The Mating Game: Werewolves of Montana Book 8

by Bonnie Vanak

  Rose and violet light streaked the sky as he stepped outside. At last, the darkness he’d felt had lifted a little. Cool air caressed his face as he headed for the grassy meadow where the wizards called upon the goddess. Xavier began to climb the mossy pathway leading to the meadow, up the mountain. Strewn along the pathway were fallen logs and dead leaves, damp with raindrops.

  No, not raindrops, for it never rained here. Xavier frowned as he bent over to examine a leaf.

  Teardrops. His tears. Here in his home world, they turned to rain.

  He climbed until the pathway came to a dead end at a silvery waterfall spilling down granite rocks. A sheer cliff rose hundreds of feet upward into the clear, blue sky, its mossy, slick surfaces forbidding access to all. To the left of the waterfall was a stone pathway.

  Trees tipped with silver, white, crimson, and gray leaves flanked the waterfall. Each color leaf represented the wizards of the Brehon.

  Xavier went to the tree bearing white-tipped leaves and touched the trunk, tracing an ancient rune. The waterfall ceased flowing, and the mossy cliff parted, showing the shadowy entrance to a deep cave.

  Walking on the pathway behind the waterfall, he entered the cave. It was cool and glittered with thousands of crystals.

  Tristan had told him when he’d entered the cave to become the Silver Wizard, it had been lined with silver.

  Xavier finally reached the end of the cave and stepped into the sunlight and a grassy meadow. Birds of every color and size flew among trees filled with fresh fruit.

  The meadow boasted a supreme view of jagged mountains, brilliant splashes of gold, crimson, and sienna leaves. A stone circle, embedded with runes, sat in the meadow’s center. He went there, knelt upon the flat stone in the middle, and waited.

  As he knelt, all went silent. Even the birds no longer sang.

  Motionless, he remained, centering his thoughts, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Xavier, my Crystal Wizard,” a soft voice spoke in the hushed silence. “You seek me.”

  “I do, my lady Danu. I ask an audience with you.”

  “Rise, Xavier.” Her voice was sweet and high, the music of the earth.

  Opening his eyes, he stood. Danu, the earth goddess who had created the race of Others, stood inside the circle in a pool of white light. Clad in a forest-green gown, she was breathtaking to behold. Even he, with his powers, found it difficult to gaze upon her beauty.

  A nimbus of red-gold hair flowed down past her hips. He dared to lift his gaze and glance at her brilliant, green eyes. Xavier dropped his gaze respectfully.

  “I have come to beg a favor.”

  “I know,” she said kindly.

  He glanced at her and saw a crystal ball appear in her outstretched palm. It spun around like a child’s top. The same crystal had granted his immorality and his powers when he’d ascended to the position of the Crystal Wizard.

  He dared to ask the question foremost on his mind. “Is Ciara here in Tir Na-nog?”

  Danu stroked a finger over the crystal ball. “Yes, but she is forbidden to you. Her spirit has other tasks to perform.”

  He could not see her in either world. The tightness in his chest increased.

  “Did she…suffer?”

  The goddess regarded him with a thoughtful look. “No. Her death was quick and painless.”

  He could be grateful for that at least.

  “What is the boon you ask, Xavier?”

  “I cannot take the pain anymore,” he whispered. “I cannot function or perform my duties. I loved Ciara and watched her die. Erase my memories of her.”

  “Are you certain?” The goddess tilted her head, and the crystal globe spun faster above her palm. “Your memories make you, Xavier. Of all my wizards, your memories have shaped you the most. You hold to them with fierceness, doing everything in your power to bring justice to Earthers.”

  “Please. If I cannot be with Ciara, hear her laughter once more, I do not wish it to echo in my mind, reminding me of innocence lost.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “But if you meet her again, you will have no memory of Ciara.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Danu smiled. “You were once impulsive and brash, Xavier. You have turned into a compassionate, courageous wizard, a good guardian of your people. I know the price you paid in eradicating Earthers who turned to evil during the war and watching your people suffer dreadfully. I shall grant your request.”

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  “It will be very painful for you. You have such powerful emotions and memories. Are you prepared to suffer their loss?”

  He nodded.

  Then there was no time to think or breathe, for she flicked her fingers and the crystal globe sailed through the air, encasing him in an opaque mist. He gasped for air, his head squeezing painfully as if someone had driven a rail spike into his skull.

  “Do not fight it, Xavier. The more you hold on, the more it will hurt,” a disembodied voice said.

  Then he surrendered to the grayish shadows dancing on the edge of his vision. As he started to collapse, his last thought was of Ciara and her smile. Then, amid the knifelike pain slicing through his head, the image of Ciara winked out, and he was glad of it.

  For the memory of watching her bright life snuff out was far more painful to bear.

  Part II

  Florida 2016

  4

  Xavier, the Crystal Wizard, never took his duties lightly.

  Especially when it came to sex. And this particular responsibility called for discretion, discernment, and a great deal of wisdom.

  Xavier drove westbound on a ribbon of highway stretching across Florida. His red 1964 Mustang convertible was sweet, purring like a kitten. Tunes from the 1950s played on the radio.

  Humming, he tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to “Book of Love.”

  “You are stuck in the past,” Gideon had once accused him.

  Yeah, I am. The fifties was a great era. He liked the innocence and carefreeness of that decade.

  He ruled over Ogres, Trolls, Gremlins, Gnomes, and other Earthers. He was the youngest wizard on the council of Brehon, and the one who found it most difficult to let go of the past.

  A well-trimmed, dark beard shadowed his square jawline. His dark hair curled at the edges, each strand tipped with a shiny, white crystal only Others could see. His eyes were a clear gray-blue, except when his powers surged. Then they turned white.

  Tristan, the Silver Wizard, once told him when that happened, he looked scarier than a Troll on crack cocaine.

  Tristan had an odd sense of humor. Xavier liked him. Tristan called him X and was friendly and more relaxed than Gideon, the Crimson Wizard. Gideon was older and jaded.

  Cadeyrn, the Shadow Wizard, was his closest friend. The Shadow Wizard tolerated Tristan and Gideon, but each time Xavier played a prank or wore flashy clothing, it coaxed a smile to the grim wizard’s face.

  Tristan had told Xavier they made an unlikely pair of friends. “You’re such a youth, and Cadeyrn is so ancient. It’s like a friendship between a CEO of a restaurant chain and a burger flipper.”

  For that remark, Xavier had dumped a truckload of greasy hamburgers inside Tristan’s living room.

  Xavier flicked a finger at the radio, and the station changed to Malt Shop Oldies. His thoughts drifted.

  He was headed to Florida’s west coast to aid a lost Nymph. Nymphs were the bane of his existence. Gideon, ruler of the Fae, thought Xavier’s charges such as Trolls and Gnomes were the most troublesome, but they were not. Since he’d cleaned house of evil Earthers during World War II, most now were quiet and peaceful, except when stirred up by the need to mate or they feuded over territory.

  Nymphs, on the other hand, were his biggest challenge. They were high maintenance and mischievous. They were so time-consuming that when he became the Crystal Wizard more than seven hundred years ago, the goddess Danu had handed him the responsibility to
relieve Gideon from the burden.

  Nymphs lived in forest glades or near mountain streams of clear, running water or lakes. They were creatures of nature, protectors of the earth.

  But once in a while, one or two got into very big trouble. Usually it happened when they went into heat. Then they emitted pheromones so powerful that even Skins could not resist them.

  Their sexual allure caused fights, and nymphs sought out testosterone-laden males who were very bad for them, males who could relieve their burning need for sex. But few males could withstand the marathon rounds of sex Nymphs required during their heat.

  Fortunately, Nymphs usually went into heat once a year. And Xavier had solved the sex problem by arranging for unmated male shifters to service them, with the required birth control. Tristan had been only too happy to find groups of wolf, cougar, and even bear shifters for the sessions.

  All had been peaceful, until now.

  A young Nymph had turned twenty-one and was coming into her first heat, and no one had told her about the mating service. She’d caused a stir at a Florida horse ranch when ten cowhands had spotted and chased after her.

  Through his special powers, he’d been alerted that the startled and frightened female had caused the trees to drop vines and tie up the cowboys, leaving them in the burning sun. Xavier had found the cowboys and released them, erasing their memories before he vanished.

  Xavier rubbed a hand over his bearded cheek. He had to find the Nymph and pair her with a healthy, virile male for her first coupling, or she’d be ruined for life.

  Ciara. He said the name aloud, wondering why his chest ached as he said it.

  He felt a tingle race down his spine, a surge of power that warned one of his fellow wizards was arriving. With a whoosh of air, Tristan appeared, riding shotgun beside him. In his customary black tunic, black pants, and soft, doeskin boots, the wizard looked at the car with appreciation.

  “Nice toy. Sweet,” the Silver Wizard remarked. “Fully restored, red leather seats, red dash, and shiny, red steering wheel. I’m impressed, X. It proves you actually have taste.”

  Not taking his eyes off the road, Xavier flipped him the finger.

  Tristan started to put his feet upon the dashboard. Xavier scowled. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I should, for it took me a week to get the smell of greasy hamburgers out of my home. Are you certain you wish to take this assignment?”

  Xavier glanced at him. “We already discussed this. Ciara is my responsibility. Not yours.”

  “She is both of ours, my friend. She is both cougar and nymph.”

  “With a touch of witch blood,” Xavier put in.

  “True. But she is mostly half-cougar and half-Nymph. So what half do you wish to take charge of? The bottom half or the top half?” the Silver Wizard asked.

  “Fuck you.”

  “No thank you. You are not my type.” Tristan leaned back.

  Xavier turned his head, deeply curious. “Do you have regrets about falling in love with Nikita? Even though you have waited centuries to find her?”

  “No regrets.”

  “Good luck, my friend. I mean this most sincerely.” Xavier sighed, feeling a pinch of regret. “I have no desire to fall in love.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” He thought of Andromeda, the shapeshifter who had betrayed him shortly after he became the immortal Crystal Wizard. He had become smitten with the lovely Lupine, and suspected he’d known her in his mortal life. Andromeda was quite lovely.

  I’ve always been susceptible to beauty.

  “I learned my lesson with Andromeda. Love is best left for mortals.”

  “Andromeda was not the woman for you, X.”

  “I know. But there will never be another woman for me.” Xavier rubbed his chest, wondering why his heart hurt.

  Tristan gave him a sly smile. “Never say never.”

  He frowned. “Why are you looking so smug?”

  “Nothing. I must be off. Remember this, X. The past is not always as you remember.”

  As he flicked his gaze over to Tristan, the wizard gave him a nod and vanished.

  Cryptic. But Tristan was a jokester, and half the time Xavier wasn’t certain if his friend was serious.

  Halfway across the state, he came to a boat launch for fishermen who wanted to access the Everglades through a wide canal. Internal senses alerted him to the Nymph’s trail. Xavier pulled into the deserted parking lot and cut the engine.

  Jingling the keys in one hand, he stepped out of the car. A tremendous wave of sullen heat slammed into him like a tidal wave. Xavier automatically lowered his body temperature to cope. An egret flew overhead, and a crow called in the distance. Nothing else.

  Allowing his powers to surge, he scanned the area to better see Ciara’s energy trail. All Others had auras, and the wizards of the Brehon could easily spot them. Ciara’s was a muted pink, turning into dusky rose to indicate her sexual state.

  There. As clear as a black line on tawny sand was a pinkish-rose trail, festooned by sparkling glitter, leading to the embankment of the canal. Another challenge with Nymphs. They preferred remaining in their close-knit colonies, but when they left, they could ride the wind by turning themselves into dandelion wisps. Their shapeshifting magick worked as long as there was water nearby, but the method of travel proved bothersome, as now Nymphs could materialize closer to Skin developments, risking exposure.

  Still jingling the keys, he followed the glittering line. As the aura trail grew stronger, indicating he was close, Xavier began to whistle a tune, not wishing to startle her.

  He heard soft footfalls, grass and dirt moving. Didn’t work. She’d moved off.

  Reaching the end of the parking lot, he threaded through the thick growth of saw palmetto and scrub, turning his corporeal body into silent mist. Gideon had taught him this handy trick soon after Xavier had become the Crystal Wizard. It proved an excellent method for approaching his subjects without alerting them to his presence.

  There, on the canal bank. A blond girl sat on the embankment in the lotus position, staring at the water. Xavier materialized into his Skin form again. He’d chosen a navy-blue business suit, with a powder-blue shirt, open at the throat, and shiny penny loafers, reasoning that if he looked like a businessman, he’d look less threatening to the nymph.

  He cleared his throat to alert her.

  Looking up, she gave a little gasp and folded her arms over her breasts.

  She was naked. Xavier took a deep breath. This was another reason why Nymphs were trouble. Especially during their first heat, when they didn’t understand the power of their sexuality.

  “You’re the Crystal Wizard.” Ciara hugged herself and stared but, to her credit, did not run away.

  He blinked in surprise that she did not find him threatening. Even Skins found him intimidating. When you were a male, standing about six feet, five inches, people didn’t mess with you.

  Another reason he’d become the Crystal Wizard. His mere physical presence was enough to frighten those under his care into obedience. Ogres especially could become quite aggressive and hostile, risking exposure to the Skin world.

  But in this case, he didn’t want to intimidate.

  Xavier shoved his hands into his pockets to demonstrate he didn’t plan to point a finger and turn her into ash. He offered a friendly smile. “Hi there. I understand you had a little problem at the White Horse Ranch.”

  Though he kept his tone neutral, inside he struggled to control a swift wave of pure lust. Ciara had skin that looked soft, with golden curls spilling down the slope of her bare back, a round, sweet face tipped with a pert nose, and high, aristocratic cheekbones. Forest-green eyes stared at him. He found himself studying her full, lush mouth.

  “Are you here to punish me?” she asked in a small voice.

  Her voice was low and breathless, the musical tinkle of wind chimes touched by a gentle breeze. It carried notes of sultry, sensual abandon, threaded through with
sweet innocence. Such an intoxicating sound, he wanted to stand here and listen to her speak.

  He cleared his throat again. “No. I’m here to help you. But first…”

  Drawing close, he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It enfolded her like a blanket. She was a tiny creature, and he found himself softening toward her. He wondered why she seemed so familiar. Déjà vu?

  He frowned. He held all his memories close. Surely he would remember meeting her, even if her face and features did not stand out in any remarkable way.

  Careful, he warned himself. You’re here to guide her. Be impartial. A wizard of the Brehon could never get personally involved with his charges.

  Ciara stared at him. “You are a powerful being, just as my sisters warned.”

  “I am,” he agreed. Xavier sat on the embankment next to her. “I am here to help you through your first heat and find you the right sexual partner.”

  She clasped the jacket with her hands. Her fingers were long and elegant. Upon the ring finger of her left hand, she wore a wide, silver band with a Celtic heart. Seeing the ring made his throat close tight, though he did not know why.

  “I had hoped this would not happen to me. I’m stuck between two worlds. I heard about the mating heat of Nymphs. My father thought I’d end up more panther than Nymph, but I cannot shift. I can turn into a dandelion wisp and float on the air, but that doesn’t impress panthers, except they do like playing with me when I’m in that form, batting me about like a balloon.”

  At her wry grin, he chuckled.

  Then her smile dropped. “Even the powerful wizards of the Brehon do not claim me, for I am not fully a shifter, like the Silver Wizard’s charges, nor Nymph, to come under your guidance.”

  And I have sorely neglected you, thinking perhaps you would end up as a shifter as well and be Tristan’s charge. A tiny blip of guilt winked inside him.

  It had been centuries since he’d felt such an emotion. Xavier examined it with startled curiosity.

  He shrugged it off. Ciara’s needs came first.

  “I am here now, and consider me your guardian when you need me.”