by Milly Taiden
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Jag.” Vander exhaled, dragging his hand through his hair again.
His brother held up one hand. “I know that, Vander, but I need to talk this out, so bear with me, okay? Have a little patience.”
Damen grinned at the sibling growls. “I feel like this needs popcorn. Are you making a point or do I need to referee?”
“Popcorn? I haven’t had that since the last time I took a transport to Nova Aurora. It’s the one thing Alyx’s new bride has stocked from Earth. That and chocolate.” Jag smacked his lips at the memory of the hot, buttery goodness. “You should try the two together. Yum.”
“Kari had some brought from Nova last week along with the hotties for your brother’s line of possible mates. She’s a saint for thinking of it for us,” Damen answered.
“Us?” Jag snorted. “Sorry, dude, but if those fluffy white kernels came from Kari, they were for me, not you. So, hands off.”
Vander stared at the two men. “Unbelievable. Now I know why you need to talk out your thoughts, Jag. It’s because you can’t focus on a simple course without going on a tangent, but you Damen? Damn.”
“All right. Jeez.” Jag rolled his eyes. “As I was saying before I was distracted—” he shot a look at his brother, “the nomadic camps, though semi-autonomous, still suffer sporadic raids from rogue cave-dwellers living in the Mirror Mountains. Our militia handles these periodic surges with no problem, but intelligence believes the increased frequency of the raids, not only on the nomads but on the outlying Palladian villages, is a result of collusion between the cave rogues and the warlords from the jungle.”
Vander’s eyes skimmed the model of his realm, particularly the desert and jungles separated by the twin mountain ranges. “Is this intelligence in the report you put on my desk?” Vander moved back to his chair and scanned the documents.
Damen flanked his side, studying the dossier as well. “Why wasn’t this sent to me?”
Jag slipped into a chair in front of the monitor and blew a casual kiss to Kari. “It was. The same report is on your desk as we speak.”
“So, what’s to stop my disgruntled warriors from joining the rogues and the jungle gangs?” Vander asked. “We need to do something.”
Jag and Damen looked at each other and then at the king. “As far as your men are concerned, it’s not what they have that’s the issue. It’s a question of what they don’t. Warriors have money. They have food and plenty of Sidaii wine. What they don’t have are women. Not even concubines to take the edge off,” Damen advised. “Their inner animals are caged and restless. It’s bound to get volatile.”
Vander threw his hand in the air. “We can’t just corral hundreds of women from around the star system and drop them in the middle of the Palladian capitol and tell the men have at it. It would make us no better than the rogues perpetrating the kidnappings in the outlands.”
“That’s not what I meant, Vander. If your warriors have hope there are mates to be found, women immune to whatever illness is affecting our own females, they would be more likely to stand with you rather than against you. Hope is what they need, but hope is a dangerous thing if you can’t deliver.”
Vander pursed his lips. “I’ve already said I would enlist the help of a matchmaker for my men.”
Jag shook his head. “This isn’t just about your men. That’s a good place to start, but it’s bigger than that. I think Damen is talking about all of Galaxa. Until we find out how and why this illness is affecting our people, you need to show every region there is hope.” He lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “Unfortunately, brother, you are fighting this battle on multiple fronts.”
“So, how do I fight, then?”
Damen clapped him on one shoulder and turned him toward the monitor. “You fight the battles you can win and move on from there. Take a mate. Even a skinny wishbone one will do the trick to show the Galaxan men there are women to be had.”
Vander’s jaw clenched and his eyes flared with emerald fire. A low growl, feral and menacing, came from the back of his throat and Jag’s eyes went wide.
“Jeez, bro. That creepy green shit just got real. What the hell?”
Damen nodded. “I take it back, Jag’s right. Whatever it is lurking inside you will not be satisfied with just anyone.” He gestured with his head toward the monitor. “You should know she asked me to send a transport to Nova Aurora to bring Ms. Wilder over.”
Vander’s gaze jerked to his chief. “Who?”
“Kari.”
He spared a glance for his brother and then looked back at his security chief. “When?”
“This afternoon.”
Brows knotted, the king spared a glance for the monitor before turning the full weight of his stare on Damen. “And you didn’t think to clear it with me?”
“What do you think I’m doing now?”
Irked, Vander frowned. “Good. Kari may have my ear and my affection, but she doesn’t run me or Galaxa.”
Amused, Damen met the king’s annoyed glare with a smirk. “So, what about Ms. Wilder? Do I fetch her? I vote yes, especially since your moody ass tells me you need to get laid and soon. And not by some Auroran stick figure.”
“I’m king, Damen. With the snap of my fingers I can have my cock serviced any time, day or night. I think we’ve gone beyond that.”
“You’re right. We’ve moved beyond that. All of us. We are in uncharted territory, Vander. Everyone knows you can have anyone you want, either on their back or knees, or both for that matter, but my guess is every position in the sex manual won’t help what’s prowling inside you. Let the elders squabble about the origins of that eerie glow in your eyes. If you ask me, I think it’s connected to you finding your mate. That mysterious light is somehow connected to your xenos. Who cares about its origins? Once that wildness surfaces, it will need a soft counterpart to temper its feral nature. At least, that’s what the archives allude to.”
Vander glanced at Kari again, the muscle in his cheek working overtime. “Where in the archives did you read all this?”
“Deep in the council records. The archives also describe the warrior king’s xenos as a savage cat. One that takes great chunks out of its prey, taking pleasure as the poor creature bleeds a slow death.”
The king’s jaw tightened even more and Damen put his hand on his shoulder. “You know something, don’t you?”
Vander shook his head. “Nothing for sure. Just nightmares. But they were just as you described.”
“Which part?”
The king’s face was a mask of concern. “All of it. The savagery of it was like nothing I’ve seen.” He eyed his friend. “I think you’re right. I think my xenos is rising, and if I don’t find a mate to check its viciousness soon, Galaxa will suffer. If it can happen to me, then it can happen to every warrior on the planet.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, the king eyed his friend, sparing a look for his brother. “Send for Ms. Wilder. In the meantime, I need to make a trip to the outlands and let them know they haven’t been forgotten. I want you both to accompany me to show House Kasaval is united in trying to stop the kidnappings, but also in trying to solve the mystery of why our women are dying. Maybe there’s something in the oral traditions of the nomadic tribes that can give us a clue.
“When do we leave?” Jag asked. “Remember, I just got back. Do I have time to shower and grab a decent meal?”
Vander nodded. “We’ll leave at dawn.”
“What about Ms. Wilder?” Damen asked.
The king spared a glance for the monitor and then turned to his chief. “Send for her. If she arrives before we get back, I’ll have Maddox entertain her until we return. She and I should talk.”
“Maddox entertain a woman like Gerri Wilder? But he’s older than dirt.” Jag laughed.
“He may be old, but he’s the best chamberlain any king could want. He’ll make her comfortable e
nough until we get back.”
3
Ivy Grimaldi closed her mailbox and locked the hinged metal door. “Damn junk mail,” she muttered, climbing the stairs to her apartment with the overflowing stack against her chest.
She dropped the mail on the hall credenza and flipped through the pile of bills and flyers, tossing them aside one by one. A pretty scalloped envelope peeked from the stack of junk and her hand froze.
“Cassie.” She pulled the letter from the pile, her cousin’s name barely a whisper on her lips.
Turning the envelope over, Ivy hesitated at the note scrawled across the top. She recognized the looping script along with the logo for the Paranormal Dating Agency. Both belonged to Cassie’s old boss, Ms. Gerri Wilder, matchmaker and everyone knew it.
Ivy frowned even with Cassie’s voice in her head warning her to be nice. Ms. Wilder was not her favorite person. Not since she convinced Cassie to go off on some man-hunting wild goose chase, only to have her cousin end up pregnant with a bear shifter’s baby. A man she barely knew.
Talen was hot as hell, remember?
She frowned, regardless how true the memory.
…AND he ended up being the man of Cassie’s dreams. You can’t deny that.
Ivy muttered to herself. “I can if I try hard enough.” She scanned Gerri’s note again and the matchmaker’s words: We need to talk.
Wiggling a finger beneath the letter’s triangular flap, Ivy frowned. “Yeah, we need to talk. No shit, Gerri Sherlock Wilder.”
A heavy thud jerked Ivy’s eyes toward her front door. “I’m not a detective, dear, though I do like a man who smokes a pipe, especially if his pipe is well-endowed, if you know what I mean.” The stylish older woman winked from the open door, bending to pick up her heavy purse from where she dropped it to gain Ivy’s attention. “And yes, we do need to talk. It’s why I dropped by.”
Stunned, Ivy stared at the elegant woman with her classic designer style and vintage sex appeal. It was no wonder Cassie fell for what Gerri sold, hook, line and sinker.
“Are you going to invite me in or is it your plan to stand there with your mouth open and stare at me?”
Still gaping, Ivy snapped her mouth closed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Wilder. I’m just surprised to see you. Please, come inside.” She moved to usher the older woman in and then closed the door.
“You know, dear, the only time a woman’s mouth should hang open in that kind of shock is when faced with an enormous dick.”
Ivy blinked. Speechless.
Gerri peeled off her Chanel jacket and draped it neatly over Ivy’s couch. “I’m not one for showing up unannounced, but this matter really is time-sensitive, so why don’t you pour me a glass of wine and then you can read Cassandra’s letter.”
Ivy motioned for Gerri to take a seat on a barstool in front of the granite counter separating the kitchen from the spacious living room. “Red or white? I have both.”
“Is it a good white?”
Ivy gave the matchmaker a look. “It’s a Pinot Gris from my family’s vineyards in Napa.
“Hmmm, yes.” Ms. Wilder paused. “I had forgotten how privileged you and Cassie are in this world. Ironic, really, considering Cassandra is such a sweet girl. So unpretentious.”
“As opposed to me?”
Ms. Wilder shook her head. “You both have the same good-natured temperament, though you are wound tighter than Cassandra. You’re stronger, more independent. If I had to venture a guess, I would say you were the domineering cousin growing up.”
Ivy pressed her lips together, squashing the tickle of a grin at the corner of her lips.
Gerri nodded. “Ah…I’m right, aren’t I? You were the bossy one.”
Closing the fridge door with her elbow, Ivy moved to the counter with the wine bottle in her hand. “Maybe, but I love Cass like a sister. Like I love myself. We were an unstoppable team. We could do anything. Deal with anything. As long as we did it together. Out of everyone in the family, she and I were the only ones who didn’t give a damn about family status or money.” She paused, considering the older woman. “But you already know that, don’t you? Though I haven’t a clue how.”
“How what, dear?”
Ivy shrugged, uncorking the bottle before reaching for two long-stemmed glasses. “How you know things. People’s wants versus needs, and how you bring them about.”
Gerri took the glass from Ivy’s hand and held it as the younger woman poured the wine. “It’s my job to know those things, and I’m not shy about it. Not with a 100 percent success rate,” a small grin tugged, “eHarmony’s got nothing on me, sweetheart.”
Ivy poured her own glass, keeping Gerri in her peripheral vision. “That a fact?”
Ms. Wilder lifted her wine to her lips. “It is okay, Ivy. I get your reasons for the slight hostility toward me. Cassandra was a big part of your life and when she met Talen, their relationship threw you. Especially since it all happened so fast. It was the first time she didn’t need you, but what you don’t understand is that she does need you and always will. Moreover, what you have to accept is your life is bigger than your bond with your cousin, and destined for more. Much more. Both together and apart from her.” Taking a sip of the pale liquid, Gerri gestured to the letter on the counter. “Open the letter.”
Ivy took a big gulp of her own wine and tore open the buff-colored envelope. She scanned Cassie’s words, her jaw going slack. “Holy fuck! She’s having the baby already? So soon?” The words hung in the air as unbelieving as her stunned look. “Jesus. Those two are barely back from their honeymoon.”
“She and Talen are over the moon about how quickly this is happening. That man is one giant bear hug waiting to happen, and when I say giant, I mean GIANT.” Gerri hesitated in her reply, considering Ivy. “Shifters and humans. One never knows which way things will turn or how fast when it comes to children. If they’ll take after the human side or the shifter or both, for that matter.” She smiled. “It’s always a surprise.”
Ivy scanned Cassie’s words again, one line biting into her stomach—“Please come, Vee. I know Gerri isn’t one of your favorite people, but I miss you. Let her help you.”
Visiting Cassie would be coolest thing, except her cousin had moved. No, not out of the state or even out of the country. Cass had left town for another planet. As in a galaxy far, far away. As crazy as that sounded, it was the honest-to-God truth. Ivy would never have believed it if Gerri hadn’t provided irrefutable proof. So as much as she wanted to visit Cassie, it wasn’t as easy as taking the family jet and dropping in for a cup of coffee or a quick pizza.
Ivy would probably need clearance for everything including her underwear to visit Cassandra, and while she loved her cousin, she didn’t know if she could allow anyone to go through her bags, let alone her delicates.
What if they sniffed or did weird shit with her thongs when she wasn’t looking? Nope. She couldn’t do it. Her thongs were off limits to anyone except whatever man was presently allowed to peel them from her body, and right now, she had no man. Crazy but true. Her current dry spell had lasted six months and it was taking its toll. Thank God for battery-operated boyfriends or her bitch-o-meter would be off the charts.
She’d broken up with her latest boyfriend for the simple fact he was happier with his ex-wife. At first, it was kind of weird dating a guy whose ex was so nice, but after a while it was clear his ex-wife still had feelings for him and vice versa. Ivy decided to remove herself from the equation and allow them to give it another shot. Would it work out? Who knew? But at least she wouldn’t feel bad about being the reason they didn’t give themselves another chance.
Okay, brain wandering much, Ivy? She mentally scolded herself. Why the idea of thong sniffing would bring her ex-boyfriend to mind was beyond her and she dismissed the thought. It’s not like he knew what to do with her thongs anyway. Ever.
The dude was definitely in the needs work department when it came to sex, and at thirty-five years old, Ivy was done with
training men. The next guy she hooked up with would need skills. Big skills. And a big dick.
She shook her head again. Enough wishful lusting. Visiting Cassie was the issue at hand. She and Cass had always been there for each other and now her cousin needed her more than ever. How could she say no?
Reading between the lines, Ivy knew Cassie was freaked about delivering her baby alone. Not that she blamed her. Cass was human and Talen was an alien shifter. An alien bear shifter, to be exact. But not an Earth kind of shifter.
Talen’s kind was the original prototype. Undiluted alien. ALIEN. Ugh. The word still conjured images of little green men, except shifters from Nova Aurora were the farthest thing from that. For some reason, the birth scene from the movie The Fly ran through her mind and Ivy shuddered at the horror in her head.
Gerri put down her glass with a loud clink. “That’s quite enough of that!”
Ivy jumped. “What?”
Pointing a finger at her across the counter, Gerri frowned. “Your Hollywood special effects kind of nonsense. Cassandra is no more worried about delivering her baby than any other expectant mother. Human or otherwise. As for Talen, he’s as dual-natured as any Earth shifter…just bigger…and hotter…and more well-hung. Like all alien shifters.”
The older woman said a mouthful and heat crested in Ivy’s cheeks. Was it because Gerri called her out or because her panties dampened at the thought of a well-endowed shifter hottie? Yep, it had been a long six months.
She held out Cassie’s letter to Ms. Wilder, but the matchmaker shook her head. “I know what it says, dear. I was there when Cassandra wrote it.”
“How is Cass?” Ivy asked, putting the letter down and picking up her wine. She stared at the pale liquid before meeting Gerri’s eyes. “I mean for real. You said over the moon, but are you sure she’s okay?” She was almost afraid to know. The idea of childbirth was the one thing that scared her, that and losing Cassie.
