The Mating Game: Werewolves of Montana Book 8

by Bonnie Vanak

  Xavier stroked a line down her bare arm, evoking a shiver from her. “The ability to read minds, telekinesis, and many other talents. I obtained a great deal of wealth by offering my services to noblemen. My mind grew stronger, but my spirit grew darker. I had heard strange noises coming from the lab where Duncan conducted his research but chose to close my ears to those noises.”

  He didn’t want to talk about what happened next. But Ciara was different. She truly wanted to know, and she was honest and kind.

  He took a deep breath. “I turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to Duncan’s dark nature so I could enjoy the power he gave me. And finally one day, I heard such a scream that I could not ignore.”

  Xavier’s heart wrenched, as he remembered the piercing anguish in those cries.

  “I rushed into the cave where Duncan said he conducted his experiments. The cages were foul with excrement and urine, and Ogres were being tortured and then killed.”

  Ciara gasped and grew pale. “That’s horrid.”

  He hated telling this story. Some details were fuzzy and not because he had lived so long. He often thought it was because of the torture Duncan had inflicted upon him. “I freed them, but there was an Ogre girl I had not managed to free. He was going to use her for his most dangerous and darkest experiment with coldfire. It burns a victim from the inside out.”

  Ciara’s fingers tightened on his arm. Her breath hitched.

  He frowned, racking his memories, trying to recall her face. “She was young, barely fifteen. So sweet, innocent, and good…and that bastard was going to torture her to death. I don’t remember much, except she was terrified.”

  Ciara’s eyes closed. She began to hyperventilate.

  “Hey.” Xavier held her close, stroked her back. “It’s okay.

  Finally she calmed down. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Duncan set her free because I took her place.”

  Silence draped between them.

  “Oh, Xavier,” she said, her voice filled with horror.

  He lowered his gaze to the sheets, remembering the agony. He’d tried not to scream at first, but the coldfire ate through him like acid, burning white-hot. And then he began to scream, his screams never ending. Each time he lapsed toward unconsciousness, Duncan had forced him to awaken.

  “It took two days for me to die.”

  Tears formed in her lovely, green eyes, turning them into wet emeralds. She rubbed her cheek against his, stroking his hair. “My poor Xavier. I wish I could kill Duncan myself for torturing you.”

  Drawn out of his gloomy recollection, he smiled in tender affection. Ciara’s hands were delicate and small. She looked too fragile to tackle a small Troll, let alone a powerful wizard. But the fervor of her tone filled him with wonder. No one had cared for him in centuries or cared to fight his battles. He fought theirs instead.

  “You went to Tir Na-nog after you died.” She kissed his fingers, digit by digit.

  “I spent time in the Shadow Lands to atone for my sin of ignoring the sufferings of Ogres.” Shame coursed through him, even all these years later. “I had thought myself so noble, so damn beneficial, but that power came at a terrible cost.

  “And the goddess Danu sent me back to earth to find Duncan. I was to turn him over to Aeon, the Crystal Wizard. Afterward, I would find peace and tranquility in Tir Na-nog. I found Duncan, hiding in a secret cave. He was an old man, cowering there, begging me not to hurt him. Oh, I wanted to burn him, as he had burned me.”

  Ciara searched his face, and he felt as if she could see inside his soul. “You did not.”

  He sighed, the memory heavy on his heart. “It would not be justice but revenge. He had many lives to atone for, not only mine. I called upon Aeon to take Duncan, and suddenly Duncan turned into Aeon.”

  He touched her pert nose, smiling at her confused look.

  “Aeon had been sent to test me. Duncan was long dead, his soul trapped in the Dark Lands, where the worst Others go when they die. Aeon wished to retire and dwell in peace in Tir Na-nog. The goddess Danu gave me a choice as my reward for choosing justice over revenge. I could return to earth, reincarnated as a wizard with a life of leisure and pleasure, or I could serve the Ogres, Trolls, and Others as the new Crystal Wizard.”

  “You wished to become the Crystal Wizard, not to gain power but to serve,” she guessed again.

  Xavier turned in bed, gathering her into his arms. “Had I craved power, I would not have been granted the title, for it carries heavy responsibility and discernment. I knew I had wronged many Ogres, and I wished to serve them, to be their guardian, so none would suffer as I had suffered.”

  Ciara traced the outline of a heart upon his lips, and his own heart stopped beating for a minute. The gesture seemed so intimate and familiar.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seemed natural.”

  Then he pulled her into his arms again and kissed her. She snuggled against him and fell asleep.

  Though he didn’t require sleep, Xavier closed his eyes as well and slept, dreaming of dancing to an Elvis song with a pretty teenager with a ponytail.

  9

  When he awoke, a full moon shimmered outside on the snow-dusted lawn bordering the creek.

  He held onto Ciara and dematerialized, appearing back in the bed in the motel room in Florida. The moon shimmered over the Gulf of Mexico. Xavier waved a hand, opening the drapes to allow the moonlight to shine into the room. When the leaden dawn light streaked the skies, he slid out of bed and padded over to the sliding glass doors. Ciara stirred in bed and yawned.

  “Where are we now?”

  “Back in Florida. I brought us here.” He turned to her, wanting to spend every precious second with her that they had left.

  “Let’s walk on the beach.”

  The delightful smell of briny air mingled with a hint of fresh rain teased his senses as they left the hotel grounds and stepped onto the sandy beach. Minutes later, they reached the water’s edge.

  He studied her with a frown. “You’re walking funny.”

  Pink tinted her cheekbones. “I’ll be all right.”

  “I was too rough on you.”

  “I’m fine. Just a tiny bit sore.”

  Xavier clasped her upper arm and pulled her to him. He kissed her deeply, a long, lingering kiss, sending a tendril of healing energy into her body.

  When they broke apart, she blinked in surprise. “Wow.”

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded, the pink flushing her cheeks turning to rose.

  He held out his hand, and she took it. They walked along the shoreline, an ordinary couple going for an early morning stroll.

  “Have you ever heard a Nymph sing to the sea creatures?”

  Xavier shook his head. “I have heard it is lovely.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts, his curiosity rising for the first time in many decades.

  Ciara knelt at the water’s edge as the tide gently lapped at her skin. Closing her eyes, she began to sing.

  His heart skipped a beat.

  The notes were pure and sweet, soothing as the stroke of silk over his body. Xavier leaned forward, utterly enchanted and mesmerized. She sang to the water, and two dolphins poked their noses out of the water several yards from the shore.

  Ciara kept singing as the dolphins chortled and nodded.

  A great blue heron winging through the air landed by Xavier and stood, watching Ciara. Xavier ignored the bird.

  “So sweet. Like a Disney movie,” the heron said.

  He kept ignoring the bird.

  “She’s like that character, Ariel. The little mermaid.”

  “Shut up, Tristan.”

  “If Ciara is the little mermaid, does that make you the big fat octopus lady?”

  Xavier glanced down at the heron. “If you’re going to stand there and talk nonsense, do it in your normal form.”

  Tristan shifted into Skin, clad in a b
lack tunic, black leather pants, and soft, doeskin boots. The Silver Wizard nodded at Ciara, who had stopped singing and sat watching the dolphins, which suddenly noticed a school of fish and gave chase.

  “She is quite lovely.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t like Tristan studying Ciara with such intensity.

  “You know what you must do,” the Silver Wizard said almost gently.

  He ignored that. Just a few hours more. A few hours to feel like a normal man, falling for a pretty girl. Xavier glanced at Tristan.

  “Did you find out anything for me?”

  “As you suspected. The Trolls planned to leave tomorrow.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why have me double-check?”

  Xavier folded his arms across his chest. “To make sure. Because I have been distracted as of late. And I won’t do anything that final and drastic if my head is in the clouds.”

  He hated the note of cynicism weaving through his voice, yet it was always present, like a familiar partner. Only when he was with Ciara had it faded. But Tristan didn’t look relieved to see him as his old self. Instead, he looked sympathetic. The other wizard put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

  “Take care.”

  He gave a grudging laugh. “You think I don’t know how to handle Trolls? My own people?”

  “It is not the Trolls that concern me. It is the Nymph.” Tristan sighed. “I must be off now.”

  “Good luck, my friend.” Xavier felt his chest tighten. “I wish you well with Nikita.”

  The Silver Wizard blinked. “No sarcasm, for once. Thank you. You take care as well. Guard your heart, X. For such a cold, crystalline object, it can be quite fragile.”

  With that little verbal punch, Tristan vanished.

  Ciara turned and stood, brushing sand off her knees. She ran to him and grabbed his hand. They resumed their walk. He listened as she chattered about the birds and their nesting habits. Once or twice, he stooped over to examine seashells. He found one, the insides a soft pink that reminded him of her rosy pink center as he’d made love to her with his mouth.

  Xavier tucked it into his pocket. “Let’s go back to the room, and I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “Pancakes?” she asked eagerly. “With blueberries?”

  He smiled. “Of course.”

  As they traversed up the wide beach to the hotel, a green-and-yellow tractor rumbled nearby, using a flat rake to comb the sand. Ciara looked at him with an impish expression.

  “No,” he said firmly.

  “Oh, come on, Xavier. It will be fun to steal a tractor and go for a joyride!”

  “You already crashed a lawnmower into a fence,” he reminded her.

  She gave a mock pout. “Please?”

  “No.”

  “You’re such an old stuffed shirt,” she teased.

  “I am old.” He gently tweaked her nose. “I am more than seven hundred years old. I am a cynical, old wizard.”

  Her gaze softened. “I was teasing you. You are not old. You have the energy and freshness of youth and the experience of an older man, truly the best combination. No one has ever treated me with such consideration and patience before. You make me laugh and bring me such joy, Xavier.”

  Breaking apart from him, she spun around, her hands in the air as she laughed with joyous abandon. “I could stay here forever with you.”

  And that is why you must leave her. His heart twisted. Tristan was right. That fragile organ in his chest was beginning to shatter.

  They returned to their room, and he made her pancakes with blueberries from scratch. The pancakes were a trifle burnt, but she applauded as if he were a French chef. They took their plates and dined on the balcony, watching the Skins head to the beach for the morning.

  When they finished, Xavier waved a hand, and the dishes vanished. Ciara laughed. “You’re much more efficient than a dishwasher.”

  He smiled, but his chest felt tight. Today he must leave her and go his separate way. He could not divine her future but knew he was not part of it, for he could not distract himself with Ciara. Could not fall…

  In love.

  Is this love? It hurts like hell. It hurts worse than when Andromeda betrayed me.

  But Ciara had her destiny, and Xavier knew he must not be part of it.

  She studied him with a solemn look. Then Ciara tugged off the silver ring from her finger. Kneeling before him, she unfolded his palm and placed the ring in his hand. The gesture felt so damn familiar that it made his chest hurt.

  He hid his feelings with a smile. “What is this?”

  “My ring. My most precious possession. I wish you to have it…so you will always remember me and our time together.” She folded his fingers over the small circle.

  Xavier’s throat closed tight. So many over the decades had clamored for favors from him, begging for magick, power, riches, and jewels. This lovely Nymph asked for nothing and gave so much in return.

  He opened his palm and studied the ring. “Thank you. I shall cherish it forever.”

  He slid it upon his pinkie, and to his surprise, it expanded to fit snugly against his skin. Ciara’s mouth tipped up.

  “Magick. One reason why it’s my most precious possession. I endowed it with my magick. It was fashioned in the heart of the forest, in the waters of remembrance, so I would always recall my duties to the earth.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her, her mouth warm and soft beneath the slight pressure of his own. “And I have a gift for you as well, my sweet. Sit.”

  When she resumed her seat, he waved a hand, and a pink box tied with a blue ribbon appeared on her lap.

  “Open it,” he said softly.

  Ciara pulled the ribbon off then the box top. Inside was a pair of white sandals, the straps adorned with tiny, glittering, quartz stones.

  He plucked out one shoe and placed it on her bare right foot. A perfect fit. The other sandal fit perfectly as well.

  “I know you dislike wearing shoes, so I fashioned these for you. How do they feel?”

  “Soft as down, comfortable, and warm.”

  “The crystals match the ones in my hair,” he joked, trying to coax a smile from her, hating her woebegone look.

  “I like your hair,” she said softly.

  He scrubbed a hand over his bearded cheek. “The crystals have energy and will keep you from harm.”

  Ciara pointed her right foot, her mouth wobbling. “And will you be there for me?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

  “And now what happens?”

  He’d ensured she’d never know want. “I arranged to pay off the note on your father’s house. It’s now deeded to you. You are free to live there as long as you wish. Or sell it. I also added cash to your bank account, enough so that you will never have to work.”

  Ciara studied them with a cynicism he had never seen on her. “Gifts for the privilege of sleeping with me? Just as someone would give a whore.”

  Anger flashed inside him. He clasped her chin in one hand, forcing her to look at him. “Never call yourself that. You are a unique and lovely Nymph. What we shared was special, not a mere exchange of flesh.”

  “So special that you must leave. And I will never see you again.”

  Frustrated, he took a deep breath. “How can I make you understand that I cannot stay? I have duties, responsibilities…”

  “You are the Crystal Wizard. Can you not have love as well?”

  Love. His soul leapt at the notion, but deep inside, his heart shrank away. Love was for mortals, not him. Love made one vulnerable and enthralled. And he had vowed long ago to never let his guard down, lest an Other die, tortured and screaming in pain…

  “You think I’m a romantic, a being worthy of love?”

  Ciara took his hand, removing it from her face. She stared into his eyes, her gaze soft with emotion. “I know you are. The man who made love to me, who made me laugh and made me weep with joy, who brought me out of my darkness,
is worthy of love.”

  He must stop this now, show her the truth. It would hurt like hell, but she could not pine for him, falling in love with a vision he could never fulfill for her.

  Xavier tugged at her hand. “Come with me.”

  He took her down to the parking lot, where the Troll couple was tossing things into a minivan. The little boy she’d played with, building a castle by the seashore, hovered by the open door. The boy’s face was tight with unhappiness. Xavier waved a hand to create a bubble over the Trolls, himself, Ciara, and the boy so no outsiders could see what he must do.

  Then he released an invisible web of magick around the Trolls, and they froze in place.

  Xavier released Ciara’s hand and squatted down by the boy. “Hello, Timmy. I’m here to return you to your parents. Your real parents.”

  The boy brightened. “My mommy and daddy?” Then he looked at the minivan. “But they said they were my real mommy and daddy. I don’t understand.”

  “When they awaken from the spell your false parents cast upon them, your real mommy and daddy will miss you very much. You shall see them very soon.” He murmured a chant, and Gideon appeared.

  “Return Timmy to his parents,” Xavier told him.

  Gideon nodded. “And I will awaken them from their spell and erase their memories so they will not have the terror lingering in their minds.”

  Xavier’s mouth thinned as he thought of the innocent Mages and what they had nearly lost. “The Trolls put a spell on his parents so they would not miss him.”

  The Crimson Wizard looked at the scared little boy and put a calming hand on his head. He picked up the boy in his arms. “Timmy, have you ever been flying?”

  The boy grinned. “Never!”

  “Let’s go.”

  When they lifted into the air, unseen by others, Xavier turned to Ciara. “Stand here. Don’t move.”

  He used his most authoritative voice. He lifted the spell from the Trolls, who backed away.

  “You stole Timmy from his parents last week.”

  “Please, mercy—” the female began.

  “If you merely stole him because you wanted a child, or you had good intentions, there would be mercy. But not for you.”