Davies, Corinne - Wrapped in Fur [3xtasy Lake 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Corinne Davies

  Holly jumped, took the heavy tray from the older woman, and carried it to the table for her. Aniela had taught her so much about this century. She didn’t want her to feel like a servant, too. “You love him?”

  “As if he were my own son. Which is why I think you should meet him.” She filled a teacup and passed it to her. “I think now would be a good time to tell you about him. Holly, was it?”

  Holly nodded slightly and then took a sip of tea. Wonderful stuff, really. For all of the human race’s disasters, they couldn’t be all bad if they had managed to keep this tradition going.

  “I would like to hear more about him. All things considered, and I mean no disrespect but, I do not think that you understand completely what you are doing.”

  “Oh, hush. It worked, didn’t it? If you weren’t meant for someone close to me, then how did I manage to free you? Since I don’t have any children, there is only one that is for you, and it is my nephew. I practically raised the headstrong boy. His parents couldn’t handle him. They’re good people, just introverted and a bit selfish. They had no idea what they were getting into when they decided to start a family, and didn’t have another child after Brand.”

  Holly sighed and listened to the old woman tell her about her beloved nephew. Despite her misgivings about the old woman’s theories, it was a relief finally to be free from the crystal after all this time. She stretched out her arms, and her gossamer wings fluttered restlessly behind her.

  She was so furious when she cursed Lord Spencer Marshall she failed to consider the ramifications to herself. He’d loved that Christian winter celebration, and she’d wanted to ruin it for him. His precious celebration would mark his own demise unless he properly acknowledged her love and returned it. Now, she had until Christmas to make Lord Spencer Marshall fall in love with her. A ridiculous clause she was completely at fault for creating. She knew centuries stood between her and his death, and she had no idea how to find one of his blood relatives. Not that she was certain she could substitute a family member at this point. She would be better off enjoying the freedom this wonderful woman gave her and try not to think of the consequences.

  “You know you will need to hide those.” Aniela pointed at her wings. The old woman’s words startled her. “Most don’t believe the old stories anymore, and your kind is pretty much considered a child’s tale.”

  That tidbit of information amazed her, and her diaphanous wings fluttered in agitation. They considered anything faery a child’s tale? Most of the fey she knew were better kept as far away from young humans as possible. The innocence of youth was too tempting to her kind. Of course, it felt as though there weren’t too many of her kind left anymore. The fey energy that used to flow on the breeze had all but vanished. An ache for her own kind swelled in her chest. She had hoped that the loneliness would have abated by now. She may not have been conscious of the passing of time, but she still felt as lonely as the day she created her shell.

  “Do you really want to tell him that I am a faery? What makes you think that he will believe you?”

  “Oh, he won’t. I guarantee it.” Aniela smiled. “That is up to you, sweets. Honesty is the best thing. Trust me.”

  What the old woman didn’t understand was the limited time Holly would spend in this world. Despite what the human stories told, her kind might be very long-lived but weren’t immortal. The magic needed to evade death was beyond her talents. Not that it would have made any difference. Deep down she knew exactly how much time she had left, and the sad thing was it wouldn’t be enough.

  The spell she cast on that fateful day centuries ago had ended up nothing like she had expected. She had wanted the young lord to have his heart locked in ice so he would never feel love. Yes, looking back she may have overreacted a tad. Now, her own existence was locked in human traditions.

  Aniela had misinterpreted that bit of information on the parchment, and Holly didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. Had she waited another week, then Holly would have had a full year to make her nephew fall in love with her. To accomplish such a goal in a mere seven days would be impossible. The best that she could do was to try to find a little happiness or contentment before her own life ended.

  Aniela smiled gently at her and struggled only slightly as she pushed herself out of the plush chair. “Come, I’ll show you to your room. Don’t look so downcast, sweetie. Magic is in the air. This time of year is all about hope and gifts. It will work out. You’ll see.”

  Holly followed her through the house and up a narrow staircase. Scores of pictures of happy faces in a variety of frames dotted the walls. She wondered briefly which smile would belong to Brand. She paused at one picture, her breath catching in her throat. Surrounded by a stained wooden frame was a photo of a young man, caught midlaugh. Long, blond curls framed his face and flowed at least halfway down his back. His lean, well-formed body twisted in an awkward pose, as if he was falling.

  “Found him already, did you? His friends had just pushed him in the pool.” Aniela’s withered finger tapped the glass as she gazed fondly at the photo. “Brand was terrible for pulling pranks, and that day they got him back. He looks different now. Cut his hair off and stopped pulling pranks. He grew old so fast.”

  “Why?”

  “A tragic accident, I’m afraid. He had been out at a Christmas party with a bunch of the local teenagers. They were at one of the boys’ houses and had been drinking far too much. Brand got in an argument with the girl he was dating and when he fell asleep, she decided to drive herself home. Poor thing lost control of her car and crashed. The doctors said she died instantly, not that it mattered.”

  As the story unfolded, Holly looked closely at the youth in the picture. Such happiness and carefree bliss. If it wasn’t for the clothes he would look like a fey prince. Golden and strong with a confirmed mischievous streak, his good nature was apparent because he was laughing as his friends retaliated. Did he have any clue what would happen to him? Any feelings of dread or foreboding?

  “Poor boy. He’s never forgiven himself, always thinking that it was his fault. As if he could have seen the future. After that, he developed a terribly serious streak. Don’t get me wrong I’m incredibly proud of his accomplishments, but with all his single-minded work ethic there’s no balance. He needs some fun in his life. Some whimsy. What could be better than a faery and a bit of Christmas magic, right?” The older woman cackled gleefully and gripped the handrail as she headed up the last of the stairs.

  Holly took a last look at the picture and pursed her lips to stop a sigh. She felt like the weight of the universe just settled on her shoulders. This wonderful woman thought she could help this man. It was out of her hands now. That little bit of Christmas magic the old woman had so much faith in is what would eventually end her life.

  * * * *

  Colwyn Marshall stood in the bathroom rubbing his hair with a towel when his phone started ringing. Why the hell would someone be calling at this time of night? It had to be Vencel with a last minute change to the plans they were working on. It certainly wouldn’t be a date, because he couldn’t remember the last time he had one of those. The only thing that saved him from having blue balls was a monthly trip to Toronto to go barhopping. That usually took care of any immediate needs. It wasn’t anywhere near fulfilling, but it took the edge off. He’d come to terms long ago with the fact that this was how his life would be. A long string of meaningless fucks because the intense connection he longed for once was no longer there.

  A quick glance at the number he didn’t recognize, and he almost didn’t bother answering it. If it was a telemarketer calling at ten at night, he might snap. “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Um, Colwyn? Ah, hi…It’s Brand. I know I must be the last person you’d expected to hear from.”

  Colwyn recognized the voice immediately, and it felt like he’d taken a punch to the stomach. Ten years had passed since he’d heard this voice. How many times had he wished he had the nerve to call but
had been afraid of the reaction or rejection?

  “You still there?” Brand asked.

  “Yeah, sorry there was a bad connection for a moment. You doing well? I heard you ended up in Vancouver.”

  “Um yeah, it’s okay here. Except, it feels like sometimes it never stops raining at times. I do bookwork and accounts for a firm here. I’m an accountant, who’da thought, huh?” A forced laugh from Brand proved this conversation was growing uncomfortable for him. Colwyn could hear the hesitation in Brand’s voice and hated the stupid direction they were going in. They used to be able to talk for hours and if there was a lull in conversation it was never uncomfortable.

  “What are you up to?”

  “I'm an architect. I worked in Toronto for a few years and then I got a job with a new company up here in Ecstasy. We’re working on designs for environmentally friendly houses that regular people can afford.”

  “That sounds fascinating. I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well.”

  I’m not, it’s been ten years and I miss your friendship. The words caught in Colwyn’s throat. He couldn’t bring himself to say them now, no more than he could back then. After the accident, Brand had run to the other side of the country. He probably had a nice, meek little wife who wouldn’t play any of the games he and Brand had fantasized about. Any more of this strained small talk and he’d go dive into the lake and see how deep he could go before he ran out of air. He wanted to get off the phone.

  “What did you call for, Brand?”

  “I need you to look in on my aunt for me. She called and told me about some woman she has staying with her. She wouldn’t give me any details, and I’m afraid that this woman is trying to take advantage of her.”

  Colwyn winced when he heard the reason. Of course Brand wouldn’t call to talk to him. There had to be another reason to call. Brand wouldn’t pick up the phone, after a decade, to tell him that he missed their friendship. “Yeah, of course I’ll check in on her, but you know your aunt isn’t some senile old woman. She can still kick ass if she wants to.”

  “I know, but I worry about her, and I’m so far away.”

  “That was your choice, man. You didn’t have to run like you did.”

  “I didn’t have any choice. You know what happened.”

  “Yeah I do, and I stuck around and faced the repercussions. I didn’t run away from my family and people who loved me.”

  The silence on the phone was deafening and Colwyn wanted to kick himself in the ass for shooting his mouth off like that. He thought that he had worked through his anger from the tragedy that ended their friendship.

  “I know,” Brand finally said. “Listen, if you could talk to my aunt and check in on her, I’d really appreciate it. I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you. If I thought I could trust anyone else then I would, but I don’t.”

  That was the problem. Brand didn’t trust anyone and never had. He had run thinking the entire town would turn on them, but they hadn’t. After the accident, the town had rallied around Colwyn, especially since Brand had run away. Colwyn knew Brand had always felt like an outsider in a town where mythical beings outnumbered the humans about five to one. If only he’d opened his eyes and realized that he was loved as well as anyone else. Brand always had trouble believing he was worthy of love.

  “Hey, of course I’ll check in on her. I’ll go over in the morning to make certain that she’s all right and check up on this mysterious visitor.”

  “Thanks, man. I really don’t know how to repay you?”

  “I would do anything for a friend. You know that.”

  “Am I still a friend, Colwyn? I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

  “I did, for a long time, but I couldn’t hold on to that forever.”

  “I’m going to come to the lake for a few days and talk her into moving out west with me. Why don’t we have a coffee together?”

  “Yeah, that would be great.” Colwyn banged the back of his head against the wall. That would be fucking horrible. Brand wanted to take his one link to this town away. If he did, then he would have no reason to come back. That would be the end of every foolish dream he held on to. He moved back to Ecstasy Lake hoping that one day they would find themselves here with a beautiful woman to share. They said their goodbyes and then hung up the phone.

  Chapter Three

  Colwyn didn’t know what to expect when he pulled in the long driveway leading to the antique shop, but spotting a pair of shapely legs dangling from a tree near the road wasn’t it. He slowed down the truck and lowered the window. The crisp morning air tingled against his cheeks, and his breath puffed out in a cloud. What the hell was she doing? A pair of big, furry boots hung from a branch in the tree. Colwyn looked closer and realized they were attached to a body perched on a high branch. A woman was tying what appeared to be ribbons to the branch above her. She looked like she might fall at any moment.

  She wore a high-necked, long coat that looked warm, but her cheeks appeared flushed. All that dark red, curly hair and perfect ivory skin might explain why the color in her cheeks stood out. She would be sensitive to the elements. I bet she gets covered in freckles in the summer. Inexplicably, his heart pounded in a way it hadn’t for years. Something about her drew him in, and the attraction he felt was undeniable. She was so covered up he fantasized about peeling off all those layers and seeing what lay underneath. Better yet, he could sit here and imagine that under that high-neck wool coat she wore a tiny bit of lingerie from the latest Victoria’s Secret catalogue. With her coloring, he could imagine her in almost anything. Hell, she could wear a sack and still look pretty.

  The woman had managed to climb up the old oak tree and sat on a thick branch similar to the way someone would ride sidesaddle. Below her, an old, decrepit-looking ladder lay sideways on the ground. That must be how she got up there, but if she tries to jump down, she’ll break her lovely neck.

  He pulled the truck up to the side of the road and yelled, “Hey, do you need some help?”

  He felt bad when she jumped slightly and gripped the branch below her. How was it she didn’t hear his truck but she heard his voice?

  “Oh, thank you very much, but I’m cool. I appreciate your attempt at chivalry, but it is entirely unnecessary.” She gave him a small wave as she reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked like more ribbons.

  “How do you think you are going to get down from there, fly?”

  She looked down at him, arched a delicate eyebrow, and rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. I believe glide is a more appropriate term in this case.”

  “Like a rock?”

  She frowned at his attempt at humor and then turned away and tied the long ribbons together, making an almost weblike structure. While she acted as if she had dismissed him, she kept peeking quick looks over at him.

  Colwyn watched her and tried to figure out exactly what it was about her that fascinated him. Her speech was a unique mix of formal as well as slang. Despite her confidence, he couldn’t see how she would manage to get out of the tree without breaking her neck. He pulled the truck forward, and then backed up until his truck bed was underneath the branch where she was perched. He jumped out of the truck and then lifted himself into the bed. Standing underneath her, he lifted his arms and wiggled his fingers at her, attempting to coax her out of the tree. “Come on, little bird.”

  “You are quite mad. Do you know that?” She grinned down at him and her smile lit up a part of his heart he’d thought would remain in darkness forever.

  “I’ve been accused of worse. I’ll catch you if you jump.”

  “All right, but I told you this was completely unnecessary.” She pushed herself off the branch and Colwyn braced himself for her weight. She drifted down at a completely unnatural speed and eased into his open arms. She didn’t weigh hardly anything, and when her scent hit him, it almost took him to his knees. It wasn’t the scent of a human or a shifter. She smelled of the sea and of the wind on a summer�
�s day. Her scent was foreign, but at the same time, completely natural.

  Colwyn didn’t really care what she was because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was now and always would be his. He stood there holding her slight form, and stared down at her heart-shaped face. She had eyes the color of the ice out on the lake. A deep, dark blue that looked almost opalescent in the sun. She didn’t have a smidge of makeup on, but her lashes were black as coal, and her lips looked like the red of his mum’s favorite Diana roses. His brain scrambled for an answer of what she could be, but only one answer came to mind, and that was impossible.

  “So, little bird. Why did you crawl up into a tree on a cold winter’s morning to hang decorations?”

  “Because I wanted to repay a favor.”

  That didn’t make a bit of sense to him, but the woman in his arms obviously felt it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. “You wouldn’t happen to be the young woman staying with Aniela?”

  “I think it is more polite to have a conversation if both of our feet were touching the ground, don’t you?”

  She wriggled slightly in his arms, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Having her in his arms made him feel better than he had in the last decade. He sat down on the edge of the truck bed, keeping her in his lap. “So, do you have a name, or shall I continue to call you my little bird?”

  “I have no control over what you want to call me, but, since you have asked, my name is Holly.”

  “Holly what?”

  “Just Holly. What’s yours?”

  “Colwyn Marshall.”

  “Marshall?” He didn’t miss the way her body reacted to his name. She stiffened up and her face pinched up in a scowl. She pushed away from him with such force. He was afraid that she would hurt herself if he held on to her. “You’re a long way from your clan, Colwyn.”

  “I’m many generations from belonging to a clan, Holly.”

  “Yes, of course.” Her features softened and her body relaxed. That seemed to appease her concern, but he had no idea why.