Heat flamed across her cheeks. “Um, yeah, sure. He’s gorgeous. Your son?” Celibacy is making you lose your mind. You need to get laid, girl.
“No, he’s not my son, just one of my correspondence students. He works with lions in Africa.”
She looked at the photo again a little nervously, interested despite herself. “Is he an American? Or is he from there?”
“Actually, he spent most of his childhood and teens in boarding schools in Australia and New Zealand. He has quite the accent. It’s typical of rich white kids in Africa. Their parents ship them out to boarding schools in other countries, because life in Africa has many dangers, even for the rich.”
“Sounds like an interesting guy.”
“Oh, he is. Some people call him the Lion Whisperer. He can help you get up close and personal with them.”
August didn’t like how up close and personal Dr. Kruger was getting.
“Arlan’s part sylph. He’s a part fae like you. Like me.” Kruger waved his hand to indicate both of them, then leaned closer to her. “You know, August, in the Fae Realm, sylphs live in ménage relationships. Have you tried mating with other half-fae yet? Have you been searching for your fated mates?”
He reached out to stroke her cheek, and she grabbed his wrist to stop him. She bit her lip. She’d never even suspected he was fae. The tension in the air was electric as, for half a minute, as each wondered how the other would respond. She itched to slap his face, but she didn’t want to lose her chance at a job. Kruger had her academic career by the balls.
She let go of his wrist and thought of her dad’s last words when he was suffering the week before he died. “
Don’t let fear of your mother or the Half-Fae Network stop you from living your life.
Her mind flashed back to the blood, all over that white lace, all over the rug, in that white, white room.
With a brutal mental shove, she pushed the memories from her mind and sat up straighter in her chair, shoulders back. She wasn’t going to lose her job. “I’ll take your offer of paid research work in Africa, but don’t touch me again. I’ve no interest in you other than as a teacher.”
Kruger sneered and waved his hand. “Fine. Your flight’s already booked. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock this coming Saturday.” He pulled open a drawer in his desk, retrieved a folder and opened it to hand her an airline ticket.
She jumped out of her chair. “You must be crazy. You expect me to just up and leave for Zimbabwe in three nights’ time, with nothing prepared?”
“Things are prepared. I took the liberty of making an appointment for you with my own personal doctor. He’s a good friend of mine and has made time in his busy schedule tomorrow to give you all the necessary vaccines and whatnot.”
“I can’t do this. It’s all far too sudden.”
“Don’t you have a strong interest in protecting lions as a vulnerable species?” August bit the inside of her cheek. “Yes, that’s my dream.”
A sly smile spread across his face. “Then why on earth would you turn down this kind of opportunity?”
He was right, in a way. It was something she’d dreamed about, but still…
“Why all the haste? It’s very unusual.” She backed away from him. “I’m sorry I really can’t do this.”
Kruger’s smile faded. “It’s best you do as I say, daughter of the dark fae. I know all your secrets. I know who and what you are, August Peak.”
August clenched her teeth. She hated her last name. Memories from school. Peak the Freak. Everyone in her little ’burb knew her mother was one of those crazies who considered herself half-fae and went to those Half-Fae Network Conferences, dragging August and her sisters along. Always being the smallest child in the class hadn’t helped either. Bookish, neglected midget freak.
“You’re a friend of my mother’s.” She didn’t pose it as a question. The answer was obvious. “Yes, I’m friends with Duvessa. Your mother is amazing.”
August rolled her eyes.
“Everything Duvessa’s done for the Half-Fae Network is incredible. She owns that huge casino. Crown Casino, that’s the name, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” August whispered through clenched teeth. “And she’s the daughter of a fae princess.”
“Listen, my Mom never even so much as met her own mother, you know that? She might talk a lot about being the daughter of the dark fae Princess Zenia, but she’s never even been to the Fae Realm. She’s only a half-fae. Her father was mortal.”
Kruger shrugged. “Fae abandoning children they have with mortals is par for the course, especially among sylphs. You can’t blame full-blooded fae for that. Why would they want to be burdened with a half-human child?”
“The fae should use protection, use condoms, and not be deadbeat dads and neglectful mothers.” Kruger laughed. “Mortal concepts. They don’t apply to the fae. Dark fae are not tied to the tedious path of virtue. They just want to make love, have sex, have fun. Really, I can hardly believe Duvessa’s daughter is so prim.”
When she made a disgusted face, Kruger grinned. “Not even all mortals abide by those rules of yours, now do they? Lots of deadbeat dads and neglectful moms among humans too.”
Frustration with his bullshit made her want to kick him, but she took a deep breath instead, thinking of her academic career. “Listen, Professor, you have to understand, if your primary interest in me is in my magical connections, I don’t have any magic to speak of. I don’t attend those conferences, now and —”
He pointed a finger at her. “Both your parents were half-fae. That makes you quite extraordinary in this day and age. “
August glared at him, her jaw tight.
Again, Kruger’s mouth eased into a smug smile. “Poor self-esteem in half-fae can inhibit magic powers. Is that your problem, August? We can work on that.”
“My self-esteem is just fine.” She bit the inside of her cheek at the partial lie, but her self-esteem was none of his business. “I choose not to use my powers. I don’t have to use them. My magic, my right.”
Contempt flashed across Kruger’s face, then his eyes began to change turning from gray to amber. His pupils narrowed to slits. August’s hands started to shake. She grabbed her books off his desk and turned toward the doorway.
“See you tonight, Ms. Peak.” Kruger laughed after her.
As she ran down the corridor, she nearly tripped over a book some careless student had left on the floor. But she put her hand on the wall and managed to regain her balance. Anxiety bubbled in her stomach until it became a painful cramp. Kruger’s eye change had struck a deep well of horror within her. Reptile eyes, like her mother’s own serpent-like eyes when she became enraged.
August’s pulse began to climb. If Kruger was Duvessa’s friend, then he’d probably already discussed all this stuff with her mother. Maybe Mom even wanted her to go to Zimbabwe for some deranged reason of her own. Who knew with Duvessa?
She could hear her mother’s past ranting in her mind.
“August, how stupid are you? How many times have I told you? Do you still not understand that the portals to the Fae Realm are closing up? There are only a few cities left in the world where the Half-Fae Conferences can be held, because these are the only places where a modicum of magic still exists.
“I am descended from royal dark-fae blood. I am the daughter of Princess Zenia, granddaughter of Queen Zenobia. What is wrong with you? Why can’t you respect your mother the way everyone else respects me?”
August had taken a deep breath and spoken the truth. “There are some things I can never respect.” She’d expected her mother to retaliate, had expected to be physically hurt in some way, but instead, a condescending smirk had crossed Duvessa’s face.
“Dark fae are not tied like lesser creatures to petty morality and the tedious path of virtue. Dark fae are creatures of genius, so intelligent, so powerful that we are above the common horde. But I’ve never even been to the Fae Realm. Because of the stupidity of my mor
tal father’s side of the family, I was bound to the mortal world. Mind-blowingly boring idiot humans.”
Duvessa’s voice had become a screech. “The only mistake my royal mother ever made was mating with a stupid mortal.”
“You wouldn’t exist if she hadn’t.”
Then, at last, August had been hurt. She’d paid for those words. August cringed, not wanting to let other memories back in. It was pathetic to be afraid of your own mother. But the unwanted memories hit her hard. The images stole her breath. Her knees weakened. and she leaned back against the wall of the corridor. She thought about going to the dean, but she knew the dean and Kruger were the best of friends. The thought that this man could destroy her career made her panic.
She pressed her forehead against the cool brick of the wall. If she wanted to keep her career, she would have to go to Africa. Somehow, she could see her life path shifting and changing before her now, like a high bridge twisting in an earthquake.
So much for her plans to have a quiet, scientific life.
Chapter Two
Zimbabwe, Africa
Zoologist Arlan Leonard clenched and unclenched his fists. As long as he was in control of his emotions, he was in control of the curse. But seeing the lioness Manyara in a pool of her own blood made his vision darken and anger course through his veins. They’d skinned part of her, but he’d know Manyara anywhere. They’d taken her skin so they could use her pelt for their assassin’s costumes.
The new witch doctors in this area liked their assassins to be dressed in lion pelts. They gave their assassins weapons shaped like claws.
Some sick bullshit.
He got it. Arlan understood what it was about. It was about creating an image. They were all about appearances, these people. The lion skins and the claw like weapons were meant to intimidate and threaten their victims. Leave an impression of magic. Make the villagers pay their so-called debts. Ironic that they tried to turn these children, these adolescents, into figurative monsters, pretend were-lions, when Arlan himself was the real thing.
Arlan bent down and used his pliers to unfasten the radio collar he had fitted on her himself. He’d known every inch of Manyara’s tawny coat, and now she was just a mess of blood and gore.
The urgency of the curse seemed fueled by his rage over the death of Manyara, and he had to fight it.
Control, control. Deep, calming breaths. He would not shift. He would not give in to the velvet sensuousness of his were-form. The desire to feel a warm luxurious coat covering his body again. Sun on his silky fur. Arlan’s fingernails extended and retracted, sharpened into claws and then flattened again into human fingers as he willed them back.
Scents became stronger. He could smell the smoke curling over the parched land and the sweat dripping off cattle. He could taste the hot dry air and the black tea and cut tobacco in the villagers’ huts. He could hear the laugh of spotted hyenas in the distance, and the sound of vultures ‘wings.
Breathe deep. Control.
But Arlan wouldn’t give in to the temptation, except when it was necessary to save the children. He’d never met any weres other than his ex-lover, Silvara, and he didn’t believe she was even a real were-lion.
The bitch just used her dark-fae magic to turn me into one.
Silvara’s cruel joke had been to turn him into the animal he loved, her revenge when Arlan told her he didn’t love her the way she wanted, when he told her that he was sure she wasn’t one of his fated mates.
He clenched his teeth, willing the golden fur sprouting on his arms to go down. He always wore clothes made of natural materials, as these would shift seamlessly with him if necessary. But he never shifted if he could help it. If he could stop it, he did. Slowly, the fur receded back into his body. His cotton T-shirt returned in full.
Arlan sighed and gave himself a figurative pat on the back for not shifting. He leaned back against the rough bark of an acacia tree. Behind him, he heard the high-pitched yips of zebras frolicking on the open plains and listened to them while he tried to calm down.
He pulled out his wallet and flipped to a photo Kruger had given him. August was lifting weights. She wore skimpy gym shorts and a tank that showed off her flat stomach. Her sexy legs were short but very shapely. A flash of lust sent instant heat to his groin. Cursing his raging hormones, he scrutinized the picture. She was very petite, maybe five feet if that, feminine, curvy, yet trim. Her tiny size appealed to the dominant side of his nature.
The woman’s profile from the side was classic, with delicate features, so serenely beautiful that it made him blink. A thick, shiny, chestnut braid, glowing with red highlights, hung down her back.
Visions flashed through Arlan’s mind. He imagined fisting that thick braid in his hands as she knelt to suck his cock or positioning her on her knees face down on his mattress, cupping her tight ass, getting ready to drive into her.
Bloody hell!
Arlan slapped his wallet closed and slipped it into his back pocket, glancing down in some consternation at his tented shorts. August’s mother was rumored to be a powerful dark fae. Could this August be using some kind of magic to ensnare him from afar?
Is that why I’m so turned on by a mere photo?
He shook his head. No, surely not. Having had a dark-fae ex-lover like Silvara had made him paranoid and distrustful of his own kind. Besides, Kruger had warned him of the powerful attraction between air and fire. Apparently, this girl had fire-fae magic in her blood and was a true half-fae, a breed becoming harder and harder to find.
Once he got home, he’d reread Kruger’s instructions about sex magic and try to get his head around it some more.
Arlan scanned the dense thicket of thorn trees and, looked for the best path back to his work trailer, so he wouldn’t frighten any of the wildlife. In the distance, a pair of giraffes browsed on leaves from the acacia tree. Sweat stung his eyes. He could taste the dust that hung like red paprika in the air. He had to step into the thicket, crunching branches as he went and cursing at each snap of a branch that might disrupt the animals ‘feeding. Two bush flies made persistent buzzing darts around his neck, and he brushed at them in annoyance.
Many miles away lay Arlan’s sprawling stucco home, but while working with the lions in this part of the National Park, he slept in the work trailer. His friend and sometimes lover, Jay, slept there too, when his work took him out this way. Pride filled his soul when he thought of Jay in his cop’s uniform. His childhood friend had finally fulfilled his dream to protect and serve.
A whoosh of wings over his head made Arlan glance up. A flock of egrets sailed above him. He followed their path for a while until he reached his work trailer, where he headed straight for the fridge and pulled out a Castle Lager. He tipped the beer to his lips and took a small sip. The ice-cold beverage was like ambrosia to his parched throat. He pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket, wiped the sweat from his brow and chugged more of his beer.
After setting the half-full bottle on the sink bench, he pulled the wallet full of photos out again to have another peek at this August. Her face had a delicate beauty, with the wide cheekbones of an old-fashioned film goddess. She also had one hell of a sexy body, he’d give her that. But even the thought of trusting another woman with dark-fae blood running through her veins was unpalatable. It should make him feel sick inside, not crazy aroused.
He took another sip and shrugged. Either August would take an interest in him, or she wouldn’t. She’d either help him and Jay find the abducted children, or she wouldn’t. He sure wasn’t going to kiss her ass or let her manipulate him with dark-fae charm.
Given how hot she was, Jay would be interested. Jay was always interested in women. It seemed to take Jay’s mind off the fact he was also attracted to men, a fact that, at age twenty-one, Jay wasn’t mature enough to handle yet and found disturbing.
The beast within Arlan snarled at the thought. His cock was hard enough to cut diamonds just from looking at August. It made him want to s
eek out Jay.
Maybe, just maybe, he’ll be willing to take a break from work.
Maybe today would be one of those rare days the dominant policeman put aside his issues about being bisexual. Arlan pushed open the door of his work trailer and stepped out into the blazing heat again.
The sound of cicadas grew in volume with each rising degree of heat from the sun. Paradise fly catchers flitted around the acacia trees that stood off in the distance, and the dried ground around them seemed to waver in the heat. Arlan kept walking in search of his lover’s post.
At last he came to the observation post nestled among a cluster of granite boulders that afforded Jay a broad view of the main dirt road. From this vantage point, he could also take in any action on the many little dirt roads that forked off to the side.
Jay had stretched a canvas tarp across two boulders to protect himself from the heat. He’d lived here the past five days, coming back to the work trailer only to grab food and showers. Arlan bit his lip. Jay risked his life every day here to fight the men who threatened the wildlife in this area. It was something Arlan tried not to think too much about.
As he neared the observation point, he watched Jay bend to put a thermos back in his backpack lying on the ground. The action gave Arlan a good view of Jay’s muscular butt in tight shorts. “Hey, Jay.”
Jay straightened and stood up. A little sound of pleasure escaped Arlan’s throat at the sight of his lover. Taller than Arlan by several inches, his best friend was built like a tank, with muscular arms and darker skin that bespoke a touch of Shona blood. His real fae mother must have been very fair-skinned, or Jay’s skin might have been somewhere closer to the blue-black of the Shona tribe so prevalent in this area. Instead, it was a luscious caramel color, his facial features strong and sculpted.
Jay lowered his sunglasses. Cynical dark eyes caught Arlan and pinned him to the spot, glittering fae eyes that had haunted Arlan’s dreams since that day in boarding school when his best friend had become something more.
Where was Jay’s head at today? What mood was he in? His lover had issues. Arlan’s life mate was a cop, and in this country, things could be deadly dangerous, but they had magic on their side. At last, Jay spoke. “Why don’t you come on over and say hello?” There was a definite edge to the word “hello”.
Claimed by Fae: MMF Paranormal Romance (Magical Mayhem Menage Book 2) Page 2
