by Sadie Hart
“I know. I still feel like I should go with her, but she hates being babied.” Rowan ran a hand through her hair, her nerves palpable, but Eden could see her trying to mask her emotions. No doubt trying to act like everything was okay. If that was what Ro wanted, they’d be more than happy to help her there. Rowan blew out a steadying breath. “What do you all want to eat? I got a new cook working the kitchen today, but if you’re looking for food from the master, I just made a fresh batch of homemade doughnuts.”
She gave them a forced smile.
“Peanut Butter Lovers?” Eden asked, her stomach rumbling. Rowan nodded, and her grin turned real.
“You bet your ass.” She glanced to Kennedy. “And you?”
“Same. You’re my hero.”
With a laugh, Rowan flagged down one of the waitresses. “Wanna bring us a large order of the PBLs I just made? And chocolate milk all around.”
After all, Eden thought with a wry grin, they couldn’t have peanut butter doughnuts without chocolate milk. It was like a Reese’s mouthgasm.
“You got it, boss.” The waitress hurried off for the kitchen.
A few minutes later, she returned carrying a large tray with three huge glasses of chocolate milk, and a stack of doughnuts still warm enough that the peanut butter frosting dripped down over the edge of each doughnut.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Eden said and snagged one off the plate, grabbing her chocolate milk with her free hand. She stared at the circle of gooey greatness. “My life is now complete.”
Both Rowan and Kennedy dove in as well, and for a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of them quietly chewing, followed by the occasional slurp of chocolate milk. Then Rowan leaned back against the booth, plucking at her second doughnut. “Plans for today, ladies?”
“Getting my sled fixed.”
“Thought you were doing that yesterday?” Ro frowned at her, but Eden just lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
“The guy was sick and Luke’s still out of town, so I have to use this guy if I want to get back out to work any time soon. Hopefully whatever he ate this morning settles better with him. Oh! Smug was there too. So I’ll be picking him up today.”
Both friends grinned. “Thank God. I was beginning to worry the poor pup had gotten lost in the elements. Mother nature is a bitch.” Ro said, then shoved another bite-sized chunk of doughnut in her mouth.
Kennedy made a soft sound in her throat for agreement. They all knew what it was like to lose a pet to the wilderness up here. Rowan had lost a cat to a coyote last summer, Kennedy her childhood dog to a black bear that had decided to go scavenging in her back yard. The fact that Smuggler had made it and wound up safely in someone’s house was damn near a miracle.
“So who’s the new guy? I knew Luke had someone working for him, but I’ve yet to see him.” A sly smile edged along Kennedy’s lips as she looked up at Eden over her glass. “Old, married, cute? You know you gotta spill the details.”
Three single woman in a small town in the middle of nowhere. There weren’t many people they didn’t know. Single guys were fewer and farther between.
“Bay Hollister?” Eden hadn’t heard of him before Luke had called her back to inform her he was on his way out of town, but that Bay could fix her sled easy. “Lives out on White Rabbit Road.”
“Never heard of him,” Ro said. Kennedy shook her head. They both pinned her ‘the look.’ The look that meant she was holding out.
Eden ducked her head slightly, white blonde hair falling over her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Kennedy slapped the table. “So he is cute.”
With a laugh, Eden jerked her head back up. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then spill it!”
And when Rowan poked her in the side to show her agreement with Kennedy, Eden couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, okay. When he wasn’t puking—”
“Ick,” Kennedy said, but Eden waved her off.
“When he wasn’t puking, he was cute.” Gorgeous, actually. She squirmed a little in her seat, remembering the tall man that had met her out in the snow. His face had been all angles and he’d had indents on both sides of his nose, no doubt from where he wore glasses—either for reading, or in the shop, she wasn’t sure.
And he’d felt muscled under that coat. Surprising, considering he’d looked stick thin, even under the parka, and the dark circles under his eyes had her wondering just how much sleep he got. Or if he was routinely as sick as he’d been that morning. But the moment she’d slipped an arm around his waist to help him to the door, she’d felt the corded muscle. A man obviously familiar with working hard for a living.
One look at her friends, waiting for the rundown, and Eden couldn’t hold it back. She spilled the whole story. When she finished, she was stuffed to the gills from her second doughnut, had drained her glass of chocolate milk, and was slumped back in the booth.
“So I’m going back today. Hopefully he’s feeling better and can work on the sled.”
“He sounds lonely,” Kennedy said, and while Eden couldn’t help but agree with her, Dee automatically assumed any single man in Mercy Pass was lonely. After all, the single women in the town were just as scarce as the men.
“Every single man in this town is lonely or crazy according to you.”
“Hey. Don’t harp. Besides, I might need to order me some wood.” Kennedy winked. “Hard wood.”
“Oh my God, don’t,” Rowan said. “That was bad.”
“The pun was fully intended.”
Rowan snorted, having to talk over Eden’s sudden burst of laughter. “Honey, you couldn’t tell a joke if you tried. Not one off the cuff.”
“What I actually meant,” Kennedy said, butting back in, “by saying he sounded lonely, was that he was sick and he had no one else other than Smug. That’s kind of sad. He probably doesn’t even know anyone else in town. When we get sick we can at least call each other.”
Eden smiled. Kennedy also had the biggest heart out of the three of them. “I’m not sure guys do the whole sick, pity fest thing.”
“Yeah, but maybe he should think of getting himself a dog. I’d go nuts living way out there with no one around.”
Rowan laughed. “That’s you, honey. Maybe he likes the quiet. Besides, no offense to Eden, but dogs bark. Holy shit, I couldn’t imagine living with one, let alone a whole gang.”
Eden listened as her friends bickered, enjoying the friendly solace for a few more minutes. She couldn’t dawdle all day. She had every intention of getting her sled fixed and getting some work done. Besides, when Bay Hollister wasn’t bowing in front of the porcelain throne, he was gorgeous.
She bit her lip and glanced at the clock. “Time for me to go, ladies.”
“Uh-huh,” Kennedy said, her eyes narrowed on Eden. “You’re off to see him, aren’t you?”
“Yep. And it’s for business.” Kind of.
Her friend didn’t buy it for a second. Dee arched an eyebrow, taunting. “Then take me with you.”
“No. Not a chance. He might be contagious.”
“I don’t care!”
Eden grinned and slid out of the booth, shaking her head. Business or not, she’d be seeing Bay Hollister solo.
Waving to her friends, Eden headed out of the Fairy Cat Café and strode across the snow-covered lot. One look at the sled still sitting in the back of her truck and the morning teasing drifted away. Her gaze lingered over the busted drive bow, the wood splintered at the edges. An image of the white wolf flashed through her mind, the hard impact of the snow as she’d hit the ground. She had a bruise on her side from the force of that animal’s blow.
Looking at the proof of the other day, and it felt real again to her. Like she wasn’t crazy. But the moment she thought of Kennedy’s picture, of the missing tracks in both circumstances, and her world started to tilt off kilter. Animals, real live animals, left paw prints behind. A wolf the size of a bear would have left a mark in the snow.
“
Oh, hell, you are not doing this to yourself now,” she muttered to herself, reaching out to grip the back of her pickup truck as she stared up at the sled.
Whether or not the wolf was real, Eden needed to get back to work. And that meant a fixed sled. Which meant her next stop was Bay Hollister’s. And if she were lucky, actually doing something productive might keep her mind on things she could control, and not on possibly imaginary wildlife.
Except figments of the imagination didn’t leave claw marks.
Chapter Four
Zeke Crawford groaned, his fingers icy with the cold, and he blinked against the sharp pain throbbing in his head. What the fuck had happened? He started to move when something slammed him back into the snow, hard enough that it drove the breath straight out of his lungs. His face felt raw, frozen, which was a step up compared to the rest of his body.
He felt like he’d been steamrolled with a thousand-pound porcupine. Sharp needle-like tingles shot down his spine. He tried to move again, his hands pressing deeper into the snow to try and heft himself up, when a dark growl rumbled through the air around him. Followed by the rush of hot air against his cheek. Fuck me. Panic settled into his bones as his mind finally caught up to what was happening. Bear. So much for a leisurely walk around the yard. He must have gotten sideswiped by a goddamned bear.
Play dead, play dead, play dead. The words were a mantra in his head, rapid fire, over and over again, and Zeke forced his body to go limp, reacting out of pure survival instinct. Surely if the animal thought he was dead it’d leave him alone. The bear gave a sharp snort from somewhere above him and the weight between his shoulders eased. Snow crunched nearby and Zeke nearly whimpered with relief. That had been too close. He waited, giving the animal time to move on before he’d dare try and stand again.
“Shhh,” a woman whispered and every nerve in his body suddenly went on alert. Zeke jerked slightly, his muscles tensing to move, when he heard the bear snarl beside him.
There was a chick out here too? And if she thought she could sweet talk a damned black bear she was wrong. Slowly, Zeke rolled his head, trying to get a look at the situation without moving enough to draw attention to himself. He wouldn’t be of any use to the lady if he ended up bear chow.
He saw the woman first. Her ghost-white complexion nearly blended in with the snow, offset only by her long black hair and red, ruby lips. The same color red as a hooker’s lipstick in some cheap porno flick. Zeke frowned. The damn girl had to be freezing too. Dressed in nothing but a sheer white gown that he could easily see-through. Sexy as hell, though. Probably the prettiest lunch this bear had ever seen.
Then she turned and looked at him, her eyes coal-black, and a hard shiver jolted down his spine. Something tainted and dark stared out of those eyes. Her red lips curved into a smile and a drop of red dripped down her chin. Blood?
“Hello,” she said, and leaned towards him, one hand splayed over the snow to hold her weight. Another drop of red dribbled past her lips and fell to the snow. Definitely blood. Zeke swallowed. Fuck, but this was some creepy ass shit.
Zeke slid his arms under his chest, ready to launch himself into motion when the bear growled again, this time moving into view. It wasn’t a bear either. And there wasn’t just one. Wolves. Each one as white as snow, big enough to give grizzly a good run for its dinner, and all of them stared at him, teeth bared.
“Shh,” the woman said again, followed by the warm caress of her fingers down his cheek.
I died. That’s it. Died and gone to Hell from the looks of it.
“You didn’t die,” she whispered. Her lips curved into a grin, the same wicked smile Zeke was sure the devil would wear, and more blood dribbled out of her mouth. With each drop that hit the snow came a rancid scent, one that made his stomach roll, and bile stick to the back of his throat. The woman blew softly across his face and he realized the stench was coming from her. Rotten. Vile.
“You didn’t die,” she repeated. “Not yet.”
Her hand played up and down his cheek, tracing feather-light circles against his skin. He could see three wolves, and those odds spelled a dismal chance for survival if he tried to run. A normal wolf or bear could have gutted him easily. Whatever the hell these wolves were, Zeke had a feeling they were even faster. He wouldn’t get far.
His tongue slid out, swiping over his dry, cracked lips. He needed time. To think, to come up with a plan. Keep her talking. He froze. She’d read his damned mind last time.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Quite easily. It’s a little trick of mine. And there won’t be any running.”
One of the wolves nosed closer to her, the beast’s black eyes intent on him, even as it sidled up to her, nosing at her for pets. The others crowded in like puppies. She extended a hand to Zeke. “I’m Morrigan. Queen of the Winter Fae.”
The what? She rolled the r’s in her name making it sound like a purr rather than a word. Not quite human. Vampire? Zeke fought hard not to groan. The fact that he was even considering such a thing said something about his sanity, and it wasn’t good. He was bound for a straight jacket. She scooted closer across the snow and caught his face between her hands. Her palms felt like icy shards against his cheeks, painful in their brutal cold, but Zeke didn’t dare pull away.
Her soulless eyes stared down at him, but there was no emotion in them. “Don’t run, I don’t want to kill you.”
She could have fooled him. The growling of her little pet wolves there said otherwise. Zeke tried to pull his head back but her fingers tightened painfully, her nails digging into his cheeks.
“Then what do you want?” he asked, his voice hoarse. As far as Zeke was concerned, any time someone was psycho said they wouldn’t kill you, they typically did. He wasn’t about to buy the whole I-don’t-want-to-kill-you bullshit. Nor did he want to stick around long enough to find out if he was right.
Staying wasn’t an option, but at the moment, nor was running.
“I want my people back.” Something in her face softened. Zeke couldn’t figure out what had changed. By all appearances she looked the same, but he could feel the sadness around her.
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“I need my power back first.” Blood dribbled from her mouth and she leaned down. Zeke jerked violently backwards, catapulting himself to his feet, but a paw slammed into his chest and he went spinning. Staggering, Zeke caught himself against the base of a tree, only to see the woman standing in front of him, close enough that her breasts brushed his chest as she breathed.
No one could move that fast.
“I can.” Morrigan grinned. One pale hand touched his chin. “Close your eyes, Zeke. It’ll be easier for you that way.”
He shook his head, ready to launch himself into a run, ready to die if it meant escaping, when suddenly his eyelids felt heavy. His body didn’t move. The white, winter world around him suddenly went dark.
Zeke stood there, one hand pressed against the rough tree trunk, and the tactile sensation helped keep him grounded. But when something wet pressed against his lips he stiffened, his entire body screaming at him to run. Panic made his heart pick up speed, a wild thud in his pulse. Blood oozed down his chin and then came the pain.
Agony so rich it made his knees give out, but arms held him in place. Small, slim arms that held more strength than Zeke ever would have thought possible. In his mind, Zeke screamed, a torturous, raw sound that left him hollow. Then his lips went numb and he couldn’t feel anymore.
Hush now. The words whispered through his head, soft and feminine. Morrigan. Hush. You’re mine now; let me take away your pain.
The soothing croon of her voice was the last thing Zeke heard before he passed out.
***
With shaky hands, Bay gripped the coffee mug as he sat on his back porch, not caring that the snow had long ago left his butt numb. Rascal lounged at his side, the pup’s head resting on his knee, but Bay didn’t dare look at the dog. Not when he could still remember the drea
m. The black haired woman was back. The one from the day of the car crash. He’d thought of her as just a dream, a nightly hallucination. Something not real.
Until Rascal and his blonde haired owner had waltzed into Bay’s life. Then he had started to wonder just how much of his dreams were real. God, how he hoped not much of them. The image of her lips dripping with blood replayed in his mind, the viper-like fangs she’d had for teeth when she’d turned to him, her lips pulled back in a hiss. But it was the memory of the man from last night’s dream that left Bay cold.
The ruddy haired victim that had slumped down into the snow, lifeless. Bay started to lift the cup to his mouth when he froze. Had he watched a man die last night? He couldn’t remember much. Blurry images of the woman, only clarifying when she’d turned and snarled at him. He’d done something, moved too close, whined—something—but she hadn’t liked it and he could still feel the pain of her mental backlash as she’d hissed at him. Back off.
And he had. Watching helplessly as she turned back to her victim. The dream had blurred then, only clarifying again with the image of the man falling into the snow, his face bloody. Dead or alive though, Bay didn’t know. He didn’t even know where to look to try and find the other man. He had nothing more than a face to go off of and it wasn’t like he spent much time in town. He’d never know if the other man lived in Mercy Pass, or if he was just another tourist in for the season.
Rascal whined next to him and Bay gave an exhausted sigh. “Hell, boy, I don’t even know.”
Dumping his morning coffee out into the snow, Bay gave up on trying to piece together the dream for his journal. Bracing one hand on his knee, he shoved to his feet and had started to turn back to the house when he heard the truck pull up. Rascal gave an excited bark and darted down the stairs, racing towards the blonde woman now getting out of the vehicle.
