Jared.
By the time Emerald halted at the path to the Sacred Stones, tears were streaming down Erin’s face. She leaped from the car and ran into the force of the wind. “Jared!” she cried, but the wind stole her voice.
Heart pounding and lungs burning, Erin sprinted with all her might up the trail. The minute she reached the clearing, she saw him, a wolf-like man in the center of the Sacred Stones, howling in agony, body twisting with savage pain.
“Jared! No!” Erin didn’t care what happened to her. It didn’t matter what they had to do. There had to be another answer besides the one he’d chosen. If he needed Chosen blood, she’d give him Chosen blood, but he had to live.
As if fighting a hurricane, she forced her way into the circle and threw her body against the wolf, trying to knock him from the center of the stones.
He roared, and she could see that his mouth bled where his fangs had gnashed in his agony. His iridescent eyes were dull, grayed with a horrible pain. “Leave now!” he shouted, repeating the very first words he’d ever spoken to her.
“No! Never!” Erin threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him with her whole being as the wind lashed at them.
Jared fell to his knees, his dark despair made worse by Erin’s pain. He could have handled his own agony and stood like a warrior until his final moments, but the burden of her pain brought him to his knees, wrenching his being apart. He screamed as his body convulsed and his spirit twisted from him.
He floated up from his body and hovered above the Sacred Stones, seeing the perfection of their design, the harmony of fire and water, heaven and earth, life and death, man and woman, and that which united them all—love.
A strong bright light reached to him, warming him as it pulled him closer. He heard once again the glorious ecstasy of the angels in song and felt a spirit wind flow over him, freeing his spirit.
“Jared!” Erin cried.
The ragged agony in her scream ripped his gaze from the light and he saw her holding his mortal body, her lips pressed to his as she sobbed for him. He reached his hand toward her, wanting one last chance to gaze into her golden eyes, one last chance to feel the pleasure of her spirit soar with his, one last chance to tell her that he loved her.
“Erin!” he cried. But she didn’t hear him. He dropped his hand, fisting it as the pain of their parting stabbed through his spirit.
“Jared!” Erin screamed, shaking his lifeless body, refusing to believe she’d lost him forever.
The wind suddenly died.
“Oh, God,” Erin cried. She didn’t care if Jared was flawed or different. She loved him. Heart breaking with more pain than her body knew how to bear, she pressed the heel of her joined hands to his chest and pumped hard, then placed her mouth on his, forcing the very breath of her soul into his, calling upon all of her training and love to bring him back to life.
She loved him, she’d never give up. Again and again, she pumped his heart and breathed for him until finally, his body shuddered. His open eyes were no longer a dull, lifeless gray, but shone with a bright iridescent blue that pierced right through her as he met her gaze.
“Jared,” she whispered.
“Erin.” He pulled her into his embrace, against the solid, steady beat of his heart. “I love you,” he said, rolling until she lay under him, and the press of his hard body heated her from the depths of her heart to the tips of her toes.
She threaded her fingers into his hair as it fell in a curtain about them, shutting out the world. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her then, long, deep, and hard. What lay in the future didn’t matter right then. There would be time to face it together. What lay in the past didn’t matter either. They’d conquered it. Only this moment in time, only this man, only his kiss, and only his touch were all that mattered.
Epilogue
Erin eased back from Jared’s consuming kiss as the world intruded. They were still within the circle of the Sacred Stones. She wished they were somewhere else, somewhere where she could share the love bursting in her heart, share the joy of holding him in her arms and loving him completely. But the world would not go away.
“Calm down, Em. It’s not the end of the world,” came the sheriff’s surprisingly amused voice from the direction of the path to the clearing. Though she couldn’t see her friends yet, Erin knew they were almost upon them.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Samuel T. Sheridan. You gave me a bloody speeding ticket!”
“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” the sheriff said.
“Why don’t both of you can it until we see Erin and Jared. How can you be so sure they’re fine, Em? Finding his amulet on the path is a bad sign to me. The metal is still warm from his skin. People disappear from here. You know that.”
“She must have seen it in her crystal again. You knew he was going to be fine all along. So what was that argument this morning all about? I am not anything close to a blathering gack,” the sheriff said, grieved.
“I didn’t see it in my crystal. It’s just a logical deduction,” Emerald replied. “They’re too bloody quiet for anything to be bad. Besides, the wind has calmed.”
Erin knew the moment her new friends reached the end of the path. There were two shocked gasps and an amused male chuckle at the sight of Jared’s naked body.
“Hold on, luv. I’ve got a towel in the Mini. It’s not much, but it’ll do.”
Erin laughed. “It’ll do just fine.” She’d developed quite a fondness for Jared clad in that killer kilt.
Upon leaving the Sacred Stones, Jared walked as a mortal, with no regrets for anything he’d left behind in the spirit realm. His willing sacrifice and the cleansing power of the ancients had freed him from the Tsara’s poison. He could feel the change within him and the absence of pain. The fire that had been consuming him since he’d awakened on mortal ground was gone. He knew in his heart he was no longer a Shadowman, but he was still a warrior, a protector who would go on to fight for that which was pure, right, and good within the mortal world. His body felt as strong as ever, but different, cleansed.
Just before they reached the path leading to the road, he turned to scan the line of trees encircling the glittering stone pillars. For a moment, he thought he caught sight of a black wolf in the deep shadows, but before he could even say Aragon’s name, the vision was gone.
He wondered if this was because of his new life, but feared that it was something more than that. Aragon had lost his amulet, the very symbol that proclaimed him a warrior. Why? Dr. Batista carried the amulet clutched so tightly in her hand that Jared wondered if Logos’s emblem wasn’t permanently etched upon her palm.
Reaching the road that led from Spirit Wind Mountain, Jared made himself a promise to return to the Sacred Stones soon to look for the black wolf, to use the power of the ancients to help him speak to Aragon. But today his heart was with Erin, as it would be the rest of his mortal days. This woman had gentled his warrior’s spirit with the beauty of her own. She’d reached into his darkest despair and grasped his soul. Without hesitation, she had touched the wolf within him and claimed him as hers.
Seeing the red Mini and the sheriff’s flashing squad car—bigger, but not big enough—Jared swung Erin up into his arms. He glanced at the sheriff, Emerald, and Dr. Batista. “We’ll meet you back at the cabin. Take your time,” he said, then took off running.
“Jared!” Erin squealed as he ducked into the concealing foliage of the trees, drinking in the clean fresh scent of the morning air. He sent the mountain mists fleeing from the power of his stride and the passion of his need to be free.
“Jared! Put me down,” Erin demanded.
“No,” he said. He was anxious to get Erin alone and naked.
“Please,” she cried.
“Why?” he demanded, coming to an exasperated stop near a large boulder that sheltered them from the world.
“Because I want to kiss you,” she said, wrapping her ar
ms around his neck and bringing her lips to his.
“And I want you,” he said. He met her passion head-on, claiming her kiss and demanding more.
Leaning forward to kiss him harder, Erin wondered if Adam and Eve had it so good.
The End
More Titles by Jennifer Saints
Trevelyan Series Writing as Jennifer St. Giles
The Mistress of Trevelyan
His Dark Desires
Killdaren Series Writing as Jennifer St. Giles
Midnight Secrets
Darkest Dreams
Silken Shadows
Shadowmen Series Writing as Jennifer St. Giles
Touch a Dark Wolf
Lure of the Wolf
Kiss of Darkness
Bride of the Wolf
Silent Warrior Series Writing as J.L. Saint
Collateral Damage
Tactical Deception
Weldon Series Writing as Jennifer Saints
Wild Irish Ride
Smooth Irish Seduction
Hard Irish Luck
A Weldon Family Christmas
Frankly, My Dear Series as Jennifer Saints
Cocktail Cove
Upcoming Releases
Kaylee’s Justice, Case File 1 (Exposed Series – Book 1) April 2016
Illusions (Short Story) Romantic Times Las Vegas Anthology April 2016
What Didn’t Happen in Vegas (Silent Warrior Series Novella) Summer 2016
Wedding Undone (Frankly My Dear Series Story) Summer 2016
Bewitching the Wolf (Shadowmen Series – Book 5)
Two Weldon Weddings and a Funeral? (Weldon Brothers – Book 5)
Find Jenni online on her website www.jennifersaints.com, Twitter @jenniferstgiles, Facebook, Tumblr and Pinterest!
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Jennifer St. Giles/ J.L. Saint/ Jennifer Saints might have a split personality. Or as a nurse and mother of three, she knows how to multi-task. She writes in a number of genres from gothic historicals, paranormal thrillers, romantic suspense, and sexy contemporary romance. She has won a number of awards for writing excellence including, two National Reader’s Choice Awards, two-time Maggie Award Winner, Daphne du Maurier Award winner, Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award, along with RT Book Club’s Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Gothic/Mystery. She loves hearing from her readers via her website jenniferstgiles.com or you can find her on Facebook and Twitter @jenniferstgiles.
From the Author’s Mouth
What can I tell you about me?
I don’t play video games or watch horror because I can’t take the heat, but give me a kickass thriller every minute of every day and I am there. Be prepared for a Hoover Dam meltdown if you’re with me and the movie is sad. So, to avoid disaster, I love romantic comedies.
Never coffee. Always tea. Never beer. Always champagne. There’s more, but hey, gotta save some secrets until after the first date, right?
I grew up in Miami. Went to nursing school in Georgia, where I now reside. I raised and home schooled three great kids. I wrote for nine years before I sold a book, which made me a firm believer that a person should NEVER, NEVER, NEVER GIVE UP ON THEIR DREAMS.
I remember my father’s remark after a particularly scandalous story about one of my ancestors, a story that involves a conspiracy, treason, betrayal, murder, and execution, a story that after a drink or two in the bar, I might be enticed to share. Anyway, what my father said was, “You can’t keep a good man down.” And I kind of see that in myself. Not that I am necessarily good, because the definitions of moral words are often relative, but I do persevere, and I am resilient. Nothing in life has ever worked out the way I planned for it too. In many areas of my life, I have yet to reach the level I thought I would, of where I envisioned I would be, but I haven’t given up. I won’t give up. I continue to work hard and do everything I can to help who I can and to make my dreams come true.
Besides great kids, family, and friends, that perseverance has so far garnered me a USA Today Bestselling tag and twelve plus books on the shelf in a number of genres (contemporary romantic suspense, historical suspense, paranormal suspense, and contemporary romance). I’ve won a number of writing awards, two National Choice Awards, three Maggie Awards, a RT Book Club Reviewer’s Choice Award, the Daphne du Maurier Award, the Marlene Award, and the Golden Heart Award to name most of them. I work with several amazing women in a charity to raise money for a shelter that helps abused and homeless women and children. I’ve revived my nursing career after a long hiatus, have renewed my license, and have found the right job for now.
I know there are many more great things ahead.
I write romance because I believe that when you boil all of life down to its essence, if you take a human being to the very core of his existence, then you will find that what matters more than anything else is to be loved and to give love.
Life is all about choices and to pull from one of Erich Fromm’s quote, I choose to create and to love rather than destroy and to hate.
I hope you enjoy my stories.
Go forth, dream, believe, create, inspire, and love,
Jenni (J.L. Saint, Jennifer St. Giles, Jennifer Saints)
SOUTHERN BOUND
A Max Porter Paranormal Mystery
Stuart Jaffe
For Glory
Chapter One
Max Porter stood at the door of his new office—old wood with a frosted-glass window; the 319 painted in gold and outlined in black. The keys jingled in his trembling right hand. His left held Sandra’s hand tight. He wanted this job to go well for them. It had to.
Seven months without work had cleaned out the savings account Sandra’s father started on their wedding day. They had nothing left. The endless job search during a recession had been gut-wrenching. So when an opportunity came along, even one that meant moving to the South, even one as weird as this one, Max grabbed it. Seeing Sandra’s huge smile as he handed her the key made the decision feel right.
“You’re sure it’s okay for me to come in?” she asked.
“The note didn’t say anything about you.”
“I know, but it was so specific about a lot of things. Maybe we should check it again.”
Max laughed. “Go inside. I’ve got the job.”
With a girlish shrug, she kissed him quick and unlocked the door. The office dated back to the 1940s, and much of the original work remained—hardwood floors, two built-in bookcases with ornate but not obnoxious molding, a small bathroom on the opposite side, and three large windows giving view to the old Winston-Salem YMCA across the street (the word BOYS carved into the stone above one entrance, the word MEN above the other). Faux-lemon cleaners coated the air, and Max noticed the lack of dust anywhere.
He stepped closer to the bookshelves. His footsteps echoed around the high ceiling. He saw rows of reference materials—two German-English dictionaries, a full set of encyclopedias, a ten-volume local history, basic biology, geology, and physics textbooks, a few bits of fiction, and even some on divination.
“Strange,” Max whispered, letting out a long breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
“Got another note,” Sandra said standing in front of an imposing oak desk with a heavy, leather desk chair and two less impressive guest chairs. He followed her gaze to the desk blotter where he saw a manila envelope with his name written in a fancy script bordering on calligraphy. Beneath his name, in bold block letters read—OPEN IN PRIVATE.
Sandra hugged Max long and tight. “Told you he didn’t want me here.”
“What makes you think my boss is a he?”
“Much too dictatorial for a woman.”
Max thumbed the envelope’s corner. His failure to deal with a dictatorial boss had led to his firing. It was more than that, he thought but buried those memories as fast as they threatened to emerge.
“You have your own job to get to, you know.”
“Danishes and bread can wait.”
“Don’t you dare,” she laughed. “And don’t worry. I’m going,” she said with a wink. “Unless you want to play on the desk.”
Chuckling, Max pointed to the door. “You’re only offering that ’cause you know I can’t accept.”
“You’ll have to wait until tonight to find out.”
A man standing in the doorway cleared his throat. He wore a tailored H. Huntsman suit and smelled clean like he had just stepped from a shower. Not a whisker stood on his face nor did a hair dare to stray from its assigned location. “You’re early,” he said.
Max recognized the voice right away. The same voice that had called to interview him for a job for which he had not applied. The same voice that had hired him and helped negotiate the move to North Carolina. The same voice that had set him up with a used car, a decent apartment, and a signing bonus to get them started. Mr. Modesto.
“We are early,” Sandra said, extending her hand. “We were too excited to wait.”
Mr. Modesto looked upon Sandra like an insect. “You were not to bring guests this morning.”
“I was just leaving,” she said, mouthing Told you so to Max and adding, “Have a great first day. Love you.”
Sandra patted the door as she exited. He watched her move down the hall to the stairs on the end—her dark hair dancing on her shoulders, her not-too-thin I’m a real woman physique moving with enthusiasm. She made waking each morning worthwhile.
A hall door opened and an old lady with a coffee mug picked up her morning paper. She scowled at him. Modesto closed the door and said in his deep voice, “This building consists of apartments, some offices, and on the first floor, a small art gallery. Please keep in mind you have neighbors.” With a disapproving glare, he added, “You’ve not opened the envelope?”
Modern Magic Page 167
