Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple I

by Various

  “Actually he did both, mentioned your name but tried to take the credit. Mine was thrown in for flavor.”

  Trancelike, Eve stared at the videolink, her mind trying to process the horror of what her boss had done. Singled them all out for what would most likely be a violent and sudden death. The ridiculous part about this was that he probably had no idea what he had unleashed. Eve had joked with Charles about being on the One Racers’ hit list, but she never doubted the resources she could pull, the public relations work that would help the final outcome, or the muscle she could hire until it all boiled over. Now that safety rug had been yanked out from under her. They would kill not only her, but also anyone associated with her. Eve closed her eyes to concentrate.

  Adam made a move to go to his mate, he could feel her hurting and he wanted it to stop. But Charles stopped him. His whispered, “Don’t! She is working out how to get through this, what needs to be done. Give her a minute.” So Adam used his minute wisely. Keeping his eye on his mate, he reached for the earphones attached to the vid-screen and had Charles give him a quick rundown of the project Eve had been working on. What he heard took several years off his life. He started doing some plotting of his own.

  Eve’s house monitor beeped. The vid-screen spilt in two, with Charles on one screen and the front of Eve’s house on the other. On her porch stood a man and a woman. Scratch that…a vampire and a woman. They didn’t look happy.

  Adam rose to answer the door, glancing first at Eve. She still hadn’t moved.

  The vampire’s eyes showed no shock at seeing Adam answer the door, but the human woman went ballistic. “If you have so much as touched a hair on her head, I’ll kill you!” she growled. And moved to go through him.

  The vampire gently pulled her into his arms. “Jezi, dear, he has more than touched her, but I doubt he’s harmed her in any way.”

  The small firebrand was Eve’s sister. Jezebel. Their parents may have been full human, but this woman was trouble, you could see it in her. Adam could believe that she never forgave, she got even and then some. He made a mental note to always use her nickname. The vampire cradled her gently in his arms. Luke Skylord. If there was 124

  A.D. 2203: Adam & Eve

  such a thing, he was king of all the Others. “Luke,” Adam said in acknowledgement.

  They’d worked together for years.

  “Adam. I am sure there is a fascinating story as to how you cornered Eve, knowing how she felt about Were-mates, but right now we need to speak with her on an urgent matter,” Luke said.

  “I know why you are here, Luke. Her assistant just called with the news. Eve has gone into some sort of catatonic state that Charles has warned me not to interrupt.”

  “Of course not, she’s thinking. Get out of my way. I need to see my sister.”

  Adam wisely moved from the doorway, letting the red-haired steamroller past him.

  Luke sighed, “I have found that with all the women in the Longtree family, it is just easier to move out of their way unless it is vitally important. You might want to remember that, Adam.”

  Adam followed the odd couple back into Eve’s family room. He wanted to laugh at the t-shirt the spitfire was wearing: “Vampires give the best hickies!”, it proclaimed in dripping red letters across a black shirt. Cute. But he couldn’t laugh; somehow he had to find a way out of this mess. If he hadn’t sworn a Blood Oath…

  “Why don’t you just take her and hide her in Europe or Asia or something?” Luke questioned.

  Adam shook his head, “Before I had any clue what I had gotten myself into I swore a Blood Oath not to interfere with her work. She seemed to have some sort of hang up about that. Foolishly, I wanted to reassure her.”

  “Understood. With Jezi you don’t ever want to mention her appearance. God help you if you try to suggest how she dress, or say anything about what might be appropriate, or that you even like or dislike something she’s wearing.” Luke winced.

  “Don’t tell me. Matthew, the short and hairy werewolf stepfather, told their mother how to dress?”

  “Oh, it was never so crass as to be an outright demand. Just subtle emotional warfare that was visible even to a child.” Luke let out a pent up breath. “The good news is that he learned from his mistakes. Slowly, but he learned. He isn’t nearly the Cro-Magnon, male chauvinist pig that he used to be. Or so Naomi tells me.”

  “Some day I hope to verify that for myself. What is Matthew’s last name?”

  Luke grinned evilly. “Nightclan.”

  Adam winced, his face showing his disgust. “Of course he is a member of a Neanderthal throwback clan. I should have guessed.”

  Adam moved to Eve’s side. He couldn’t bear to see her like this. “Eve, honey.”

  Three people hissed at him to be quiet. Adam ignored them all. “Sweetheart,” he said as he knelt in front of her. He watched intently as her eyelids fluttered, then opened and he met her warm amber-toned gaze. “You don’t have to work through this on your own, Eve. I am in this with you,” he reassured her.

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  Ravyn Wilde

  “I can’t come up with a plan, Adam. There are too many variables. My sister, Luke, my parents, my brother…Charles. I don’t know how to protect all of them!” she cried.

  “Sweetheart, let Luke and me worry about protecting all of you. Right now you need to concentrate on telling me how to gather up your research. Is it all at the lab? Is there more than one copy? We need to make sure you have it, so that when you have a chance you can finish it. And that someone else doesn’t get a hold of it,” he calmly stated.

  Jezi loudly interrupted, “How can you be concerned about her research at a time like this?

  What kind of a monster…”

  “Jezi, love, hush,” Luke said firmly.

  Eve blinked, and looked around the room to see her sister and Luke. “I didn’t realize you two had come over.”

  Jezi rushed to her sister. “Luke heard about that jerk boss of yours making an announcement about some of your research and he felt you would be in danger. We came right over and he met us at the door.” She pointed an accusing finger at Adam.

  “Now he is more concerned with your research than with your safety. Who is he, Eve?

  What is he doing here?”

  Eve looked at her sister and sighed. “It’s a long story, Jez. And one I don’t have time to go into. You are going to have to be quiet and let me hit the highlights. Adam is my mate. He’s a werewolf and he scented and marked me a few days ago.”

  In order to prove her point, Eve started to drop the sleeve of her shirt when she realized she wasn’t wearing one. She was wrapped in a sheet. “Oh, for heavens sake!

  You can see the marks for yourself, sis,” Eve continued, ignoring her sister’s gasp. “The secret project I have been working on is a serum.” At this she hesitated, looking first at Adam and then Luke. Both men nodded at her, giving their support. Heavily sighing, she turned back to her sister, her best friend. She was also the warm-blooded wife of a vampire and stoically acknowledged the fact that she’d never be able to have children, when she wanted them so badly. Vampire couples weren’t allowed to adopt.

  “I wanted to wait, Jezi. I didn’t want to tell you about this until I was one hundred percent sure that it would work and I haven’t finished my research. It hasn’t even been tested. This serum will allow a Vampire male a small window of opportunity to produce viable sperm. If during this time, the Vampire mates with a warm-blooded female, he could produce offspring.” Eve fell silent, waiting for her sister’s reaction.

  At first a look of happiness, so unbelievable in its intensity bloomed across Jezi’s face. Then a look of abject horror. “Oh. My. God,” she sputtered. “You’re not just in danger like somebody hates your guts and might try and tamper with your glide. Eve, they will kill you for this! Painfully!” Sudden realization had her jumping to her feet.

  “And you did this for me. Well, Miss ‘I can fix everyone’s hurts’…take it
back. I won’t have you do this and end up dead. I refuse to have a child with your blood! With your blood on my hands….Oh…you know what I mean. I am furious with you, Eve!” Then she seemed to deflate before their eyes. “Evie, they’ll kill you…”

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  A.D. 2203: Adam & Eve

  Eve moved clumsily in her sheet to take her sister in her arms. “Look on the bright side, honey. I’m not the only one they’ll try to kill.”

  Jezi closed her eyes for a moment, sighed and looked at her sister. Shaking her head she acknowledged the truth in Eve’s words, “No, anyone and everyone in your family tree and even nodding acquaintances will be marked for death.” Hugging her, she continued, “Good. Maybe they’ll get rid of your idiot boss. We need to get you packed and out of here.”

  The Longtree’s didn’t waste time with worrying about things they couldn’t change.

  This was a time for action.

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  Ravyn Wilde

  Chapter 10

  Much later that night Adam and Eve were getting ready for bed. For the moment Adam knew they were safe. The house was secure with a combined force of Were and Vamp protectors. A recovery team had successfully retrieved Eve’s research and supplies from her work lab. Most of the equipment and necessary paraphernalia from her very impressive home laboratory/sealed room had been packed and would be moved to his place tomorrow. Eve had been shocked when she discovered he was not only a member of the largest and most powerful clan of werewolves in the world, but their leader.

  She had looked at him blankly, muttered whatever is needed indeed, and then agreed that the best bet for her and her family—and Charles’s safety—was to move them all to his home. At least for now.

  His family had a large walled compound, almost a fortress. They had been the leaders of a strong werewolf clan through decades of war and unrest, but even in these

  ‘enlightened’ times it was necessary for them to have a stronghold to defend against the militant One Racers. His home had the best in latest technology and an army of werewolves to protect his new wife. It had only taken his agreement to provide her a separate room for her lab, and any normalcy he could provide for her family. She had actually seemed relieved to hand over all the details of their safety to him. And Luke and his reinforcements would provide backup and had promised any support needed.

  After all, they had a vested interest in Eve’s latest development.

  Eve looked a little pensive as she came out of the bathroom. Adam quietly moved behind her to enfold her in his arms. “Now what are you worrying about?” he asked quietly.

  “Ummm, nothing to do with our situation. Well, it has to do with the circumstances between you and me, not the safety issue,” Eve stated. “I know that some human mates stay…well—human when bitten. My mother is one that didn’t change. But some develop the ability to transform, become loupe-garou. I guess that since I found out you were a leader of your clan—a powerful clan—that you will be disappointed with me if I don’t become lycanthropic.” Eve turned in Adam’s arms to look at him questioningly.

  Adam looked at her seriously. “How do you feel about it? Do you hate the idea of transforming?”

  Eve shrugged. “It won’t bother me either way. I will still be me, whether I turn hairy once in awhile or not. It is you and your family I worry about. And the fact that we could have human, not Were, children.”

  Adam laughed. “You are worrying too far into the future, Eve. I can tell you that whether you turn hairy or not will not matter to me or my family. The same goes for any 128

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  children we might have. Remember, Eve, you are my genetic match. More than that, I already know I love you.”

  Eve’s eyes widened. “You do?’’

  “Yes, love. I do.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Your determination and love for your family that comes out in trying to make everything in their world right. Your dedication. And the weird fascination you have for anything with a pink stork on it.”

  Hugely grinning, Eve laughed. “They’re flamingos! And you forgot to mention how my body drives you wild.”

  “Oh, I didn’t forget that,” Adam said as he slid the butt-ugly blue robe from her shoulders. Softly he added, “And someday, you will come to love me. I have decided to make it my life’s work.”

  “Short work,” she smiled as she lifted her arms to pull him to her. Just as his mouth was about to claim hers she moaned, “I already do.”

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  About the author:

  Ravyn Wilde was born in Oregon and has spent several years in New Guinea and Singapore. She is married, has three children, and is currently living in Utah. Ravyn is happiest when she has a book in one hand and a drink in the other—preferably sprawled on a beach! Readers may write to Ravyn at RavynWilde@msn.com.

  Ravyn welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.

  Also by Ravyn Wilde:

  Zylar’s Moons 1: Zylan Captive

  Zylar’s Moons 2: Selven Refuge

  AT HIS MERCY

  Doreen DeSalvo

  At His Mercy

  The man following the maitre’d to her table couldn’t possibly be Jacob McIntyre. He looked too young. Too casual, in his sweater and trousers, a suit jacket slung over one shoulder. But he walked with a determined, confident stride, like a man used to getting his own way.

  His gaze locked onto hers…and a burst of awareness filled her consciousness, so suddenly that it made her draw a sharp breath. The soft piano music faded, and a roar like the ocean filled her ears. The lights, already dim in this exclusive hotel restaurant, seemed to gray around the edges of her vision until nothing was illuminated but his staring, shining blue eyes.

  She hadn’t even tried to read him, but she knew this rush of feeling was coming from him.

  He wants me.

  Even if she hadn’t felt it through a psychic connection, the appreciation in his eyes would have told her.

  I like a soft, voluptuous woman.

  What? Wow, she was hearing his thoughts. Hearing them without even trying. This never happened. She’d learned to control her abilities young. Learned to turn them on and off at will.

  It must be nerves. This research grant meant a lot to her.

  She looked away and took a slow, deep breath, consciously feeling the crisp linen tablecloth underneath her forefinger, the firm chair under her butt. She wriggled her toes in her tight high-heeled pumps. Concentrating on physical sensations always helped ground her. Yes, that was better.

  He sat down across from her, and she met his gaze evenly. He couldn’t be over thirty-five. Much younger than she’d expected for a university board member. And far more handsome, especially with that navy cashmere sweater lighting up his gorgeous blue eyes. His unruly dark brown hair was pushed back casually from a high forehead, but one lock slipped over his ear as though it was too fine to stay put for long. His nose was a bit too large, but it made him even more handsome. Without that tiny flaw, he’d look too pretty. He was a hell of a package, all right.

  He gave her a brief nod. “I’m Jake McIntyre. You must be the psychic.”

  And you must be the tight-fisted skeptic. Too bad she couldn’t say it. If she pissed him off, she wouldn’t have a prayer of getting this grant. He was the only holdout on the review committee.

  “I’m an intuitive,” she corrected. “Faith Hartley.”

  His smile looked insincere. More like a sneer. “Is that the politically correct word?

  Does psychic sound too much like a charlatan?”

  She’d heard that insult before. “It’s simply the word I prefer.”

  A waiter appeared. “May I take your order?”

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  Doreen DeSalvo

  Even though it was late, she’d planned on getting dessert. But with the way this meeting was going, she didn’t want to prolong it. “Jus
t a cup of decaf for me, please.”

  “I’ll have a mineral water. And the chocolate torte.”

  Damn him. Now she’d be drooling over his dessert. At least his arrogance made her less tempted to drool over him.

  “No dessert?” he prompted. “The pastry chef here is legendary.”

  True. But she didn’t want to give in to him, not even on something so trivial. “No, thanks.”

  “I’ve read your grant proposal,” he said, after the waiter was gone. “Frankly, I’m concerned that any involvement from the university would be seen as a joke in the scientific community. The university’s reputation is already on shaky ground after that marijuana study they financed last year.”

  That pot study had been a joke. “There’s no comparison. My study doesn’t involve an illegal substance.”

  “But it’s still on the outer fringes of science. Metaphysics isn’t really physics, after all.”

  As if that made it less valid. “There have been hundreds, if not thousands, of scientific studies on intuitive powers. Studies going back dozens of years.”

  “Not funded by a prestigious university. I hate to tell you this, but I’m planning to advise the university not to even give you the space to conduct the study, let alone fund it.”

  So why was he wasting her time with this meeting? She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, ready to argue with him.

  His gaze dropped to her breasts. At least she wasn’t reading his thoughts this time.

  But the expression in his eyes, the sexy tilt to his lips, made her breathing quicken.

  And then she saw it—a picture from his head, from his imagination. His hands unbuttoning her shirt, pushing it off her shoulders, leaving it tangled around her wrists.

  He got her bra wrong—he envisioned it as beige, not white, and a lot flimsier than her ample breasts demanded. In the vision he yanked the straps off her shoulders without a word, pulling the cups down so his hands could cover her naked breasts.

  A rush of heat flooded her face. Damn her pale skin—it showed every blush. Maybe he wouldn’t notice; the flickering candle on their table didn’t cast much light. At least he didn’t know she’d read his mind. And how had she done that? She wasn’t even trying to connect with him.