they risked bringing the wrath of other fae down on them.
Still, Lita was powerful. She amped up her glamour so that she glimmered with an unearthly beauty. When she tried, she could make herself so beautiful that grown men literally fell to their knees before her, begging for just an hour of her time.
Chico had seen it himself. Hell, he’d been one of those poor fools.
The glamour tugged on him. Just one more time—what would it hurt?
He set his jaw and resisted with everything he had.
Picture Rock Run and the Chesapeake Bay at sunset. Think of his family and friends…
Time froze as the two of them fought a silent battle. His internal clock told him the moment it was midnight. Relief flooded him. He wrested his gaze from hers and took a step back.
“I’m leaving, Lita. Unless you’re breaking the contract?”
Emotions flitted across her face—surprise, anger, maybe even a little hurt. The scent of decay increased until it was so strong he could hardly breathe.
“Go then,” she spat out. “But you’ll never have another woman like me.” She turned her back on him and began stripping off her clothes.
Chico fumbled blindly for the doorknob and escaped.
2
January, nine months later
“He’s here.” Kym nudged Jenny.
Jenny nodded. She didn’t need to turn around to know who Kym meant. Every nerve ending in her body had just gone on high alert.
She added steamed milk to the cappuccino she was preparing and handed it to the customer before turning to the next person in line, a pretty brunette in a striped hat. “May I help you, miss?”
Just beyond, he waited. Mr. Dark and Dangerous—Kym’s name, not hers, but it fit. He had a hard, rangy body, cropped brown curls and a perpetual dark stubble. Outside, a light snow drifted down, but he had on his usual black leather jacket over jeans and worn motorcycle boots.
He was the sexiest man Jenny had ever seen—and he was also a fada, a shapeshifter.
She’d learned that much from Kym. “I don’t know his name,” she’d told Jenny, “but I’ve seen him around.”
Kym had explained that he was a member of the Rock Run River Fada Clan, water shifters who lived in an underground base near Grace Harbor. Fada males were hard-eyed and ruthless. They might run legitimate businesses, but everyone knew that for the right money, they were for hire as mercenaries—or worse.
Mess with a Rock Run Fada and you might end up feeding the fishes in the Chesapeake Bay.
Even though the Rock Run base was just a few miles west of town, Jenny had only seen two or three river fada since moving to Maryland four months ago. For the most part, they stuck to their base or a local bar that catered to fada.
Yet at the beginning of January, Mr. Dark and Dangerous had started coming in for coffee several times a week.
It was almost February, and Jenny still didn’t know his name. But last night she’d dreamed about him. A vivid, steamy dream, where he’d pinned her to the mattress and murmured to her in his sexy accent. Rock Run had been founded by Portuguese fada, and even younger members spoke with a slight intonation.
His body had been hard on hers, his hands pressing hers to the mattress on either side of her head. He’d given her a leisurely kiss and then stared down at her with hot dark eyes.
Jenny had moved restlessly. “I—”
His mouth had curved wickedly. “Oh,” he said with that sexy accent, “you’ll get what you want. But first you have to say please…”
Heat raced up and down Jenny’s spine. “Please. Please.”
Now, she handed over two large coffees to the woman in the striped hat, and then unconsciously touched the silver pendant around her neck for courage before turning to him with a professional smile.
“Good morning, sir. The usual?”
“’Morning.” His answering smile was int
imate, as though he’d actually been there in her dreams last night. “And yeah.”
Her solar plexus flexed. She forgot what she was doing as she smiled back, for real this time. The light snow had left water droplets on his face and hair, and a few still clung to his thick, curly lashes. Her gaze caught on those glimmering lashes, mesmerized.
His cheek creased in a grin. “A café mocha,” he prompted.
Her face heated. “Coming right up,” she said, and turned to the coffee machine. The first day, she’d expected him to order strong black coffee—he looked like that kind of guy. But it turned out he had a sweet tooth, and he loved chocolate. Something they had in common.
Not that it mattered. She knew trouble when she saw it, and this man was trouble with a capital T.
Still, that didn’t stop Jenny from topping his coffee off with extra whipped cream, the way he liked it. She told herself it was simply good customer service.
“Here you go.” She handed him the cup.
His fingers brushed hers. “Chico. My name’s Chico Nobrega. And you are?”
Damn. There went her nerve endings again.
But she managed to speak normally. “Jenny,” she replied. “Jenny Erdrich.”
“Jenny Erdrich,” he repeated, and somehow her plain, ordinary name sounded exotic in his husky voice. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced around. There was no one else in line, and the shop was empty save for a couple of customers frowning at their laptops. “Can you take a break? I’d like the company.”
Her brain said no, but her mouth said, “I don’t know…”
She looked at Kym, who said, “Go ahead. I can handle things,” and shooed Jenny in Chico’s direction.
Kym was a short, energetic firecracker of a woman who was writing a graphic novel. Like Jenny, she was dressed in the Java Shoppe uniform of black shirt and pants, but the ends of her curly blond hair were tipped a bright green and she had a matching chartreuse crystal in one nostril. They’d met on Jenny’s first day at the coffee shop, when the owner had asked Kym to train her, and the two of them had immediately bonded over their shared love of art and Marvel comics.
