“I said close your eyes, Missy,” Gerri rebuked Celeste, prompting her to shut her eyes tightly. “Now, think about your perfect man,” she continued as if she could see that Celeste had obeyed her command.
Although she hadn’t thought she could focus on anything, a memory came back to Celeste. It was a recollection from when she was a kid and her parents were still alive. Her mother’s birthday would be in a few days, and her father had brought Celeste with him as he chose the perfect gift for her mother.
Celeste’s heart filled with love.
“I know exactly who your man is,” Gerri said, startling Celeste.
“How could you possibly know?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Julia had told her the woman had special powers, but it still sounded farfetched that she could match people with their mates with such ease.
“You were thinking of your parents, and how your father was attentive toward your mother. He adored her, and you want someone who could love you as your father loved your mother. Am I wrong?” Gerri asked.
“Well,” Celeste started. “No, you aren’t wrong at all,” she admitted.
“If you stop analyzing everything and just let your emotions drive you, you’ll feel much better,” Gerri said. “Now, listen to me carefully.”
“Okay.”
“Not every man is an abusive son of a bitch—”
“I know. But—”
“No but. I have the perfect man for you. You just have to say ‘Yes, Gerri. I want to meet him.’ Can you do that? Or do you want to live the rest of your life in fear? Remember, you can’t do anything to change your past, but the way you live your present shapes your future.”
Gerri’s words overwhelmed Celeste. They were the same words Julia had been repeating to her for the last two years. Deep inside, Celeste knew both Gerri and Julia were right. It was up to her to decide how her future panned out. Royce had come close to destroying her, and it was about time she was in charge of her life again.
“What’s it going to be?” Gerri asked. “Are you courageous enough to take the bull by its horns and live again?”
Yesterday, Celeste might have hesitated. Now, she didn’t have to think about her answer. “I am.”
“Then say the words.”
“Yes, Gerri. I want to meet him,” Celeste said.
“Excellent. This is what you need to do next. You buy the first ticket to Angel’s Pass in Washington State, and spend the weekend there. It’s a small town run by the Sunrise Pack. The man you’re looking for is there. You’ll thank me later.” Without warning, Gerri hung up, leaving Celeste staring at the same kitchen wall she had been staring at before but with her mind filled with hope and a million questions.
Celeste looked outside the airplane window. Thousands of feet below, green forests and volcanoes created a landscape straight out of a werewolf fairy tale.
“That’s Mount Rainier,” said Mrs. Lucinda, the lady in the middle seat.
The elderly teacher had introduced herself at the beginning of the flight and kept talking to Celeste the entire time. Mrs. Lucinda was a fairy, and her bubbly manners only confirmed the stereotypes about her species, but in a good way.
Looking at the large mountain emerging from the sea of white clouds, Celeste nodded. “It’s beautiful.”
“Now the park is closed, but when the snow melts during the summer, you should come back for a hike. My husband and I…” The nice lady droned on, but Celeste wasn’t listening any longer.
One unplanned trip to Seattle was enough. Celeste had no intention of flying again, ever. Not because of the talkative teacher, the woman was sweet, but because werewolves hated being caged in a plane for any amount of time. Smells and sounds were amplified inside the cabin, and she couldn’t open a window to stick her face out and breathe.
“It’s so romantic, what you’re doing,” Mrs. Lucinda said, patting Celeste’s arm.
Stupid was the word that came to mind when Celeste thought about her hurried decision to meet a strange man in a city far away from her beloved Dallas. Harebrained for sure. Definitely not romantic. After the first moment of excitement, the stark reality of what she was doing had crushed her. Her hope had vanished, but the million questions remained.
A few minutes later, the plane finally landed at SeaTac.
“Don’t worry about a thing, child. Everything will work out in the end,” Mrs. Lucinda said as they stepped out of the plane. “Gerri Wilder never fails.”
The lady’s statement surprised Celeste because she hadn’t mentioned Gerri Wilder.
Before she could say anything, the fairy hugged her, gave her the most angelic smile, and then skipped ahead like a five-year-old. At the baggage claim, Celeste saw an older gentleman welcome Mrs. Lucinda with a bouquet of red roses.
I wish someone would buy me flowers, Celeste thought. Bringing her hand to her chest, Celeste couldn’t help but sigh.
Royce, her ex, had never had those kinds of thoughts for her, and they had been together for six long years before their story took a turn for the horrific. She pressed her palm against her heart. Two years had passed, but it still hurt. A lot.
With teary eyes, she followed the crowd converging toward the exit. A few minutes later, the Uber she had called arrived. The driver wasn’t a talkative guy, and she was thankful for his silence. Soon, they were navigating the afternoon traffic, driving toward the small village of Angel’s Pass, nestled in the Cascade Mountain Range. Once they left the highway, they started climbing isolated ridges, and Celeste finally relaxed, looking out the window at the passing landscape.
“It sure is green around here,” she commented, breaking the silence. For the last hour, they had been driving through a never-ending forest of tall trees.
The driver chuckled. “It always surprises people.”
They spend the next few minutes in small talk before the man announced, “Angel’s Pass is just around the bend, Miss.”
Celeste had seen the pictures online when she researched the place Gerri was sending her to, but reality made for a much prettier sight. The village looked like it had been moved straight from Bavaria, charming chalets, wrought-iron lampposts and all.
“Here we are,” the driver said, pulling to a stop in front of a small, wooden cottage with gabled roofs and painted shingles. Delicate flowers bloomed in planters hanging from the windows.
A playful breeze ruffled her long hair as she exited the car and accepted her luggage from the driver. She absentmindedly thanked him and took a few steps toward the chalet she had rented for the weekend.
A woman came out off the house and greeted Celeste with a bright smile. “Miss Green?” At Celeste’s nod, the woman continued, “I am Mrs. Grange. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.”
Celeste had emailed back and forth with the chalet’s owner, and the woman looked in person exactly as Celeste had imagined, kind and pretty.
“Come, and I’ll show you the house.” Mrs. Grange motioned for Celeste to follow her inside.
The cottage was delightful, and it smelled like a fairy bakery. It was the perfect place to spend a romantic retreat. Too bad Celeste was alone.
For now, she reminded herself. Stop being such a pessimist. I’m here to remedy that, right?
“I took the liberty of baking a pie for you. It’s in the oven,” Mrs. Grange said from the doorway as she left.
“Is this place for real?” Celeste asked out loud, making a beeline for the oven.
Even if she didn’t get to meet this fabled man of her dreams as Gerri had promised her, she could always have a good time in this paradise.
3
Driving his Jeep through the dense forest, Milan looked in the rearview mirror to check on Kurosawa, the big German Shepherd sitting in the back.
“Your owner is an ass,” Milan said out loud.
Kurosawa whined and brought his big paw between the front seats before lowering his head against Milan’s shoulder.
“I’m only doi
ng this for you because you are a good boy.” Milan patted Kurosawa’s head, which earned him a contented rumble from the dog.
After driving for hours on the congested highway, leaving so-called civilization and entering the Cascade Mountain Range had been a relief. The nearby forests scented the air with a resin smell that filled Milan’s lungs and relaxed him. He preferred riding his bike instead of driving a car, but he couldn’t carry Kurosawa on the bike, and compromises had been made for the dog’s sake. Besides, he had removed the doors from his Renegade, and it almost felt liking riding a bike.
“We’re almost there,” he said, spying the sign for Angel’s Pass ahead on the road.
After agreeing to babysit Maurice’s German Shepherd for the weekend, Milan had decided that his apartment wasn’t dog-friendly and what both he and Kurosawa needed was to leave the city and have a nice vacation in the woods.
After all, he hadn’t checked on Pioneer Lodge, the cabin his grandfather had built when he moved to the Cascades, in a while—almost ten years to be exact. It was time he went back and took care of business personally instead of remotely hiring handymen and housekeeping agencies. Also, it would be better to drive to Angel’s Pass while the pass was still open. In a month, several feet of snow would cover the entire ridge, and it wouldn’t be possible to reach the village until the next Spring.
He gave himself all sorts of explanations for wanting to go back to Angel’s Pass, but deep inside, he felt this driving need to get in his Jeep and visit the place once again. The truth is, he had to go. Milan wasn’t good with introspection and didn’t even try to understand his sudden compulsion to do something he had avoided like the plague for years. Maybe it was a need for closure. Who knew? He had been accused of worse feelings.
Angel’s Pass appeared from behind the bend as he climbed Wild Flower Ridge. A sense of peace filled Milan at the sight of the small werewolf community. The biggest betrayal of his life had happened there, and he hadn’t come back in years, but the pull of his roots was stronger than any resentment he could feel toward the people he had left behind.
“Home sweet home,” he whispered, waving at the postman, who waved back.
“Milan!” the man called, smiling. Surprise registered on his face, but the pleasure to see Milan was sincere.
“Ross!” Milan couldn’t help but smile back.
Within five minutes, the rest of the Sunrise Pack would know the prodigal son had finally come home. He wouldn’t be surprised if, by the time he reached Pioneer Lodge, he found food safely stowed under the porch steps.
He drove across town, filling his eyes with the sight of the streets and alleys that had seen him grow from a toddler into an unruly youth.
The pharmacy was still there, with the striped barber pole proudly hanging side by side with the tarot card sign. Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus covered several important roles in the community, and every citizen of Angel’s Pass used their services daily, be it a love potion, a remedy for a headache, a haircut and shave, or just a good-old talk.
Mrs. Reddings, the librarian, sat outside the small cottage filled to the brim with books. She waved at Milan as she reached for her cell phone. No doubt she would spread the news of his arrival to her friends who lived at the edge of town and might otherwise miss out on the gossip.
The bakery was about to close, but when Mr. Grange spotted Milan slowing to a halt in front of his shop, he opened the door, inviting him in.
“Long time no see, Milan,” Mr. Grange said. There wasn’t any hint of irony in his statement.
That was the beauty about a small-knit community, even if one left for a decade, once he was back, it was as if he had never left. Milan missed that.
“Are you going to stay this time?”
“Just for the weekend,” Milan answered, eyeing the loaves of bread behind the counter. “Three of those, and do you have any of your wife’s cherry pies left?”
Mr. Grange looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “Nothing left. The missus went to clean up the cottage and didn’t have time to bake another batch.” He rubbed his chin. “A young lady from Dallas rented it for the weekend—” He stretched the pause long enough to make his meaning clear, but when Milan didn’t take the bait, he said, “The missus said the girl is nice. Maybe we could introduce her to you.”
Milan couldn’t help but inwardly groan. There was no escaping the matchmaking nowadays. “No, thank you. I’m here to relax with my buddy Kurosawa.” He pointed at his Jeep. The big German Shepherd rose on his front legs when Milan mentioned him, tail wagging and tongue lolling as he tilted his head.
Mr. Grange added a dog treat to the bag he handed Milan from over the counter. “You might meet this young lady anyway,” he said. “Be nice to her if you do. We want to maintain Angel’s Pass’s excellent Yelp ratings,” he added with a wink.
“I promise that if I meet this lady, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” Milan grabbed the bag and turned to leave.
“You, a perfect gentleman? That, I want to see.” Mr. Grange chuckled before his expression turned somber. “Your cousin will be happy to see you.”
Milan’s jaw clenched, and a vein might have popped had he allowed his anger to show. Instead, he said, “Kurosawa and I have plans to go fly fishing up at Silver Lake. I’m stopping for groceries, and we’ll be on our way.”
Mr. Grange’s pensive gaze followed him outside.
Milan raised his eyes to the clear sky and shook his head. Maybe he should’ve bought groceries before entering Angel’s Pass and driven straight to his cottage in the forest.
4
The loud ring of Celeste’s cell phone startled her as she was taking the most luxuriously decadent bath she’d ever had.
She had discovered that the small en-suite bathroom had one of those old tubs with balled claw feet and copper spouts. It had been love at first sight. After devouring half of the cherry pie Mrs. Grange baked for her, Celeste had filled the tub with scalding hot water, dropped the bath salts courtesy of the house, and lowered herself into the steamy tub.
Not wanting to leave the warm embrace of the scented water, Celeste let the call go to voicemail. Whoever wanted to talk to her could wait. When blissful silence filled the air, she sank lower into the tub and closed her eyes.
The image of a strong man appeared in her mind. Not a vague thought of a generic man, but a well-defined picture of a strapping werewolf in his early thirties. An alpha built like a mountain man, one of those rugged individuals who cut trees and climbed impervious peaks for fun. Wearing a checkered flannel shirt in blue and gray, the handsome stranger smiled at her, showing the most endearing dimples on a face that had seen its fair share of bar fights. The crocked nose, though, only added to the charm. His dark eyes shone with a bright light as if he knew a good joke.
As the image had formed, so it disappeared when her cell phone rang again, leaving Celeste strangely bereft.
Unnerved, she climbed out of the tub, grabbed the plush towel from the wall hook, and reached for the still-ringing cell phone sitting on the vanity table at the corner of the bathroom.
One look at the caller confirmed it was Julia. Nobody else would be as insistent as her friend.
“Hi, Julia,” Celeste said, sitting on the edge of the tub.
“So, have you already met him?” her friend gushed, sounding slightly tipsy.
Celeste eyed the time on the screen, then remembered that it was later in Dallas, where Friday night celebrations were in full swing already.
“If I had met him, I wouldn’t be answering calls from drunk friends, would I?” She toweled her legs dry with her free hand.
“You’re right.” Julia sighed. “It’s just that I miss you already and wanted to know how you are.”
“Miss you too, and I’m having a grand time, actually. The village is adorable, and the cottage is straight out of a fairy tale. The landlady even baked a pie for me. Can you believe it?”
“It sounds really nice. And the weather? Is it as
horrible as they say?”
“Just a drizzle, nothing terrible,” Celeste said. “And I like it. Everything is green and smells clean around here.”
“You’re not going to move there, are you?” Julia’s shriek resonated loud and clear and made Celeste laugh.
“You’ve got me. That’s the plan. I meet the man of my dreams, move to a mountain cabin, and we live happily ever after,” Celeste said.
“It doesn’t sound half bad,” Julia commented.
Celeste had said it in jest, but Julia was right. “No, it honestly doesn’t, but calm your tits, it’s not going to happen.” Those kinds of happy endings only happened in romantic movies, never in real life.
“Mark just arrived, talk to you later,” Julia whispered. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Celeste said. She wanted to add, “Be careful with Mark,” but Julia had already hung up.
Celeste had tried to talk Julia out of dating the sleazy stockbroker who had picked her up at a dive bar a few months ago. At first, Mark had tried his best lines on Celeste, and when he realized nothing would come of his pathetic attempts, he turned his focus to Julia. Even though Mark and Julia had been dating ever since, he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to give Celeste a thorough once over any time they were in the same room, sometimes even when Julia was present. Celeste had warned her friend that Mark was a player, but Julia was blind where the guy was concerned.
Even though Mark didn’t seem the violent type, yet, the comparison between the Royce of the early days and Mark was an easy one to make. Celeste couldn’t understand how her friend didn’t see it. Accidentally, the strange feeling of being followed had become more pronounced after Mark entered their lives. Coincidence? Or just frayed nerves?
Celeste’s mood turned sour. She dipped a finger into the tub, but the water was now lukewarm, and she had lost her enthusiasm. Maybe a walk before dinner would do her good.
Paranormal Dating Agency: Her Dream Alpha (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Angel's Pass Wolves Book 1) Page 2
