Well hell, now what?
“You want to explain the rain inside the bar?”
“No, not really.”
She threw off a strong scent of fear. He couldn’t figure out what had her so spooked, but she obviously didn’t want to discuss her power.
He didn’t want her scared. He’d just found her. He wanted her to feel safe with him, besides she wasn’t responding to his intimidation tactics.
Shit.
“All right, I’ll let that go,” she smiled. “For now.” Mac smiled back, displaying all his teeth. She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
Pressed against her, Mac felt the quick shudder that ran through her. His mate was cold. Protective instincts, long suppressed, rose to the surface.
He stepped back, grabbed her under the knees and behind her back to swing her up into his chest. “You’re still cold. I’ll run a hot bath and get a shirt you can wear until your clothes dry.”
One of his warm, flannel, button-down shirts. He wore them only in the middle of winter when the weather turned bitter cold. She was so tiny the shirt would be more like a long dress on her. She was in his house and soon would be wearing clothing he’d provided for her – he was finally taking care of his mate. And after he fed her, he’d see about taking that shirt off, one button at a time.
He started up the stairs, his beast purring within, more content than he could ever remember, his mate in his arms.
****
Sela stared at the closed door. Mac said he would cook up some food for her. She eyed the lock. Right, like he couldn’t knock the door down with his pinky. The man put steroid popping, weight lifters to shame.
And he’ll huff and he’ll puff and blow the house down.
Mac fit the image of the big bad wolf in the story of the three little pigs perfectly. She had a feeling he would go through anything to get what he wanted.
Sela sighed. She examined the room. Is this a bathroom or a pool house? Logically she knew some people lived like this, but . . . decked out in luscious gold and brown tones, the room screamed, “I like living extremely well and I can damn well afford it.”
She turned toward the tub. She grimaced. Going to get wet again. Damn it all. But she needed to get warm and dry. A hot bath was unfortunately the best way to warm her all the way through.
Actually, getting naked under the covers with Mac would work quite well too. Probably even better and it would certainly be a hell of a lot more fun, especially if she could pour chocolate sauce all over him first.
Sela stomped down hard on her inner hussy.
She really had to get a grip on this thing. She did not go to bed with men she met - she glanced at her watch – approximately an hour and thirty-five minutes ago. Holy Hannah.
Although, apparently she did make out with them in public parking lots.
What was her problem? Had her hormones gone insane? She could not afford to stay here or trust this stranger – the risks for all of them were too great.
Sela ran a hand through her hair. At least, she tried to. Her fingers became snagged in the damp, tangled locks. Ugh. She didn’t need to imagine how bad she looked. The huge mirror on the opposite wall reflected her bedraggled appearance all too well. Thankfully the steam from the bath was obscuring her image as she looked on.
Mac could not possibly be hard up for female companionship – ever. But why in the world he looked twice at her much less kissed her in the parking lot and now saw to her comfort, Sela could not fathom.
Drowned cats looked better than she did. Hell, dead and rotting cats looked better than she did.
Her leather boots were ruined. She could hear the water slogging around in them when she walked. Her toes more than likely resembled severely wrinkled prunes by now.
Her jeans still dripped water. She might need a crow bar to peel the tight material off. Mac’s jacket hung to her knees, the heavy leather swallowed her. She looked like a kid wearing her father’s coat. Not the cute kid - the ones people smiled widely at, while inside they rejoiced that their own kids had it made.
Her make-up was obviously not water-proof. Dark lines streaked under her eyes and down her cheeks. Goth gone bad.
Her hair hung in unattractive clumps all over her head. She . . . wait, was that a leaf? Sela untangled her hand and plucked at the offensive vegetation. She took two steps closer to the mirror. Holy Hannah. She had leaves and sticks imbedded everywhere in her hair. Sela groaned
The horror.
Mac needed his eyes checked right away.
Sela sighed. First things first. After fifteen minutes of pulling and tugging, she had amassed a fairly large pile of damp foliage, numerous twigs and a decent amount of her own hair.
She unzipped the jacket. Her shoulder throbbed as she took it off. Stupid tree. She started to set it gently on the counter. Dark splotches caught her eye. Several dark, wet splotches. She examined the leather closer. More like lots and lots of dark splotches.
With a sigh, Sela dumped it on the floor. She was going to have to start a list of all Mac’s things she had ruined so far. Beloved, custom bike seat. Really, really, really old looking pottery bowl and now the probably-cost-more-than-she-could-even-think-of-affording leather jacket.
Double sigh. Why did her conscience have to start up now? She’d never had a problem with it before.
She unzipped her jeans. She tugged. She tugged harder. Her cheeks flamed hotter than July. Her jeans would not come off. The material stuck to her skin like shrink-wrap gone awry.
Maybe she should cut back on her daily bag of chocolate peanuts?
She glanced furtively around the empty bathroom. She lay down and began wiggling and wrenching. After another five minutes, and a great deal of cursing, she finally got the jeans off.
She threw them in the trash. The river and bar downpour had obviously shrunk them. She wasn’t giving up her chocolate peanuts. She shuddered at the thought.
She set her watch on the granite counter top then walked over to the sunken tub. Miniature pool truly did suit it better. The thing was huge. It had to be at least six feet in diameter. Billowing clouds of steam rose up from its depths. The promised warmth beckoned her.
Sela slowly walked down the three steps, relishing the heat enveloping her body. She sank down onto a bench along the side. She closed her eyes and moaned long and loudly. Right now she didn’t care that she was immersed in water. She was finally warm. Could there be anything better?
An image of Mac, completely naked, stretched out on a bed with an impressive erection and jar of chocolate sauce in one hand popped into her mind.
Sela quickly opened her eyes. She was totally losing it. Where the hell was her control when she needed it?
She reached for a bottle of shampoo resting on the ledge of the tub. She washed and rinsed her hair, then washed and rinsed it again. She found a bottle of conditioner lounging next to the shampoo and used a generous portion. Then she set to scrubbing herself clean.
Feeling slightly more human - and much more attractive than any dead and rotting cats that might be in a hundred mile radius - her thoughts returned to Mac.
Her life was a game of catch me if you can. She could not allow herself to settle in one area or get involved in a relationship. No matter how much she might want to. And now that her mark was active, the stakes had just been raised.
She would be able to hold her own even better now against the maniacal group after her. Privately, Sela had always referred to them as MIBs – Men In Black, after the movie. For whatever macho reason they were always decked out in black from head to toe. Sela could spot them a mile away, but they didn’t seem to care.
Now that she controlled an Element, the MIBs would want her more than ever now. The ones back at the bar might not be after her anymore, but there were always more MIBs. A colony of horny rabbits on Ecstasy didn’t have a chance at reproducing faster than the MIBs replenished their ranks. However, now that she controlled her Element she could protect hersel
f. Sela snorted. Yeah, she could rain on them again.
Sela considered the steaming water surrounding her. She raised her hands. She concentrated on her mark. Fascinated, she watched as it began to glow. Warmth flooded her stomach.
She focused on that warmth, willing it to move up through her body and to her hands. She held it there. Twisting her hands back and forth, she savored the raw power. Her Element might be water, but now it was something she controlled.
Cautiously, she pushed some of that power out. All of the water in the tub rose up to form a giant sinuous bubble about four feet from the bottom of the bath. She shivered in the cool air.
Whoops.
Sela flexed her fingers, withdrawing the power. Water splashed her face and sloshed over the sides of the tub. She sputtered and blinked furiously. Finally the water stopped swirling and settled down.
Well, hell. The jacket was positively beyond repair now. It lay in about an inch of water. Oh, no! Not all of the water was trickling back into the tub. A fairly large amount was escaping under the door to the bedroom.
Shit, shit, shit.
Sela thought the floor in Mac’s bedroom might be Brazilian. Or Walnut. So far everything she’d seen in his house looked expensive, like things she had only seen in magazines expensive.
Great, now she could add new flooring to her list.
She supposed she should grab some towels and attempt to save the floor. Hmm, she narrowed her eyes. Maybe . . . she raised her hands again. This time she focused on using a much smaller dose of her Element. She pulled gently on her power.
Come to Momma.
The water reversed its flow, all of it now poured back into the tub. Ha, ha! She could cross expensive flooring off her list.
Sela laughed, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She’d done it. She had totally controlled the water. Granted it was still water, but she’d controlled it.
She could always lure the MIBs to a lake, or a river, or even a small pond and drown them. She wouldn’t have to hear any pleas for mercy and there wouldn’t be any blood. Actually, having water as her Element might just work out.
The door to the bathroom opened abruptly. Sela shrieked and slid down further into the water. Mac stalked over to the edge of the sunken tub. He carried a large flannel shirt in one hand. There was something so very predatory about the way he moved. He didn’t walk, he stalked. Like a jungle cat or a hungry wolf.
“Why is the floor in the bedroom wet?” Mac asked.
Shoot. Expensive flooring went back on the list.
“Ah, well, um,” Sela floundered. How was she supposed to explain her Elemental power without sounding crazy? Normal people did not control the Elements. They did not spend their life on the run, hunted by a group of fanatics. Unless they owed someone named Guido a lot of money.
The average person could not make it rain inside a bar, or create a giant floating bubble out of bath water. As far as Sela knew, the women in her family were the only ones who could do weird stuff like that. Rather she could. Her sisters’ marks were still not active.
Her mother had controlled one of the Elements, but she wouldn’t discuss it. She would not discuss where the power came from, or why they had it. At least not when sober, if it hadn’t been for drunken mumblings, the girls would have been clueless.
Sela knew she and her sisters each held a power that ran in their family. When their mother and her sisters had died, their power was then transferred to Sela and her sisters. The power was dormant, but once sparked, they would each control a very powerful Element. That was the extent of her knowledge. Full stop.
Although they did have one thing wrong. Sela and her sisters had always assumed it would be a what, not a whom, to spark the power.
Humans could not do these things. Sela very much feared she and her sisters were not quite human.
So far Mac had been oddly okay with men shooting at them, and the sudden downpour inside the bar. He obviously knew something was off about her, but if she tried to explain about her powers . . . Sela sighed. Why would he believe her? They were basically strangers. She’d managed to make a few friends, despite her life on the run. She’d lost them once she tried describing her power. She’d made it policy since then to conceal the truth.
Besides, she wouldn’t be around long enough for it to make any difference. Her presence endangered Mac’s life. He’d helped her. He’d sparked her power. She could not stay and risk him.
No matter how much a part of her might want to stay.
And she certainly could not get involved with him if she wasn’t human.
Get involved? Where had that thought come from? Sela didn’t get involved. She’d been on her own ever since she and her sisters had separated.
Sela blinked rapidly. She must still have water in her eyes.
She thrust her shoulders back determined to take charge of herself and the situation. Mac zeroed in on her breasts. She scooted back down.
She smiled tentatively. “I guess I got carried away in your pool, I mean bathtub.” Ha. She didn’t even have to lie. He could read into that what he wanted.
He arched his brows. “Do you always get so carried away in the water?” Oh man. That husky voice could seduce a nun. Sela hadn’t ever aspired to such a lofty calling.
Ignore the voice. Ignore the longing. Why oh why, was it so hard to do that with this man? What was it that drew her to him? Aside from the slap-her-in-the-face obvious physical, that is. Why could she picture herself in his arms? She knew better.
He was waiting for an answer. She thought about his question. “Usually not, but from now on I might,” she said thoughtfully.
His eyes tracked slowly over her body beneath the water. Sela fluttered her hands in a vain attempt to hide her naked body. Nudity didn’t bother her. The Order had taken care of that when they’d caged her. The look in Mac’s eyes on the other hand . . .
He frowned at her obscure answer. He looked like he wanted to question her further, but suddenly his entire body froze. He dropped the shirt. It might be a weird trick of the light, but his eyes seemed to be glowing. The little hairs on the back of her neck and arms all stood up.
“Who shot you?” He demanded.
What?! She searched the water for blood. How could she not know she’d been shot? She knew exactly what that felt like . . . oh. She glanced back at Mac.
She jumped to find him crouched next to her. The man moved like a ghost. He cupped her left shoulder in his big hand. His thumb gently traced the ugly, round scar there.
“Who did this?” He demanded again, lethal fury in every syllable. The same strange warmth she’d felt in the parking lot tugged at her heart again. He sounded . . . he sounded as if he cared that she had been hurt. Not only cared, but planned to inflict devastating pain on the person who shot her.
He barely knew her. Why would he care?
She shrugged her shoulder, attempting to remove his hand. Mac tightened his grip, not hurting her, but letting her know he wasn’t going to let go until he was ready.
“It happened a long time ago,” she stalled.
“When?” He wanted answers.
Sela heaved a sigh. She peeked at him. His eyes still glowed. Deep amber flecks swirled and sparked in the dark depths of his gaze.
The stress must be getting to her.
She twisted her head to watch his thumb caress her scar. Gentle circles, around and around, as if he wanted to erase it from her.
The thought lulled her and she spoke without thinking. “It happened when I was fourteen.”
“Fourteen? What the fuck? You were a child. Who in hell would shoot a child?”
Sela stared into his strangely glowing eyes. The fury in his voice breached her defenses. She didn’t understand it but Mac genuinely seemed to care for her. Just minutes after meeting her, he’d taken bullets meant for her. She still didn’t understand why he hadn’t been hurt, but he had protected her. The MIBs wanted to cage her and experiment on her. Her own mother had be
trayed her. She lived her life on the run, attempting to remain anonymous. No one had ever wanted or been able to protect her. Until Mac.
“The MIBs.”
Chapter Six
The moment the words left her mouth, Sela regretted them. Sheesh, show her a little concern and she turned into a marsh-mellow. She might secretly crave a home and someone to love but she couldn’t have it. That was a fantasy. She knew that. The fanatics would not leave her alone. She’d accepted that.
Or so she thought.
But this not-so-handsome, incredibly built, tender, arrogant hunk of manhood made her want . . . sigh, everything she couldn’t have.
Oh, get over it, Chickie. You’ve only known him for approximately two hours now.
Focus. Where was the logic and reason that had kept her free and out of the hands of the bad guys thus far?
The stress really was getting to her. Now she was arguing with herself.
“MIBs?” Mac furrowed his brow. Obviously not a big fan of Sci Fi.
“Men In Black . . . like the movie.”
Mac’s amber flecked eyes glowed brighter. “You mean those men back at the bar?”
“Not those exact men,” she said. “But men like them.”
“Explain that.”
Sela debated what to say. She didn’t owe him an explanation, but she wanted to tell him something. She wanted to share something of herself. Maybe she could tell him a little without revealing too much.
“Those men belong to a group of fanatics that have hunted my family for years. I call them MIBs, but the group they belong to call themselves ‘The Order of the Elements’,” Sela snorted.
“They’ve been around for a while.” Like hundreds of years. “They’ve been after the women in my family for years.” Again for hundreds of years. “It’s sort of an ancient feud.” More like she and her family had been pursued by the Order who wanted to capture and use them for their own evil means.
She smiled winningly at Mac.
“Does this have anything to do with the rain in the bar?” he asked calmly.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Mac had been in the bar. He was intelligent. And apparently open-minded enough to accept some aspects of the paranormal.
Tall, Dark and Furry (The Elementals Book 1) Page 4
