rogue shifter 05 - caught between

by Gayle Parness

  He turned away from me and looked out at the ocean. "There was much to be accounted for between him and me. Many years of servitude."

  So that was a yes. I dropped that subject, but couldn't stop worrying about my grandmother and her arrangements. "What does she have planned for me?"

  "I cannot begin to comprehend her will."

  "Oh really?" I wasn't buying his BS.

  "You only need know that she is equal in power to the Fae Queen of the High Sidhe. They are eternally at war, one striving to create and balance according to her design, the other unmake and encourage the chaos that suits her best." His voice dropped in tone. "Make no mistake, they are both fearsome creatures, their motives and abilities beyond most being's comprehension." He shrugged again and smiled pleasantly. "Who am I but a simple demon, sadly unable to understand such gods and their machinations?"

  "But she holds you in some esteem, I think, which makes you more powerful than you let on. Exactly who or what are you to her?"

  "An assistant. A mere speck of dust in her universe."

  I shook my head, thinking back to my meeting with the two of them. "You're more than that and I'm sure you know a lot more than you're telling me. I just have to think of the right questions to ask you."

  He narrowed his eyes and grinned mischievously. "And I the best answers."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Other than the time I spent training, the rest of the week progressed along standard vacation-like routines. I spent a couple of hours at the beach every morning with my three fae companions. We'd dangle our feet in the salty spray and one of them would somehow signal a pod of dolphins to come just a little closer to shore than usual, or they'd magically encourage a group of starfish to form a pretty design in a tidal pool that never would have happened naturally. Liam got a whale to breach right off the coast, making me gasp and the others giggle. I think there was some kind of silly competition going on between the three of them, but I never asked since I was enjoying the results of their efforts.

  My favorite animal entertainers were the California sea otters, who skittered playfully over the rocks next to us and then dove in for another mussel or clam, splashing us on purpose. Well at least splashing me on purpose. The other three never seemed to get wet. Not even when it rained. I guess I was absent the day someone handed out the invisible umbrellas.

  They didn't sweat either. If we weren't such good friends, I could learn to hate them. Especially since my pregnant body got hot easily, feeling it necessary to shower two or three times a day. And since I'm on a roll, let's not forget how gracefully they moved, even when doing the tiniest actions. Although I was a cheetah with my own share of natural grace, my body had turned traitor in the last week or so, making my walk look closer to a duck's waddle than a feline's stride.

  In the afternoon, Liam and Kellaine would go riding, exploring the mountains and the coastline. They were able to travel the lines for short distances with the horses, so we were entertained in the evenings with stories of what they'd discovered in the more remote areas of the state. The horses never seemed to mind, as long as there was grass to munch on and a cool stream to drink from.

  They must have been something to see as they sat astride their mounts, Liam with his golden hair and delicate, yet handsome features and Kellaine, her thick auburn waves blown back by the breeze, their violet eyes glittering as they rode through the rolling brown hills of a California summer.

  My late nights alone with Garrett were magical on so many levels. His capacity to make me feel loved and cherished seemed infinite. He took the weariness I felt from my stress-filled workouts with Isaiah and banished it with his sweet kisses and loving caresses. Resting his head against my rounded belly, he'd sing sweetly to our son, and then later his passion would wake mine, making our bodies sing a different song. His dark mood had lightened with Marie's arrival, and so our bond seemed to grow stronger with every breath.

  However, every afternoon, as Liam and Kellaine enjoyed their rides and Garrett rested, I'd spend at least two hours working alone with Isaiah. It took me an entire session just to learn how to block the tormented shades. then how to release one at a time from their link to the villa. After I'd released Marie, I tried to do a few others every day, but there were too many to take care of on my own. I'd actually lost my lunch a couple of times when I was confronted by a particularly grizzly one, but I realized quickly that they were all victims of Eleanor, none of them truly evil or dangerous. I hoped that wherever they journeyed would be a more peaceful place for them.

  And because Garrett and I wouldn't be coming back here again for quite a while, I was determined to hire in another necromancer to continue releasing them as soon as I had time to arrange it. And yes, as odd as it seemed, I could now add necromancer to my growing list of so-called abilities. At face value it seemed at odds with my talent as a healer, especially because I was using the magic of my grandmother's people, yet as I released them I couldn't stop myself from feeling like I was actually bringing them peace after many years of unrest. And it felt good.

  Isaiah generally behaved himself during our lessons, annoying me by spouting his usual mantra, "You are doing well, but it is important that you learn more quickly. Focus, Jacqueline." Sometimes I wanted to scream, but instead, I squinted with concentration, tackling my next challenge with as much enthusiasm as I could summon.

  This last afternoon at the villa was the most difficult session. It was a lesson in protecting my privacy.

  It started off kinda fun. Isaiah stood on a bench in the garden and used his richest tone, sounding almost like a cartoon character. "Build your wall, Jacqueline and I will show you how easily I can break it down."

  I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the laugh. "You don't have to make a show out of it, Superman. Just teach me how to build one that's completely demon-proof."

  His mouth twisted petulantly as he jumped down and sat. "You cruelly deny me my fun, but I will acquiesce in the interests of your continued education. Still you must erect your strongest wall, and I will teach you how to make it even stronger. Then you will be able to keep me and other demons out of your thoughts."

  "Even Grandmother?" I sat on the bench directly opposite, giving him my best suspicious stare.

  "If you practice the skill, yes, I believe you may be able to block her and the fae queen as well."

  "The fae queen never shows her face around here."

  "And you should continue to pray that she does not."

  "Why?"

  He leaned forward as he spoke. "Little demon, the fae queen's beauty will cause you to kneel in abject awe and lose your ability to think coherent thoughts as she flays the skin from your bones, inch by inch or uses her nails to rip Charlie from your womb. Then she will laugh and the exquisitely lovely sound will be the last thing you ever hear."

  My eyes had grown wide, as I swallowed hard. "Oh. I guess she wouldn't like that I'm part demon."

  "Ya think?"

  His sarcasm shouldn't have surprised me but I still frowned at him, trying to erase the violent vision he'd just planted in my head. "You're watching too much TV, Isaiah."

  This time he grinned. "I'm sure I could find more interesting things to do if you'd let me off the grounds."

  "No."

  "Then I suggest that you get to work and stop complaining."

  "Fine!" I snapped. "I can't wait to get you out of my head for good."

  He patted the bench. "Sit here and take my hand. Then I'll smash your diamond wall to dust with my magic." I winced because he only asked me to hold his hand when the lesson would be very difficult. Through our contact he'd be able to give me little boosts of power when I felt like I couldn't continue.

  "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Humble, and it's my magic too."

  "It pleases me to hear you say so." I'd met Isaiah when he was guarding me for Kennet, so when he'd first told me that I had demon ancestors, I refused to believe him. That lasted until he pointed out my demonic birth mark and got me so a
ngry that my eyes flashed orange. At that point, he'd pretty much made it impossible for me to ignore the truth.

  Isaiah had explained in his annoying way that the difference between using fae and demon energy was not in the amount of power used, but in the intention of the magic user. In the past when I'd pulled up power to battle an enemy, I'd called magic to me as a shapeshifter would, although I'd been unaware that there was a difference. It was the magic created and manipulated by the fae, stemming from nature in all its various cycles, that had always answered me. Even if I'd used the magic to kill, as long as the enigmatic Balance was satisfied, then it was the magic of the High Sidhe that flowed into my body.

  Vampires, shades, ghouls, ghosts, necromancers and other users of the darker arts fed from the ingredients produced by the Unseelie fae and the occupants of the Demonic Realm. Interestingly, the two magicks flowed congruently within the lines, never actually mixing together. They were accessible to any supernatural with the skill to make use of them and could be used for almost any purpose, based again on the ability and the intentions of the magic user. Isaiah explained that, like Garrett, who was a vampire/shifter, my shifter/necromancer was also able to use either source.

  "You two are a power couple, Like Brad and Angelina." He'd laughed.

  When I finally succeeded in blocking all of his attempts to get through my wall, some of them excruciatingly painful, I was dripping with sweat, bowed from exhaustion and happy as a pig in poo. Now Isaiah couldn't read my thoughts, and the relief I felt was even stronger than I'd imagined.

  "Thanks for just about killing me." I teased him.

  "You were many minutes from death," he joked back.

  "And thanks for the new skill. Now you'll have to wait for me to tell you what I'm thinking, just like everyone else." I lifted my chin and he laughed.

  "What you are thinking is often written all over your face."

  "And what am I thinking now?"

  "You're proud of the work you did and you're just a little bit happy that I showed up to train you." He smiled smugly, but I was even happier because I knew how much it annoyed him to be cut off from one of his favorite sources of entertainment.

  "I'm gonna have to work on my poker face."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Later, after a much needed nap, I thought that I'd do as Isaiah had suggested earlier and contact Marie once more to let her know that we'd be leaving soon and she was welcome to join us if she wanted to. I wasn't so sure about the 'making her a familiar' idea, but I was willing to discuss it. She'd been a prisoner in the cells for over a hundred years, so it was hard for me to believe that she might want to tie herself to someone.

  Charlie had been auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance since I'd woken up, so I went into the small office off the dining room with the really comfy chair where I could put up my feet and also where I'd have some privacy. Fifteen seconds after I summoned her, she appeared behind the desk facing away from me.

  "I'm sorry to disturb you, Marie, but I wanted you to know that we're heading toward home in a few hours and..."

  I stopped speaking because she still hadn't turned around, so I looked more closely. There was a new rip in the sleeve of her jacket and it concerned me that she hadn't responded. Fear caused a shiver to run down my body so I instinctively called for Liam, although it probably would have made more sense to contact Isaiah. Despite my choice, they both appeared in the room at the same time.

  Although Liam couldn't see her, he stood at my back, sensing something was wrong. I tried again. "Marie, turn around so I can speak to you, please."

  She did, very slowly. There were scratches down her face and across her throat, as well as a few on her arms. Nothing was bleeding of course, but the wounds still looked painful. Her skirt was ripped as if someone had tried to tear it off of her.

  "My god, what happened?" I sent Liam a mental picture and he stiffened behind me.

  Isaiah spoke, before she could. "She smells like my home turf. Were you entertaining some demons, Marie?"

  She wouldn't look at me. "Perhaps I should have remained here. I only wanted to explore, to attempt to find my Harrison, but I was accosted and taken somewhere, somewhere dark. I only escaped because you summoned me."

  Isaiah plopped himself down in a leather chair and leaned forward sniffing the air. "Her energy calls to the lower level thugs who are desperate for power. High demons don't waste their time torturing helpless shades. I recognize their scent. These two have defied me in the past. I will take care of them personally when I return."

  His eyes were orange, matching his fury. It surprised me to hear that disciplining underlings was a common practice of his. The evidence was stacking up. Isaiah was more than he let on.

  "How can we protect her from this happening again?" I asked quietly.

  "If you make her yours, she will be off limits to the rest."

  I described the situation to Liam and he agreed that it was important to protect her, so after a short explanation and a simple ritual led by Isaiah, Marie became my spirit familiar, a crazy-assed turn of events, in my already wacked-out world.

  What else could...? Never mind.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I knocked on the office door, feeling as nervous as a bride on her wedding day.

  It was around 8:00 P.M. and we'd driven north to Palo Alto from Carmel with Isaiah in the car. He'd managed to push every one of my buttons with his requests to change the radio station, skip a song on the playlist, turn up the air conditioning, stop for something to eat or go faster. I felt like we had a four year old in the back seat, not a demon who'd possibly lived for millennium. He'd made it into a game, as he'd nudge and prod and poke at me until, he hoped, I lost my patience and blew up at him. Garrett and I held on, but just.

  Thankfully, we'd be returning the car after our meeting and then taking the ley lines the rest of the way home to Crescent City.

  We'd left him in the car with a bag of Mickey D's, parked in an out of the way spot, listening to Cee Lo Green with strict instructions to remain there the entire time we were gone. We were keeping our fingers crossed that he'd behave.

  "Come in." The man's voice was deep and rich and hearing it made my knees start to shake.

  "Be brave, my angel. Your father will be shocked, but if he has any sense at all, he'll be glad that you came to him."

  "Maybe we should've asked him if he has any heart problems. This could shock him into the hospital."

  Garrett smiled as he opened the dark wooden door with the engraved nameplate: Dr. Simon Crenshaw, Ph.D., Department of Ancient Languages.

  He was seated, working at his desk, finishing something on the computer. He had light brown hair, broad shoulders, and was dressed casually in a sports jacket, and a tan button down shirt open at the collar.

  He turned, smiling, saying, "How can I..." One look at Garrett and his expression became alarmed. He stood, his left hand tracing a glyph, ready to defend himself with a spell.

  Garrett held his hands up in a gesture of peace and spoke in a soothing tone. "Dr. Crenshaw, I'm Garrett Cuvier and this is my lifemate, Jacqueline Crawford Cuvier. We're not here to harm you in any way. We have some important information to share with you. Perhaps we should have told your secretary what we've come about when we first made this appointment, but I thought that meeting face to face would be more respectful. I apologize if we've upset you."

  Simon looked from Garrett to me and then back to Garrett, giving me a chance to get a better look. Unlike mine, his eyes were a beautiful navy blue but his mouth and chin...well, if I'd had any doubts about him being my dad, they'd dissolved five seconds ago. He was good looking, in a distinguished kind of way. Like a thirty-five year old Sean Connery.

  "You'll forgive me, but why should I trust you?"

  "If we were here to kill you, we wouldn't have knocked." Garrett's face lit up with the smile he used to put people at ease. I tried to do the same.

  Simon frowned. "How did a cheetah
end up the lifemate of a vampire?" He was still standing, holding his spell ready, unwilling to relax around us.

  I took a step forward. "That's all part of why we're here. May we sit down, please?"

  For the first time he noticed my pregnant belly. "Yes, of course. It's been a while since I've had two powerful supernaturals in my office. Forgive my bad manners."

  "It's quite understandable, Dr. Crenshaw." Garrett answered.

  He took the seat behind his desk and we sat in the two leather chairs that faced it. "You said your names are Garrett and Jacqueline?"

  "Jackie, please."

  "Garrett and Jackie then. Are you interested in taking classes at the university? I've had a few vampires as students but never a cheetah." He looked at me curiously.

  I fished a photo out of my bag and handed it to him. "We're here because of something more personal. That's my twin sister, Bridgett. We were born on May 5, 1993."

  He glanced at it for a few seconds and then returned his gaze to me. "You don't look much alike, except for the eyes and maybe the mouth. But I don't understand..."

  I took a deep breath and held on tightly to Garrett's hand. "I'm sorry to tell you like this, but I didn't know how else to do it, really. Telling you over the phone didn't seem right. We're the children of Adele Fitzgerald. And we believe that you're our father."

  The hand resting on his desk, the one that had held his spell in readiness, was slowly clenching into a fist and I was afraid at first that he was angry. His brow wrinkled as he studied me with those navy eyes, this time taking in my appearance thoroughly: my hair, my eyes, my nose, my mouth and my build. He managed to keep his expression neutral, although his body had tensed.

  He wasn't an easy man to read, but when he took in a cleansing breath to calm himself, it was evident I'd shaken him.

  He spoke softly, the huskiness a sign of his deep emotion. "Adele died in December, 1996. Who raised you?"

  I was surprised at how quickly he seemed to accept the truth of what I'd told him, but then he was a sorcerer, and might be able to read my aura. "We were split up after she died. Bridgett grew up with a pack of werewolves in Gasquet. Her adopted mom died when she was ten. Her dad just died a couple of months ago. Since then, she's been living with me in Crescent City, although neither of us knew the other existed until recently."