Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  She really needed to clean it up, but right now, it hurt like the devil. It didn’t have to be disinfected, but since Ethan had seen her shot she would have to go through certain motions to hide her abilities. By morning, it would just be a faded scar and by evening even that would be gone, but first she needed to sleep. She cleaned off the area. While she couldn’t shift completely, she could elongate her nails to claws with the strength of steel. Wolverine from the X-Men had nothing on her.

  Using one of her claws, she sliced her skin. Now, it looked like the bullet had just grazed her arm but it still trickled a little blood. Good. This was the kind of cut a couple of butterfly bandages and some tape would take care of. She concentrated more and slowed her natural healing process, so it would remain like this if she had to tend herself in front of Ethan. By then, she was breathing heavily. She needed to get some sleep.

  A knock on the door momentarily startled her.

  “You okay in there?” Came Ethan’s voice muffled by the bathroom door.

  Edge opened it to let him in. Her injured shoulder was turned to him, so he could see the blood she couldn’t quite stop.

  “My God!” he exclaimed. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yeah, that happens when you get shot. But trust me, it could have been a lot worse.” She glanced down at herself. She’d done a good job. “This is just a scratch.”

  Looking concerned, he came further into the small bathroom and put the first-aid kit down on the vanity. “Sit,” he said pointing to the closed toilet seat. Then, he took the small cloth she’d been using and washed it out.

  She’d already rinsed the washcloth out, because she didn’t want him seeing just exactly how much blood there’d really been from her wound.

  He then soaked the cloth again in warm water and cleaned the remaining blood off her arm.

  There was nothing sexual in his mannerisms but damn, if his actions weren’t making her hot and bothered. If he actually tried to make her hot and bothered, the man would be more dangerous than a shot to the heart.

  With the area cleared, it looked just as she hoped it would, a cut not really deep enough for stitches. “See, told ya. All it’s gonna need is a glob of antiseptic cream on it and some butterfly bandages to do the trick.”

  “This still looks painful,” he said, once he finished cleaning away the blood, but then it began to bleed again. He opened up the kit and pulled out the things she’d named. Along with a pack of unopened Advil. “Here,” he said handing her two pills and filling the empty class on the counter with water for her to take them with. After he took the glass away from her, he cleaned the area a final time, then put gobs of antiseptic on it. “Do you think you can hold the skin tight while I put a couple of butterfly bandages on it?”

  “Sure, no problem.” She did as he asked and watched him place the bandages and wrap her shoulder in gauze to help hold it all in place.

  He bent his head at an angle and focused on trying to be careful and not hurt her.

  A sensitive man. Definitely not a killer, and yet he was cat. A dangerous predator, but not Clan and she couldn’t ask him about what she sensed. Or could she?

  “There, that should do it.” He raised his head and stared into her eyes.

  Edge gazed into those green eyes and caught a flash of gold, he blinked and it disappeared, returning to the original color.

  Ethan didn’t step away from her but his entire body straightened and went ridged. Maybe he’d seen an answering flash of gold in hers.

  Heat beat between them, she could smell it and now knew he could scent her own.

  “This should probably be cleaned and looked at again in the morning,” he said, not addressing the under currents moving back and forth between them. He obviously did not want to act on the mutual attraction, nor would they talk about their unique heritage.

  Fine, she understood. They were both bound by laws stretching through the ages for the protection of their kind, even among their kind. “Yeah, that’s a pretty good field dressing.” She grinned. “Have you done this before?”

  He smiled back and the moment of sexual awareness passed—for now. “Not for a gunshot wound.”

  Ah, yes, the sports enthusiast probably had to tend injuries of his own. If she weren’t very, very careful, she could be seriously attracted to this guy. Too bad, he was just a job, as well as a wanted man. She had to keep reminding herself of that, even if she believed him innocent. There could be nothing between them. “Thanks, anyway.” No matter what she told herself, her skin still tingled where he held onto her arm, even though he’d been finished for five minutes now and she was in no rush to have him release her.

  He did let her go though, once he realized there was no longer a need to hold onto her.

  She stood up but he remained near, if she leaned forward even a little in their cramped space, they would again touch. Chest to chest this time. The thought made her want to purr. “Listen it’s been a long day,” she said instead. “I’m going to lie down and get some sleep. You and me need to talk, but in the morning. I need you to stay here until then.” They stared at each other for a moment. “I want your word, Mr. Graves.”

  He raised one fine eyebrow at her. “Why would you accept my word, Ms. Edgewater?”

  “Because I believe you are an innocent man. Damned, if I know what difference it should make, but it does and because your stepbrother pissed the hell out of me. Now…your word. Don’t make me have to hunt you down again.”

  Ethan grinned, but this time, he lost the weariness evident earlier in his blue gray eyes. “On one condition.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Your name?”

  His request took her by surprise. “Edge.” The look on his face had her grinning this time.

  “Edge…hmm, it kinda suits you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, but I’d like to know your real name, and I’m Ethan by the way.”

  “Well Ethan, that’s a family secret. So now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to close my eyes and get some sleep as soon as possible. Where’s the bag I asked you to get?”

  “One sec.” He stepped out of the bathroom and returned with the bag.

  She opened it up and pulled out a t-shirt.

  “Do you need any help?” His eyes flashed dark blue as he spoke.

  Edge tried hard to ignore the heat in his gaze. “I can manage thanks.”

  “Ah, I’ll just give you some privacy then. Don’t worry I’ll clean up this mess as soon as you’re done changing.”

  “Thanks.” She was glad he offered to clean up, she barely had enough strength to pull her blood stained tank top and bra off. Washing both out in the sink, then hanging them up to dry over the shower stall. She cleaned the blood off her chest and pulled on her clean t-shirt before opening the door. She didn’t have strength left to even take a shower.

  Ethan got up from the bed he’d been sitting on and came toward her. “You okay?”

  “Of course.” She stepped out of the bathroom, allowing him to enter since she blocked the path through the door.

  As soon as she passed him he said, “I’ll just clean this mess up.”

  He left the door open and she lay on the bed closest to the bathroom. She couldn’t see him but she could hear him moving around. She yawned, her body already shutting down. Having to heal herself took its toll on her, as she seemed barely able to pull back the covers, take off her short boots and jeans, then climb under the covers. She didn’t have the energy to even brush her teeth. She called out to Ethan, “We’ll probably be heading out early in the morning.”

  “Okay.” He shut the bathroom door.

  She turned away from the bathroom and shut the light off. Her eyes were closed before she even hit the pillow. But her mind still couldn’t quite settle down. She took a risk he’d still be there when she woke up, but she had no choice here, other than to sleep. Still, it didn’t matter if he ran she would just find him again. The problem tho
ugh, innocent or not, he was still a wanted man and she had to take him in. After they had a little chat and after with any luck, they proved his innocence.

  She heard the door open again and Ethan moving around the room. She heard the rustle of clothing, like he took his jacket off and put his satchel down. Edge fell deeper into sleep, secure in the knowledge he’d still be there come morning. Or she would hunt him down.

  Chapter Six

  Ethan didn’t know why he didn’t run when he had the chance. Maybe because of those long legs going on for miles which he wanted wrapped around his waist. Maybe because of the feel of her full breasts pressed up against his back. Her heat searing him even through the leather jackets they both wore. Or maybe, the gun holster strapped to her waist he’d seen. Nah, it remained empty, they’d left the gun when he’d gotten them away from Richard. It was none of those things, not even the fact she’d been shot at, but even he could see she would survive.

  Nope, it was her eyes.

  From the time he’d seen them clearly, they’d gripped him, sucked him in and still hadn’t let go. He couldn’t disappoint the owner of those sexy eyes, large and slightly slanted. Like a cat. That flash of gold he’d seen in them earlier must have been a trick of the light. She couldn’t be like him, and yet? Even if she were, it still wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like he could ask her.

  The code of silence had been engrained in him since birth. His father only spoke of being Atrox a handful of times to him and about what it meant. As soon as he was old enough to understand and again, on his sixteenth birthday when he’d first changed. The conversation had been longer then, as had his training, most of it on shielding his abilities until it became second nature. What he learned first and foremost…his legacy was not to be discussed, not even among others he sensed like him. Not even to his mother. The heritage ran through the male line.

  He remained awake for a long while after Edge had fallen asleep, reading Sharon’s journal. Then he remained awake for a while afterward, because of the bitter taste remaining in his mouth because of reading the damn thing.

  Sharon’s own writings named Richard as the father of her child. They’d been having an affair even before her and Ethan married. Sharon liked the idea of sleeping with Richard, he wasn’t the only one, but he was the only one she’d been with for the last six months. At first, she led Richard to believe she would leave Ethan and marry him, giving her lover her shares in the company, along with controlling interest in Ethan’s corporate heritage. Something she knew Richard had always coveted. But lies, it’d all been lies. Mind fucks, one of her favorite past times.

  According to the journal, she’d been playing with Richard, she had no intentions of marrying Richard, in fact she’d already made arrangements to have an abortion. The last entry in her journal, the morning of her death, she wrote she would be letting Richard know that while they could continue their affair, there would be no divorce. And she’d decided, no baby. She’d set up an appointment to have it taken care of. Besides, she wanted to have Ethan’s child. His child would tie him to her as nothing else ever could.

  She liked being Mrs. Ethan Graves. His family name still carried a lot of power and prestige in the world she ran in, where family lines ran long and deep. Richard was not to the manor borne, no matter how rich he’d become.

  Ethan guessed, if she did tell Richard that night, as she’d planned, it would have angered his stepbrother. He’d lived with the man for years and knew Richard had a vicious temper. On more than one occasion his father, Nelson Graves had to pay to pave over Richard’s mistakes. So yes, in a fit of anger Ethan could see him lashing out at Sharon, but still to kill her? He shook his head. The journal was enough to show Richard may have had motive to kill Sharon, but it still wasn’t enough to exonerate Ethan. At least not in the eyes of a prosecutor who hated the very air, he breathed. He would have to come up with a plan to get Richard to confess. It was the only way. And Richard would too, he loved to brag to Ethan about how he bested him…being another person who hated Ethan’s guts.

  He turned in the direction of the woman in the next bed. Edge. He smiled, obviously a nickname, but it suited her. Still, he would like her to tell him her given name. Maybe she could help him, since she knew enough to believe he was innocent. If he could just get her to postpone taking him in. Maybe between the two of them, they could set some sort of trap for Richard. Whether she was Atrox or not, his instincts told him, he could trust her. The one time he should have listened to them and didn’t, he ended up married to Sharon. This time, he would listen to his instincts.

  The noise of the shower going in the bathroom made him open his eyes. He stared at the foot long bean shaped brown stain on the ceiling. At some point, there must have been some sort of water damage. He turned to look at the other bed. The sheets were pulled back and empty. He must have really been tired, he hadn’t even heard Edge when she got up.

  Ethan lay there with his eyes closed, but all he could see was Edge, naked in the shower with his hands holding a washcloth and gliding it across every inch of her wet glistening skin. Unlike last night when he merely cleaned the blood off, he used the cloth in an entirely different way. Oh, yeah.

  He groaned, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his groin into the lumpy bed. The shower stopped and he froze. The painful woody he sported poked against the sheets. He needed to get a hold of himself before she came out. Inspiration struck in the form of his nemesis, he thought about the many ways he wanted to kill Richard. It did the trick and he rolled onto his back, but then the bathroom door opened.

  Edge stood there with nothing but a thin towel wrapped around her lean toned frame. Tall for a woman, so the towel barely covered her. Her thighs were all sleek power, the kind he wanted clamped around his waist, but the rise and fall of her chest drew his attention to the bandage and the tops of her plump breasts. In the moment it took his lungs to stop inhaling, he went from soft wood to molten steel. He raised one leg under the cover to hide the tent he might otherwise sport and put his arm up over his eyes. If ever there existed a time to groan it would be now, but even that was denied him.

  “Sorry didn’t mean to wake you. Forgot something.” She grabbed her bag and darted back into the bathroom.

  He needed to get himself under control. For starters, he threw the covers off and got out of bed. He stood up on unsteady feet and like a lightning rod, his underwear stretched out in front of him, so he made his way over to the only window in the room. Air—he needed air.

  Ethan wrestled with the window until he had it open, but it would only rise about halfway. Putting his head against the cool glass, he closed his eyes and took deep calming breaths. When he opened his eyes, he saw his bike and her car parked exactly where they left them last night. He wasn’t sure about the time, he couldn’t see the sun from the window, but it looked early. There wasn’t a lot of noise from traffic coming off the main road. The tent in his shorts subsided some and he took another sigh of relief just as the bathroom door opened again.

  He counted to ten slowly, before he turned around, waiting until he’d gotten to a more descent size and praying she no longer only wore a towel—praying she did. His chest constricted in disappointment to find her dressed in jeans and a tee, as she had been the night before.

  “Bathroom’s all yours,” she said smiling.

  Ethan really only wanted to hear the last part of her statement, but he couldn’t be picky. “Uhh,” thanks he managed, grabbing his clothes and moving past her to do his morning routine.

  When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he found her sitting on the bed checking her smart phone.

  She glanced up at him. “Sheesh and some people think women take too long.” Then she grinned. “But hey, the view was worth the wait.”

  He could feel his face blushing. He’d taken a little longer than usual because he had to give himself some relief in the shower. Thoughts of her being in the shower before him kept intruding while he washed himself. “Ho
w are you feeling?” He changed the subject to get back in control, as much control of his life as he had these days.

  “Fine, a good night’s sleep was just the thing.”

  “Maybe I should check that bandage before we leave.” He could just see the edges of the dressing at the top of her t-shirt.

  She glanced at her shoulder. “It’s okay. I managed to change it already.”

  “How’s it feel?”

  “Um, it’s a little stiff but fine.”

  “Any more bleeding?” he asked frowning. His strong sense of smell told him no trace of blood seeped from the wound. As though it had already healed. Instantly, his predator picked up a different type of scent from her, the scent of cat lay all about her. He’d suspected as much last night, something about the way she moved—she carried some shifter blood. It’s the only way her wound could have healed so fast. Didn’t matter—couldn’t. His life was shit right now—he couldn’t get involved with her. No matter how much he wanted to.

  “All dried. Really it’s fine.”

  He shook his head. Impossible, he must be losing it, all this stress over the last few months made him to question himself too many times. Of course, she wasn’t cat. What were the odds? Maybe the wound really hadn’t been as bad as he thought and it had stopped bleeding and clogged itself. He moved past her to his side of the bed and sat down. “Okay, so now where to?” he asked, tugging on his socks and boots.