by Cecy Robson
We’d had a smackdown with the local witches when we first moved to Tahoe. I didn’t trust them. I didn’t like them. And I sure as hell didn’t want them touching me. I shook my head. “No. That’s okay. I can wait.”
Aric frowned. “I can’t leave you like this. It’s either magic or I take you to the emergency room.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip again, but it still tasted nasty. I so needed a shower. “I’ll be fine, Aric. I know another healer. She’ll take care of me.”
Aric tapped his palm against the steering wheel, his face shadowed with concern. “The head witch is the only healing witch within two states. I don’t think you should trust just anyone to touch you.”
“She’s not a witch. She’s my sister.” I smiled softly. “And I trust her with my life.”
Aric’s brows softened with understanding. “Okay, but don’t get out of the car without my help.”
Aric opened my door in the time it took me to adjust my hips. I thought he would just hold my arm and assist me with my balance. I didn’t expect him to sweep me into his arms, carry me up the drive, and place me on the ground. It happened so fast I barely blinked, yet his divine heat lingered even after my feet touched the cold, soft lawn.
My toes squirmed against the grass. “Uh, thanks for the ride and everything.”
“You’re welcome.” Aric crossed his arms and circled me to examine my shoulder. “I can pop your arm back into place. It will hurt, but at least it will help your sister in healing you.”
Emme could realign bones, but I wasn’t sure she was strong enough to shove my upper arm back into the socket. And I sure didn’t want Taran experimenting. “Have you done this before?”
Aric nodded. “Fairly frequently. Our young wolves like to roughhouse. Learning to realign bones prevents them from mending incorrectly, since our healing ability is so fast.” He shrugged. “Otherwise we’d have to rebreak their bones every time they got hurt.”
I didn’t know Aric. Not really. But for some odd reason, I trusted him. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”
And that’s when Aric took off his shirt.
The soft fabric skimmed over perfectly golden skin and rock-hard abdominals tight enough to launch a brick into orbit. A whisper of hair traveled the length of his belly button to where his jeans hung low on his hips.
Holy…
Aric stopped removing his shirt when he pulled it just above his small, erect nipples. This wasn’t real. This was some kind of Hollywood hottie video shoot on TV and all I wanted to do was hit pause.
“What’s wrong, Celia?” he asked.
I whipped around to face Mrs. Mancuso’s house, mortified to be actually gawking and possibly drooling.
I focused hard on Mancuso’s lawn jockey. It was forty freaking degrees and the breeze from the lake had picked up. I should have been cold, but Aric and his eight-pack warmed my core just fine and dandy. “Wha-what are you doing?” I managed to stammer, whereas my tigress insisted I should shut the hell up, turn back around, and enjoy the show.
Aric edged his way around to face me, removing and twisting his shirt around his neck with each step before fully slipping it on backwards to the clean side. “I have to hold you against me in order to adjust your shoulder. There’s blood all over the front of my shirt. I didn’t want to get any on you,” he explained.
“Thanks,” I said a little too high-pitched for my normally husky voice. “I appreciate that.”
Aric quirked a brow, but when he inhaled my scent his eyes widened with surprise. He was silent for several seconds before gesturing to my arm. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
There were many, many things I wanted Aric to do, and none of them pertained to my busted shoulder. Yowza. I needed to take a cold shower, and possibly invest in electronic devices.
“Celia?”
Right. I focused on the pain and hoped I wouldn’t go down like a wimp. I nodded and closed my eyes. “Go ahead.”
Aric’s strong arms wrapped me in a bear hug, his contact hard and gentle all at once. For the second time that night, his body heat encased me. My face fell against his muscular chest. My God, the aromatic blend of his scent mixed with musk from battle drove my tigress insane. Don’t purr. Don’t purr. Oh, Jesus, please don’t let me purr.
Aric’s voice tightened. “Your heart’s racing….”
“S’okay.”
“Brace yourself. This is going to hurt like a mother.”
Aric didn’t lie. There was a brief crunching sound when he rammed my limb back in place. I thought he’d snapped my spine. A thousand blades stabbed at every nerve in my neck, arm, and shoulder. My head flew back and my back arched. I didn’t cry or whimper, but damn, did I want to. Aric held me tight.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That was a bad idea.”
I pumped the fingers of my right hand. It remained sore, but I could manipulate it. “No. This is better,” I said between breaths.
Aric released me and stepped back, his jaw clenched tight enough to shatter Mrs. Mancuso’s lawn gnome.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Aric shook his head. “No. You’re not. You shouldn’t have been out there tonight, Celia.”
My head snapped up.
Aric stared hard at the ground. “Look, something is coming. Something severe enough to threaten every life in the area. I’d like you to leave town for a while.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I can’t just leave, Aric. This is my home; my life is here.”
Anger flared in Aric’s eyes. “I can’t explain what’s happening. But if you stay, you might get hurt.”
I motioned to my shoulder. “It’s too late for that, wolf.”
“Celia—”
“You don’t know me, Aric. But there’s something about me you should.” I straightened to my full height. “I don’t just run because someone tells me to.”
I stormed up my front steps and unlocked the door, not bothering to turn around.
Every part of me sensed Aric watching me. In the reflection of the glass pane on the door, I looked upon the almost full moon. Aric was wrong. I knew what was coming. I’d seen the aftermath in the alley and I could feel the darkness as it dug its way through my skin. Tahoe was in jeopardy.
Decision time had arrived.
CHAPTER 9
I finger-combed my wet curls as I walked into my kitchen to prepare some tea, lamenting how I ended things with Aric. Good Lord, what a night. I’d been waiting to see him. Dreaming of speaking to him. Wanting to spend time with him. Dead bodies and alley brawls aside, my wishes had come true. Only to leave me back where I started, wondering if I’d ever see him again.
While I hadn’t liked him ordering me around, he’d helped me and kept me safe. And yet my temper prevented me from wishing him so much as a good night. Nice, Celia.
A sound like a half knock drew me toward the door. I growled in anticipation of another paparazzo. My heart just about stopped when I opened the door and saw Aric leaving my porch. He froze at the bottom of the steps before sighing and glancing in my direction. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I looked toward the driveway, where his Escalade remained parked. “Have you been here this whole time?”
“No. I left and came back.” He motioned toward my shoulder. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
I adjusted the belt around my thick cotton robe. I was all about dressing to impress. “W-would you like to join me?” I pointed behind me. “Inside, I mean. I’m making tea. Hot tea.” I grimaced. Behold my magnificent sentence structure and charm. Envy me!
Aric’s smirk set my already pink cheeks on fire. He spared me by not laughing as he jogged up the steps and wiped his feet on the mat. He paused. “Maybe we should drink your tea outside. I don’t want to mess up your house.”
Most of Aric’s clothes remained splattered with blood. But I wanted him to feel welcome, especially after leaving on such a sour not
e. “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably dry by now.”
Aric smiled. “You sure?”
I swallowed hard. God, I loved that grin. “Yes. Please have a seat.”
Aric crossed the dark wood floors into our large open family room. Aside from my bedroom, it was my favorite room in the house. The walls were a light sage and the trim was white. Black-and-white nature photographs that Shayna had snapped hung in silver frames on one wall. The opposite wall had a brick fireplace at its center flanked by built-in cabinets that held books and our small TV.
Aric carefully lowered himself onto our cream-colored sofa as I started the gas fireplace. “This is nice.”
“Thank you.” I paused to watch him lean forward and rest his powerful arms against his legs. His long hair fell over his brows, but did nothing to shadow the intensity of his eyes. I opened my mouth, then shut it, slightly stupefied that the male who’d occupied my every waking thought sat in my home, on my couch, because he wanted to ensure I remained safe. I wanted to say something witty, smart, charming—
“Is something wrong?”
I jumped. “Nope. I’ll be right back with your…stuff.” If I thought he wouldn’t have heard me, I would have beaten my head against the nearest wall. I returned to the kitchen and tried to relax.
“Do you live here on your own?”
“Um. No. My three sisters and I bought the house together.” I placed wheat rolls Emme had made on the tray along with pieces of butter I quickly cut into flower shapes.
“There’re four of you?”
I paused in the middle of filling the second mug with tea. The way Aric emphasized the word “four” I knew he meant something more. I returned to the family room with the tray and placed it on our large wooden coffee table. I sat on the love seat angled next to the sofa. “There’s only one of me.” I lifted my mug to my lips, trying to keep my tone light. “My sisters don’t share my powers.”
Aric watched me closely, waiting, I suspected, for me to elaborate. When I didn’t, he didn’t push me. I smiled. He was kind. But I owed it to my sisters not to disclose too much. He sniffed at the mug. “What is this?”
“Chai.” I chuckled when he blinked back at me. “It’s a tea made with spices, honey, and milk.”
He sipped it carefully. “Mmm. It’s good. Real good.” He took several long sips before his tongue swept over his top lip. “I like it.”
I stared at his mouth, wondering how soft his lips were and how good they would taste. A slow, sexy grin inched its way along his strong, stubbled jaw. His eyes sparkled as they met mine. I couldn’t remember how to breathe. “I really like it,” he murmured once more.
Say something. Anything. Tell him you love him and want to have his puppies. “Haven’t you ever had tea before?”
Shit.
Aric gave me a hard stare. “Real werewolves don’t drink tea.”
I threw back my head and laughed, only to wince when pain rumbled into my shoulder.
Aric came to my side, taking my mug and placing it on the table. He straightened my arm. “Maybe I can help.” His fingers massaged me through the thick cotton of my robe, edging their way slowly up my arm to my shoulder. My breath caught. Aric’s touch electrified me. His voice lowered in pitch. “Tell me if I’m being too rough.”
My heart pounded in my ears as his fingers pressed and swept over my sore muscles. But then I became aware of an added heartbeat.
His.
I watched his hands move along my arm, a deep heat building between us. My chest ached from lack of breath.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Try to relax, Celia. I promise not to hurt you.”
Visions of hearing his words whispered in the dark spun in my mind. I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to breathe. Slowly, oh, so slowly, my body began to accept his touch. My head fell back; I was hypnotized by the tremendous comfort he brought me. A purr mixed with a soft moan escaped my lips. Aric froze.
And that’s when I realized the side of my robe had fallen open.
Aric bolted upright as I jumped and yanked it closed. “Sorry—sorry.” He backed away, his breath hard and fast. “I should…go.” He rushed out, pausing at the door, but failing to look back at me. “Don’t forget what I said. You and your family will be safer if you leave Tahoe tonight.”
I watched the door shut behind him, slumping onto the couch when he started his Escalade seconds later. I opened my robe and stared at the girls, mortified and convinced the universe hated me. If he had to see my breasts, why couldn’t it have been the perkier of the two?
I groaned as the phone rang, covering up when I saw who called.
“Hi, Misha,” I said before he spoke.
My sisters ambled in less than ten minutes later. I disconnected my call, surprised they were alone and lacking the smiles I would have expected after spending time with a sultry pack of wolves.
Taran tossed her purse aside and flopped onto the couch next to me. “Shit, Ceel. Where the hell have you been? Misha’s staff has been calling us nonstop.”
Emme and Shayna knelt in front of me. Emme placed her hand on my knee. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you since you walked out of The Hole. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“It sort of got damaged.” I frowned. “I sent you a text, Emme. Didn’t you get it?”
Emme shook her head. “I’m sorry, Celia. My battery was low. I left my phone charging upstairs.”
“Okay. But never mind me; what happened with your wolves?”
Shayna grinned, but her smile lacked its typical glee. “Dude, Koda and his friends rushed out of the club shortly after you did.”
My eyes widened although I probably knew the reason. “They did?”
Shayna nodded. “Koda got a call while we were slow dancing. It was strange; a moon appeared on the screen, but he didn’t answer it. He just grabbed Liam and Gemini and they took off.” She shrugged. “I thought maybe he liked me, but he didn’t even bother to say good-bye.”
At least he didn’t run off at the sight of your boobs.
Emme crinkled her nose. “Did you call Bren? He’s been worried. Especially once he realized Misha’s vampires were trying to find you.”
“Ah. No.”
Taran wiped the mascara beneath her eyes with her fingertips, then gestured to the cordless phone in my hand. “Then who were you on the phone with?”
“Misha. I’m going to help him kill Zhahara.”
My comment hit Taran like a physical slap. Her blue eyes fired with anger as her head whipped toward me. “Like hell you are!”
I let out a breath. “Taran, I just got off the phone with Misha. Bloodlust is spreading like fire. He’s been forced to kill again.”
“Well, sucks to be him.”
I shook my head. “You don’t get it.”
Taran jumped to her feet. “I don’t have to get it. This is bullshit!”
I rose and slipped off my cozy bathrobe, revealing the bruises to my shoulder, arms, and back. My entire right side resembled the continent of South America, each contusion highlighting a different country. My sisters screamed. Loudly. Emme stumbled to her feet in her rush to heal me.
“Oh, my goodness. What happened to you?”
“I found the big, bad wolf.”
Emme screamed again. “Your boyfriend did this to you?”
I sighed. “No, Emme. His students did.” And he’s not my boyfriend…but I wish he could be.
I explained everything after Emme healed me, leaving the flashing-the-werewolf part out.
Taran paced back and forth across our wood floor. “Look. I’m sorry about those women and all. That seriously has to be the worst way to die. But your wolf has a point. This is so not our problem.”
“He’s not my wolf.” I stared at my fingertips. I had to scrub them to get all the blood off. “And that blonde…God, she looked so much like you, Emme.” My heart clenched as I remembered. “She could have been you.”
Shayna clasped her hands over her mouth.
Taran swallowed hard. And Emme—poor Emme—didn’t move.
“I’m going to Misha’s house tonight. I was just waiting for you to get home.”
Taran’s leopard stilettos tapped the wood floor until she met me face-to-face. “Not without us you’re not.”
I suspected Misha was rich, like all master vampires, but when we pulled onto his property, I didn’t expect to drive almost a mile just to reach the front gates.
“Damn,” Taran muttered when I finally stopped our Subaru.
The exterior of the massive compound appeared to be surrounded by a tall stone wall. Gargoyle heads protruded randomly from the barricade. Their snouts spewed water, but in the darkness they appeared to drip blood. I could barely see the house from where we waited; the trees lining the driveway blocked my view. Maybe it was the gargoyles or the thickening clouds overhead, but I suddenly had second thoughts.
I cracked my window, hoping for an intercom so I wouldn’t have to leave the safety of the car. I scented two vampires. One of them eyed us suspiciously through my window. The other assumed a stance directly behind our SUV. If he thought I wouldn’t run him over, he was wrong.
“State your business,” the vampire to my left spat.
“Hey, dude,” Shayna greeted him from the backseat. “We’re here to see Misha. He invited us over.”
This made the vampire smile. “For dinner?”
This was not the night to piss me off. I rolled my window completely down and yanked the idiot closer—by his throat. “No, we’re here to help save your master’s life,” I snapped. “So either you open the gate or you explain to Misha why you’re missing your arms and your buddy has my tire marks running up his chest.”
“Let them through,” a disembodied voice commanded. I realized the gargoyles were more than decorative features. Someone watched us from strategically placed surveillance cameras in each.
I released my grip on the vampire’s neck. He hissed threateningly, but stepped back to let us pass. “Pansy-ass bastard!” Taran yelled as we drove through the gate.
