Francesca shook her head. She watched Seamus, gray gaze wary but interested. “I thought Seamus was being overly cautions, though I didn’t disagree with him.”
“You found Katie,” Dylan went on. “In the entire wilderness, you just happened to find her in time to save her life. I think you homed in on her distress.”
Seamus’s hold on the chair tightened even more until Bree was surprised the wood didn’t splinter. “If that’s true, why haven’t I noticed it all this time? I think I would have at some point, don’t you?”
Dylan shrugged. “Maybe it only flares when the anguish of the Shifter is great enough to pull you in. Maybe other times, it’s subtle enough that you think it only natural compassion. I notice you haven’t been able to stay away from Bree. You found her and you’re hanging on to her.”
Seamus said nothing. He bent to Bree, touching his lips to her neck, and didn’t answer.
“What does all this mean?” Bree was getting a little tired of Dylan’s profound announcements. “That you’re going to make Seamus stay here while you watch him and see what he can do? He spent all this time successfully not being trapped, and now you want him to lock himself in with you so you can study this empathic ability? Or are you going to let him go? I think you need to answer, Mr. Dylan Morrissey. Right now.”
CHAPTER 16
Seamus felt Bree’s anxiousness and anger. Felt it, for real, coming up into him. He also felt her desire, both physical and emotional. For him.
Empathy? Or a Shifter knowing his true mate?
“My daughter asked you a good question,” Nadine said, plucking another scone to pieces. “Well? What’s it going to be?”
Sean and Dylan looked only at Seamus, no one else. “We discussed it,” Sean said slowly. “Me and Dad and Liam. And we decided ...” He let out his breath. “That we’d be sorry excuses for Shifters if we made Seamus stay. You’re free to go, lad. Anywhere you wish. We’d like to hang on to Katie, but only for her own protection until she’s of an age to decide for herself, but you ... ” Sean lifted his hands. “It’s whatever you want. Francesca, you too.”
Now everyone was staring at Seamus. The many pairs of eyes on him—the intense blue ones of the Morrisseys, dark ones of Ronan and Rebecca, the light blue of Walker, interested ones of Carly and Bree’s mother, gray of Broderick and also of Francesca—made Seamus a little cagey. They were waiting to see what he’d do. Accept? Or run?
Francesca said, after drawing a breath, “I’m staying with Katie.”
Seamus figured she would. Katie was hers now.
The only person who didn’t look at him was Bree. Seamus didn’t want to have the conversation he needed with her in front of all those stares, so he lifted her to her feet and stilled her startled questions by pulling her out of the room.
None of the others followed or called after them. They knew.
Seamus took Bree up the stairs to the room they were sharing. Behind them, he heard the Shifters and their human mates burst out talking at once, the crowd making enough noise to drown out an army. All the better.
Seamus led Bree into the bedroom and closed the door. She faced him in the middle of the floor, her lake-blue eyes enormous.
“What are you going to do?” Bree asked him.
Seamus stripped off his shirt. “Right now? Make love to you like I can’t stop. Like I’ve wanted to since I met you. Like I would have if we hadn’t kept getting interrupted.”
He growled the last words as he kicked out of his jeans. He’d put on underwear today in deference to the ceremony, and that came off too.
Bree didn’t snap her gaze away, or scream, or try to run. She looked him up and down. “Nice.”
“Glad you like it. Join me if you want. Your choice. I would never force you.” Seamus took a step toward her, tenderness sweeping through him along with need. “I would never hurt you.” He brushed Bree’s hair from her face, reveling in the silken touch of her hair, her skin. “Never.”
Bree ran her fingers up his chest to the hollow of his throat. “And after?” She studied his collarbone, not meeting his eyes. “Are you going to disappear forever?”
“I haven’t decided.” Seamus’s heartbeat sped, the warmth in him becoming surging heat. “Whatever I decide, I want it to be with you. I can’t offer you a damn thing—life in a bedroom in Shiftertown, or hiding out in a safe house ... somewhere. It would suck.”
“That all depends. I really liked that bungalow you found downtown. It’s cute. Or will be after we fix it up.” A sparkle lit Bree’s eyes, then dimmed. “What I don’t want is for you to be caught because you stuck around to be with me. I don’t want to watch you be rounded up, or whatever it’s called, arrested because you don’t have a Collar, forced to wear one, or killed.” She pushed against his chest and stepped away. “I won’t be the cause of that. I’d rather know you were out there—free—even if it means you can’t be with me.”
Tears beaded on her eyelashes, and Bree closed her mouth, as though fearing to say too much.
Seamus put his hands on her shoulders and drew her to him again. Not enough. He put his arms all the way around her, sinking into her warmth, kissing the curve of her neck.
“I know what freedom is now.” Seamus kissed Bree’s throat and then lifted his head to look into her eyes. “True freedom is being with the one you love, no matter what. It’s not a place or a time, or running through fields looking for somewhere to hide.” He brushed a kiss to her mouth. “It’s loving who you need to love.”
Bree’s lips parted. “Are you saying you love me, Seamus McGuire? After knowing me two days? Most of those on the run?”
Seamus gave her a shrug. “It can happen fast. When it’s right, it shouts to you. I’m an empath; you know I’m right.”
Bree put her hands on her hips. “Is that going to make you full of yourself? Because we’ll have to work on that.”
“Maybe. None of that matters, though, until you answer. Do you want to be with me, love?”
Bree lost her cocky smile. She rose on tiptoes and held him, her tears wetting his cheek. “Crap on a crutch, Seamus. Of course I want to be with you. Always. To hell with us only knowing each other two days—who gets to set the time-limit rule? I love you. I know this better than anything.”
“Good.” Seamus let out the breath he’d been holding, the dizziness of it smacking him. He started to fall and swung them both around so they landed on the bed, Seamus on top of Bree. He pressed her wrists into the mattress, and she smiled up at him. “Because I’ve decided to stay in Shiftertown. I don’t want to leave Katie, and Sean’s right. I can help them.”
Sean had told him today about a few things they were working on with the Collars, trying to get them removed from all Shifters. Going feral was a danger, and Seamus’s ability to survive without one could make a difference.
“But I’m only staying if you’ll come visit me,” Seamus said. “And do this ...”
He kissed her. Bree wrapped herself around him, opening to him, deepening the kiss. The fabric of her pants brushed his skin and lit every fire inside him.
“I’ll do more than visit,” Bree said when the kiss ended. “I’ll shack up with you. I’m a Shifter groupie, remember? Or at least, I used to be. That’s what we groupies dream of doing, you know, moving in with a Shifter. Now that I’ve got a Shifter of my own, though, I won’t need to dress up and hang out anymore.”
“I don’t know.” Seamus traced around her eyes where the cat makeup had been. “Maybe you can wear the makeup and costume sometimes. The cat’s ears are damn sexy.”
“Ooh, kinky, are you? This sounds like fun.”
Seamus drew his fingers down her white blouse, aching for her. “You’re wearing too many clothes right now.”
“They’re Carly’s. Cute, aren’t they? She has good taste.”
“You’ll have to buy her more,” Seamus growled.
Shifters could rip into clothes swiftly and precisely. In the work of a few moments
, the shirt and pants and her underwear lay in shreds around them, Bree squealing in delighted surprise.
Her cries softened to those of pleasure, and then a groan as Seamus slid inside her.
The bed creaked as Bree drew her hands down his back. Seamus forgot about pain, sorrow, grief, hurt, emptiness, and filled himself with Bree. Her generous love, her smiles, her beauty, her sensual little growl as he started to move.
Seamus was one with his mate, feeling her joy, her love surrounding him and making him whole. Everything he needed.
The End
Thank you!
Thank you for reading Lion Eyes and I hope you enjoyed it.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Jennifer Ashley has written more than 85 published novels and novellas in romance, urban fantasy, and mystery under the names Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James, and Ashley Gardner. More about Jennifer’s books and the Shifters Unbound series can be found at http://www.jenniferashley.com
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BOOKS BY JENNIFER ASHLEY
Shifters Unbound Series
Pride Mates
Primal Bonds
Bodyguard
Wild Cat
Hard Mated
Mate Claimed
Perfect Mate (novella)
Lone Wolf
Tiger Magic
Feral Heat
Wild Wolf
Bear Attraction
Mate Bond
Lion Eyes
Bad Wolf
White Tiger
Blood Flame
by Caris Roane
Vampire Officer Connor of the Crescent Border Patrol tries to suppress his desire for the powerful witch, Iris Meldeere. Because the woman possesses the ability to kill him with the tips of her fingers, how can he possibly fall in love with her? When a double homicide throws them together, he soon finds his deepest fantasies fulfilled as Iris succumbs to his seductions. But as they battle together to stay alive, and love begins to consume them both, will the witch be able to forgive the dark secrets of his past…
Table of Contents for BLOOD FLAME
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
About the Author
Other Books by Caris Roane
CHAPTER 1
Connor held his spotting scope pressed to his eye. His adrenaline flowed as he levitated high in the air. He was forty feet above the witch, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d tried about a dozen times to leave, but couldn’t since his craving for the Tribunal Public Safety officer had finally tipped the needle into the red zone. He wanted her bad.
As a Border Patrol officer for Crescent Territory, he often spent time surveilling suspects. The problem was Iris Meldeere hadn’t broken the law. She wasn’t part of a Five Bridges drug cartel, she didn’t traffic innocent humans into their sick world, and she definitely kept her hands off the lucrative business of running flame drugs.
For a witch, she was a model citizen.
It was after midnight, but he was still in the middle of his shift. And he had no damn reason to be at Iris’s house, except he couldn’t help himself. Not that he had plans for the future since he could never actually be with the woman. As a witch, and a powerful one at that, she had the power to kill him with a touch of her fingers.
She moved around her overgrown garden, her voice reaching his ears almost incessantly. At first, he thought she wore a Blue Tooth because both hands were constantly busy, pruning, digging, cutting, planting. He’d rolled his eyes when he realized she was communicating with her plants. Very witch or very Iris, maybe both.
Apart from his bizarre need to spy on the woman, he hated witches with a passion.
A witch had started this whole shitfest with a brew pot. Result? Seventy thousand humans, in Phoenix alone, lived in a pit of hell, having gone through the alter and become something not human anymore. At least the original witch had changed as well. Witches were now one of the five alter species living in Five Bridges. Being an alter witch or a vampire wasn’t a choice; it was a genetic mutation.
His own story wasn’t unusual. Devastated by his wife’s death, he’d stupidly tried to numb-out with a hit of blood flame. But it had been laced with the alter serum that created a set of fangs and an annoying craving for blood. The flame drugs by themselves weren’t the culprit, only when enhanced with an alter serum.
He’d gained physical strength and long-life. Beyond that, he was living a nightmare, one that had started thirty years ago, not long after the flame drug craze had hit the human population.
Now he was here, watching a witch who had gotten hit with an alter serum herself ten years ago. Only her flame drug had carried the witch serum. He knew this because he’d Googled her. A lot.
She wore a purple smock over her jeans and a pair of flats that looked like ballet shoes, typical brew-faring clothes for one of her kind.
And he liked her in jeans. She wore them snug and that was part of the problem. He’d seen her dozens of times at the Tribunal building in her casual investigative uniform of short-sleeved t-shirt, also worn tight, along with the form-fitting jeans. He’d mentally stripped her clothes off about a thousand times. He swore he knew what she looked like naked.
Yeah. Obsessed.
And guilty as hell. His kind didn’t go with her kind.
His kind killed witches, wizards and anything else that dared to smash up herbs and throw them in a cauldron, or cast spells, or worse, kill with the tips of their fingers. Witches, like Iris, were a danger to vampires and shifters. She should be offed, like all her murdering, enthralling kind.
Yet, here he was, floating above her garden, so quiet he’d never be heard not even by another vampire. He’d gotten good at stalking the woman.
***
Iris had that feeling again across the top of her shoulders that a vampire was watching her. She had excellent instincts, but every time she either hunted through her garden or checked the night sky, nothing.
She also had an instinct about who the vampire was. James Connor, also known as Officer Connor, of the Crescent Territory Border Patrol.
Yep, Connor was here again, which caused her heart to beat hard in her chest. Vampires killed witches as often as they could, but in this case an attack wasn’t what she feared.
No, the dull thuds of her pulse meant something far worse. Against all reason, small tendrils of pure desire moved over her breasts, down the insides of her thighs and curled around her sex.
A year ago, she’d seen Connor at a crime scene, one that involved a couple of human children. Until that moment, she would never have believed a vampire capable of any kind of compassion. She honestly thought that the alter had removed all tender emotions from those humans who had become vampire.
That night, she’d been called to the same scene to make a full report on behalf of the Five Bridges Tribunal, the central governing organization for which she worked. She served as a Tribunal Public Safety officer and as such could move freely among all five territories without too much fear of getting assassinated in
the process. Murder among the five alter species was rampant.
At the crime scene, with so many vampires present, she’d remained in the shadows, content to merely observe and gather data.
Because of the bloodsuckers, her own killing instinct had risen to the surface, vibrating like a motorcycle engine on overdrive. Her fingers had ached to touch some pressure-points that night and rid her world of a few sets of fangs.
She hated this aspect of being a witch, the driving need to strike another species down. But every one of her kind, once having gone through the alter, felt an intense pressure to self-protect. She’d come to accept that what she experienced was a basic survival mechanism. Vampires and shifters killed witches, her kind returned the favor, though for her she’d only done so when attacked. However, that didn’t change how much she detested her new nature.
The crime scene that night had torn her own heart into a thousand pieces. Two children were found at the Phoenix entrance to Sentinel Bridge, a boy and a girl, about nine or ten. They’d accidentally gotten hold of one of the flame drugs that carried the alter serum, and had begun the process of change. But children couldn’t handle the sudden physical trauma involved. Death always followed.
They’d held hands as they’d died, facing each other. It had broken Iris’s heart, seeing their twisted bodies, fingers entwined. She’d wept quietly, and that’s when Connor had arrived.
She’d seen him many times at various crime scenes, but never like this. He’d taken one look at the pair then dropped to his knees, covered his chest with both arms and rocked. She’d had no idea what had gone through his head at that moment, but she’d felt his compassion in waves hitting her over and over, wrecking her heart and somehow causing her to become fixated on a damn vampire.
As much as she’d come to loathe his kind, she’d ended up craving him with a terrible need.
Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 14
