Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  She planned to ride past her floor if necessary and find out where he was staying. The whole thought seemed desperate, and nothing like her usual nonchalant attitude where men were concerned, but something about this man struck her like a bolt of electricity. Her stomach clenched and rolled just being near him.

  Of course, what she would do when she found out his room number was anyone’s guess, but then she had never been much of a planner, even before she started running for her life. She described herself as a “just for today, fly by the seat of my pants” kind of girl. One step at a time. She watched him from the corner of her eye, doing a mental happy dance, Ferrell Williams joining her in a vocal duet and swinging her out when they reached the third floor and her gorgeous prey stepped off.

  She mentally skipped along after him and sauntered down the corridor towards her room, feeling like stalker girl as she stayed a respectable distance behind him. He stopped, swiped his keycard, and opened the door to his room. Anitra nearly passed by him until she noticed the room number – 333.

  She glanced at her keycard to make sure she had read the number right, then remembered the manager saying the number, too. This was definitely the same room, but the handsome hunk did not have any bags so they must have already been inside.

  Just as the door began to close, she stepped into the doorway. “Excuse me. I believe this is my room.”

  He turned, opening the door wider, his eyes narrowed. “And you are?”

  His deep, rumbling bass zinged straight to her core, resonating there like a slowly erupting volcano. She could not place his accent and her geography pretty much sucked, but his inflections were musical, conjuring visions of foreign lands. She held out her keycard so he would not think she was insane, and he reciprocated by showing her his as he raised a brow. He smiled, transforming the hard edges of his face. “I am Hunter.”

  “Oh. Um, Hunter, I’m Anitra.” She tried to figure out what could be going on. Mistakes were made every day, but this seemed too favorable to be a coincidence.

  “May I?” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss there, his gaze never leaving her face.

  Old school smooth. Anitra gasped. Her heart beat so quickly she heard it fluttering in her ears. His touch, his eyes, being this close to him, all made her body come alive, tingling, every nerve ending aroused and excited. As usual, her voice of caution spoke first. Go downstairs and get another key. Now.

  “Please come in, Anitra.” Despite the predatory look in his eyes, she was drawn to him. His powerful aura overrode everything else, and her connection to him grew even stronger. Rumor’s easy acquiescence strengthened her feeling of safety.

  Anitra stepped inside and looked around, completely ignoring the voice of caution. Foolish. There was that voice again. The appointments matched the ones downstairs, with mahogany furniture, golden interior parquet floors, plush cerulean blue and gold furniture, and a small kitchenette replete with resort-size stainless steel refrigerator and microwave. Perfect for keeping food but not to be mistaken for a place to prepare it. My kind of place.

  Hunter continued inside, but left the door open. She did not feel the least bit of trepidation, despite her voice of reason’s name calling. Nervousness, maybe, but she feared rejection more than anything. She knew he would not hurt her, but still appreciated the gesture. The open door meant he was aware of the intimidating effect he could have on the average person, but Anitra was not the average person. No, not by a long shot, and he had very likely sensed that, too.

  “We could share the living area. The bedrooms are on either side of it, and I promise not to infringe on your private space…or…” Hunter sighed, averting his gaze as he passed her and headed for the door, his abrupt change stunning her into inaction for a moment. “I can thank Ms. Lillian for trying and go downstairs to get another room, if you prefer to dismiss my company.”

  Is he changing his mind? Her stomach sank as his meaning became clear, despair giving her a swift kick when he stepped through the door and started to walk away. Rumor watched the altercation in silence, his ears moving up and down as he turned from Anitra to Hunter, then back to Anitra again in quick succession.

  “Hunter.” Barely more than a whisper. “Stay.” She would not let fear of rejection, fear of living, fear of any kind, keep her from ending the loneliness. Not tonight. Ms. Lillian. Just like the stories her dad had told her about. Of course, the thought had crossed her mind, but she could not help wondering why. Why would Ms. Lillian take such an interest in her? Whatever her reasons were, the woman was famous for miracles, and Anitra needed one.

  Hunter turned to face her again, his head tilted in the same manner people tilt their heads at art exhibits when they are interested in a piece, and Anitra caught a tiny spark in the midnight depths of his dark eyes.

  “You are certain?” He frowned, worked his jaw from side to side, and looked away.

  Hunter seemed confused. Had the man looked at himself in a mirror lately? Any woman with a good pair of eyes and working hormones would want him to stay.

  Anitra gathered her nerve, slid her fingers around her ears, tucking her hair behind them, and nodded. “This is starting to make sense now. How do you know Ms. Lillian?”

  “Let’s just say she accepted a challenge a few months ago. She agreed to do a favor for me.”

  A favor. “Oh.” Anitra looked down. She could not remember feeling shy in a man’s presence before, but she prayed she was that favor Ms. Lillian had agreed to grant Hunter.

  Hunter stepped inside and closed the door, stalking towards her, his movements slow, precise, and the word predatory surfaced over and over again as she watched him from lowered lids. Each step closer ratcheted her heartbeat by ten, and she wrung her hands to keep from reaching for him.

  He stopped less than an inch from her, just short of touching, and she looked up to meet his gaze. His body emanated heat. “Which bedroom do you prefer? There’s a private bath in each. I have no preference, so I’ll take the one you don’t want.”

  Taking in the split plan of their suite, Anitra chose the bedroom closest to the sitting area, leaving the one closest to the kitchenette for Hunter. She smiled, attempting to ease the awkwardness, then turned to set Rumor on the other side of the room. Politely taking her leave from Hunter, she went downstairs to the shopping area. Since she’d left without warning, she needed to pick up a few things for the night.

  Chapter Five

  After lying dormant for a very long time, Hunter’s heart stuttered. During his last excursion to the surface, Samhain, Ms. Lillian had made sure he knew where to be tonight. According to her, this could be the one. He believed her because her success rate was supernatural – he should know. Supernatural was his specialty as well. His stomach did an unfamiliar flip. None of that alleviated his fear, and getting his hopes up had only caused pain in the past, to him and anyone else involved.

  Anitra was certainly his type - beautiful chestnut brown skin, luminous hazel eyes, and full, womanly curves, yet she seemed tender-hearted. Her soul flickered brightly despite whatever troubled her. The moment he saw her on the elevator, he wanted to touch her, find out if she was as soft as he imagined, and feel something, anything to replace the soul-destroying darkness that had plagued him for centuries.

  Odd, but she had no bags, only the dog, who now sat, watching him from across the room. Anitra left, headed for the resort’s shopping area to pick up “necessities.” She had not asked him about his bags, so he certainly was not going to question her about hers. She did not need any bags. It was not as if she would believe him yet, but he could give her anything she wanted. She only needed to ask. Actually, she only needed to think it, and accept him. He would gladly do the rest.

  He beckoned for the dog, “Rumor,” she called him, who stood and walked over, no fear or suspicion in its eyes. Hunter had always wanted a dog. He remembered longing for one when his father sent him on missions, but even then, he had known his longing would be a death sent
ence for another innocent creature. Like everything else, he’d buried the unspoken desire, carrying out his father’s missions in heart-breaking obedience, always alone.

  Hunter held out his hand, palm-up, allowing Rumor to inspect it, then conjured a treat of beef tips. Rumor paused and glanced up to meet his eyes, even the dog realizing the occurrence was unnatural, and Hunter chuckled when Rumor backed away, beef tips untouched.

  “Hmm. So, you are simply watching over your mistress, I see. Either she has trained you well, or you are a very smart dog. Good.”

  He smiled and closed his eyes, wondering what she would think if she knew he heard her step off the elevator, her steps light on the carpeted hallway, the rustle of bags, and the swishing of her hips as she moved towards him. According to what he heard, she was not carrying much. He stood and swung the door open for her, reaching to take her bags.

  “Oh!” She laughed, covering her mouth with one hand – an adorable gesture, he thought. “I was just about to try and find that keycard. Thanks, Hunter. You’re very…um… thoughtful.”

  She stooped to the floor and rubbed Rumor’s ears, speaking a language Hunter assumed they alone, shared.

  He reined in the derisive bark her last comment elicited. If not for his evil genetic makeup, he would never have gotten in the situation he found himself in now. He watched while Anitra continued cuddling her dog, wishing he could have her trust, find some way to be close to her, not only her body, but her heart. Born of a demonic father, literally a fallen angel, and a carefully chosen human woman captured and forced to bear him, Hunter’s birth was heralded by the demonic community as a sought after genetic anomaly with the ability to conjure anything imaginable. He was a genie, or jinn, as humans called him, a cursed existence, constantly reminded he should not wish for such things as companionship or warmth.

  Hunter’s penance started before he was born. His mother died in childbirth, leaving him to be sold to the highest bidder by his sadistic father, who never forgave him for the fact that no one wanted to purchase a child they had little chance of controlling – no matter what he could do. Love was something he had only experienced once, only to have his heart ripped apart by its tragic end.

  He quickly learned that in addition to his gift of bestowing great pleasure came the ability to destroy with a fleeting thought. Most only wanted him for what he could do for them. Despite the fact that only one had ever loved him, he could not seem to tamp down his annoying desire to be cared for. Apparently that one taste of love left him longing to find it again. Anitra did not have to love him. He had given up on that a lifetime ago, yet and still…

  He shook his head, grimacing as he mumbled to himself in the ancient Aramaic tongue. “What the fuck, dumb ass? Stop dreaming about what you can never have. Must be that sappy human half.”

  “Hunter?”

  He grimaced again, realizing he had spoken aloud, and certain she had not only heard but understood at least part of what he said. To his surprise and relief, Anitra was still smiling, her gaze questioning. “Did you just say something?”

  “Just talking to myself. I do that from time to time.” He cleared his throat. Now she knows without a doubt there’s something wrong with me.

  “What do I smell? Smells edible.”

  Hunter gestured towards the beef tips he had placed in a small dish on the coffee table. “I got them for your dog, Rumor, but he wouldn’t eat them without your permission.”

  Anitra smiled. “Oh, he doesn’t eat from anyone else’s hands. He’s always been that way. Thank you, though. I’m sure he’s good and hungry by now.”

  She picked up one of the tips, sniffed and licked it while Rumor waited patiently at her feet. Hunter recognized her behavior as protective, and warmth suffused his large frame as he watched her, longing again for something he could never expect to experience again. Finally, satisfied the food was safe, she set the plate in front of Rumor and he gobbled the tips down with gusto, giving her full credit for their creation, no doubt.

  Anitra looked down at her bags in his hands and rolled her eyes as she peered into his face again, her gaze never quite making it to his eyes. “Guess I got a little carried away.”

  Hunter frowned, grateful she had not made much of his short stroll through his sordid history. He glanced at her bags again before placing them on the bar. “What do you mean? You only say things like that when the concierge has to roll your bags up behind you.” He wondered how many of his emotions had just crossed his face. Most humans along his path never seemed to get enough material things, yet she chided herself over a few indulgences. Refreshing.

  She smiled at him and he smiled back, her warmth infectious. “Ready to eat something, milady?” Grateful he managed to get the question out without his voice changing, yet another consequence of his misbegotten birth, Hunter tried to tamp down the flash of raging desire apparently elicited by her smile.

  “Oh, you waited for me? I figured you’d go ahead and eat since it took me so long,” she said, her long lashes shielding her expressive, chameleon-like eyes.

  He stood transfixed as Anitra sauntered over to him and reached up, brushing her soft lips across his. Her mind and body spoke to him, and his overwhelming desire rushed up to overtake him, nearly robbing him of reason, but he could not act on it…yet.

  “I was thinking that perhaps we, if, well, would you do me the honor of accompanying me downstairs for dinner? There’s a five-star restaurant there, and everything I’ve tried so far has been excellent.”

  “Oh. I’d like that. Thank you. So, you’ve been here before. How many times?” she asked.

  “A few. This place has a very long history. In fact, it is rumored to have been here since before the 16th Century, before St. Augustine was officially founded by Europeans.”

  “That’s fascinating! How do you know all that?”

  “I’m a bit of a historian, I guess.” It had not been his intent to mention the history of the bed and breakfast, but he was surprised and touched by her genuine interest. His inability to forget anything, no matter how small, made him a walking encyclopedia of sorts, and it felt freeing to share some of his knowledge.

  “I’ve been trying, but can’t quite place your accent, Hunter. Where are you from?”

  Hunter remained expressionless, wanting to tell her the whole truth, but he chose to tell her a small portion instead. “I have travelled and lived many places. You probably hear a unique mixture of middle eastern dialects.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and licked her luscious-looking, full lips. He wondered if she was aware that the stance pushed her full breasts up, rendering it impossible for him to ignore them.

  Hunter clamped his arms by his sides to keep from grabbing her, crushing her soft body against his burgeoning erection, which he was certain she would feel since his swollen cock threatened to burst through the zipper of his jeans. Nearly cringing at the thought, he remained as still as possible to avoid behaving like the monster he was. If any good was left in him he would leave without touching her, but he wanted her too desperately to do that.

  “I didn’t think to buy a dinner dress, but—”

  “It’s okay. I noticed you didn’t have any bags, so I had something brought up for you. Wait here, please.”

  Hunter stepped into his bedroom and closed the door, imagining the perfect dress to highlight her curves. A few moments later, he returned to her carrying a blush-colored evening gown on one arm.

  Anitra’s face lit up, her luminous eyes beaming at him as she reached to accept the dress. “How did you…did Ms. Lillian tell you?”

  Hunter avoided her questions because on one hand, he didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to frighten her. “It should be the correct size, and the color…”

  “I love this color. This is, I’m just speechless. I didn’t expect anything like this. I’ll go try it on and get ready.”

  Hunter conjured a black tuxedo for himself, changing in an instant
as he moved across the room, then waited for Anitra.

  Sitting across from Hunter, Anitra felt like a modern-day, real-life Cinderella. Of course, she was more of a knife toting Jessica Jones running from the mob, without the super strength, but why quibble about details. The Spanish-inspired decór, Earth-tone brick walls, and teakwood beams on the ceiling with long beams of light hanging from them, all added to the fantasy.

  “So, what do you like to do when you’re not taking strange women to dinner, Hunter?”

  Hunter smiled. “You don’t seem all that strange to me. You taste your dog’s food to make sure it’s safe, but I don’t have a problem with that.”

  They shared a laugh, easing into a lively conversation, and Anitra found herself relaxing more and more in his presence. He asked no questions, and seemed to know something about every topic she mentioned. Drawn in by his unexpected shyness, she leaned towards him, encouraging him to share more, and less than half-an-hour later, she noticed that he was doing the same, leaning towards her, his wide shoulders relaxed as they talked.

  Following a short deliberation, Dinner consisted of Cornish hens with cherry sauce stuffed with yellow squash and oyster dressing, and Monkey Bay Pino Grigio. Anitra sat back in her chair and slid her hand down her stomach. “Oh. My. Goodness. That was so good! I ate like a pig, and now I’m too stuffed to move.” She laughed.

  Hunter smiled. “You could never eat like swine. I enjoy a woman who is not ashamed to eat in my presence, or anyone else’s presence, for that matter. Anyway, if you are too stuffed to move, I will be more than happy to carry you.”

  His reaction to her comments surprised her, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. The fact that he used the word ‘swine’ not only reminded her that English was obviously not his first language, but Hunter’s use of the ‘old world’ term conjured images of another time, long before the present.