by Tl Reeve
Lance licked her cheek repeatedly, trying to wake her, worrying something else could be wrong.
“Alpha.” Casper laid his hand between Lance’s shoulder blades. “You have to change her. She doesn’t smell right. Something’s wrong.”
The first rule of biting rang clear in his head. He’d fought with himself last night to not do the same.
“You have to or she will die.”
He glanced over her body and immediately found the problem. A shard of glass from the front door impaled her side. Lance whimpered. What if she didn’t want to change? What if she hated him afterward? Fuck. Her eyes finally fluttered open and a small smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re alive.”
“Amity, you have to accept his bite or you’ll die. You’re losing too much blood.” Casper held her in his arms, already angling her so Lance could reach her.
“Whaa? Bite me?” Her head lolled to the side.
“Yes. You’re hurt really bad, but his bite can save you. Will you accept it?”
She frowned. “This is a crazy dream.” She tried to move, but cried out in pain.
Lance whined and licked her cheek.
“Say yes, Amity.”
“But I’m scared.” A single tear tracked down her cheek.
“Don’t be. We’ll be here the whole time. None of us will leave you behind. That’s what pack means. Family.”
She swallowed hard, her skin turned a sickly shade of gray. “Yes.”
Lance went for it. He didn’t need to think. Didn’t need to weigh the consequences. She’d live because he saved her. His teeth pierced her flesh, and when the tang of blood hit his tongue, he licked the wound. His saliva not only contained healing properties, but also held the antibodies to change her DNA. Shifting back, Lance grabbed her from Casper and held onto her. He didn’t want to let her go.
“Get this placed cleaned up. Send for Caleb, we’re going to have to get the glass out in order for her to heal properly.” He stood then started for the stairs.
“Why don’t you go to my place.” Lucy filled the hole where the door once was. “You’ve got clothes and crap there. You can’t be here. Too much shit. Too much blood.”
He glanced down at Amity. Already her skin was starting to pink up. The deep bruising around her eyes was retreating. “Fine. Send Caleb to Lucy’s place.”
Casper nodded. “On it.”
“Let’s go.”
The rumble of whispered voices greeted Amity as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. The scent of strong coffee tickled her senses along with a woodsy, dangerous smell. She recoiled. None of what she experienced made sense. She peered out from half-closed eyes, not wanting to give away her conscious status. Lance and who she believed was Casper stood by the foot of her bed, engaged in a deep conversation.
“You’ll have to tell her the truth.”
“I’ll tell her when she’s healed,” Lance replied.
“And when she shifts without warning, scaring the shit out of herself?”
She closed her eyes as he glanced back at her. What did he mean shift?
She searched her memories, trying desperately to figure out what she’d missed or forgotten while concentrating on their conversation. Everything came back to her with roaring clarity. Their conversation of him being another. The man and the wolf. She remembered her anger and fear, and then the deep-seated recognition she’d never be good enough for him.
Javier had found her. He assaulted her, throwing her around like a rag doll without compunction or fear of what might happen to her. Most assuredly wanting her dead. Then, Lance saved her life…and…. She reached up and touched the side of her neck. The puckered, healing marks of where he bit her startled her. They didn’t hurt, in fact they tingled—her whole body did the longer she touched them.
How is any of this possible?
“You can open your eyes now, Amity.” Lance’s rough voice cut through her internal musings.
“I might not want to yet.” She refused to open her eyes. Too much happened. She couldn’t process all of it a one time.
“I’ll give you two some room. I think you both need time to assimilate what’s happened.” The retreating footsteps accompanied the closing of the door, leaving her alone with Lance.
“You bit me.” Not a question, more like a statement. She ran her fingers over the marks once more. “Why?”
He sat beside her and laid his hand on her leg. “Do you remember anything after I arrived?”
“You mean after you crashed through the door?”
He nodded.
Not much. Everything seemed to blur together. “Javier had a gun.”
“You pushed me out of the way and took the bullet.”
“In the shoulder. How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been here a couple days. You were also stabbed by a piece of the glass from the door.” He grazed his fingers over her side. “You were dying and I—”
“Saved my life.” Her lip trembled. “Casper made you bite me.”
“Yes, well, no.”
“I’m like you now. A…a wolf shifter?”
He inclined his head. The fear in his eyes tore at her. “Am I still your mate?”
He chuckled. “That will never change.”
She sat up a little straighter, expecting to wince in pain, instead, there was none. “What do we do now?”
“Now you start your life.” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “This time you don’t have to worry about being stalked or abandoned. You’ll have no worries of Javier finding you or trying to hurt you ever again.”
“With you.” She ran her fingertips down his cheek. “Here.”
“Well, I am the alpha, after all.” He grinned and took her hand in his then kissed her fingers.
“This is so much to take in.” She swallowed hard. “I left you on the worst of terms. I mean, you did bare your soul to me and I rejected you.”
“You were scared. You ran. I should have taken better care with how I told you. I should have waited until after Javier was dealt with. I am sorry.” He bent his head and kissed her.
The sparks of heat between them came back and spread through her. Amity clung to him. The yearning to feel his body against hers overwhelmed her, banishing anything else she might want to say to him. “Lance.”
“I’m right here, mate.” He removed his shirt, then kissed her again. “I’m a bastard to even consider fucking you right now. I should wait till you’re ready.”
“I am.” She ran her hand down his chest to the waist of his jeans. “I need you.”
Lance pushed the covers back, exposing her to the cool air of the room. The shirt she wore wasn’t hers. “You should always wear my clothes. It gets me hard just looking at you.” He pushed his hands under the shirt and cupped her breasts.
A groan of pleasure fell from her lips as she arched to him. “Can do.” She gasped as he pinched her nipple and tugged on it.
“There’s one thing I forgot to tell you when I was explaining everything.” He buried his face in her neck.
“Oh?” Her breath hitched as he laved the mark he’d left behind.
“I love you, Amity Jones. Have since the minute I found you on the side of the road.” He kissed a path down her throat then flicked his tongue against the hollow spot at the juncture of her shoulder and neck.
She lifted his head and stared into his amber eyes. “You really love me?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Of course.”
“I love you too.” She didn’t know when she realized it. Maybe when Lance broke through the door and charged after Javier. Or when she figured out she’d been running because it’d been easier to do so than face what bothered her. Or maybe it’d been when she heard his distant voice when he lamented changing her. Fighting it, but ultimately knowing it was the only way she’d survive.
“I think it’s time to stop talking now.” He claimed her lips again, stilling whatever else s
he might have had to say.
Though the circumstances which brought them together weren’t the best, Amity learned one thing. People did get second chances to find everlasting love. They had to be open to it, of course, even if it came in the form of a wolf on a mission.
“I have a feeling we’re going to have an interesting life together.”
“You have no idea, darlin’.” He laughed. “But we’ll take it one day at a time.”
“Together.”
He grinned. “Together.”
About the Author
TL Reeve, a bestselling, multi-published author with Cobblestone Press, Decadent Publishing, Evernight Publishing, and Loose-Id, was born out of a love of family and a bond that became unbreakable. Living in Alabama, TL misses Los Angeles, and will one-day return to the beaches of Southern California to ride the waves at Huntington Beach. When not writing something hot and sexy, TL can be found curled up with a good book, or working on homework with a cute little pixie.
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Eight Nights in Eden
Kim Carmichael
1
Night One
“You are getting top billing, VIP treatment every step of the way, and social media exposure to millions,” Perry Miller said, then sat back and lifted his brandy. He held the large glass up in the direction of Dirk Diamond, the lead singer of the up-and-coming band, Crushed, and their manager, Donald Finch.
In the expensive, dark restaurant, known more for pretention than cuisine, Dirk definitely stood out in his leather jacket, ripped T-shirt, and more jewelry than one of those reality show housewives, but it was all part of Perry’s plan. He needed to throw them off track, make them happy, giddy, full of overpriced steak, and drunk on the finest alcohol. Then and only then would he be able to salvage his mess.
Rather than sipping from the glass like a gentleman, Dirk lifted the bottle from the center of the table and took a long gulp. Perry supposed he wouldn’t be taking the leftovers with him back to his hotel suite.
“We’ll take another bottle.” Donald motioned to the waiter. “Also, you don’t mind if we order some dessert, right?”
A quick calculation told Perry that his credit card might or might not go through by the end of this soiree, but it would be worth it. Perhaps a good old-fashioned dine and dash was in order, but in Vegas everything was on camera. He wouldn’t get as far as the casino door. “Order whatever you like.” He bent down and slid the contracts that would guarantee Crushed as their opening act in his company’s upcoming Alternative Life concert. Once they’d signed, he would get any other act he wanted. Once that happened, the money wouldn’t just roll in—it would be a wave that would crash over him. What a way to drown.
Another bottle of brandy at the ready, the waiter stared right at him and cracked the seal, basically telling Perry that he broke it, he bought it.
Dirk lifted his chin. “We’ll take that gold leaf chocolate bomb.” He glanced around the table. “Times three.”
The waiter nodded and left.
Perry’s throat dried out along with his checkbook. One dessert alone was triple digits. He clutched his water glass, allowing the cool condensation to lower his temperature. These men had already dug through multiple appetizers, salad, soup, bone-in steaks seared to perfection, and enough side dishes to make a full banquet alone. Ah well, he would get what he wanted in the end. “Before our million-dollar dessert arrives, let’s say we make this official.” He slapped the contract down on the table.
“Last time we put a ring on it, we got shut down before we ever performed.” Dirk lifted the paper, gave it a slight shrug, and tossed it to Donald.
“But you were headliners.” Perry put the salesman grin on his face, not too much teeth, but not too much lip either. It was just right.
“Who traveled around for no pay, a crappy venue, and a bunch of promises that were never kept. We didn’t even sell merchandise.” Dirk hit it right back to him. “It actually cost us money to not play at your concert.”
While Perry wanted to tell him that the bill for this dinner would most definitely make up for anything the band had lost last time, he didn’t need them to go down the laundry list of other sins he’d committed, like the time he forgot to put their name on the flyer when they were starting out, and the little discrepancy in the percentage paid on the concert that actually went through. “I can assure you that won’t happen again. This is the time. This is the one. The venue is amazing, and the marketing on fleek.”
Donald thumbed through the contract, then sat back. “I can also assure you it won’t happen again.” After not only a pregnant pause, but one way past its due date, the man held the document up and ripped it in half. He let go of the papers, and the scraps drifted to the floor.
Every muscle in Perry’s body tightened. “Don’t worry. I have an extra copy.”
“It’s probably written in invisible ink.” Donald stood and flashed his cell phone at him.
Perry grabbed the arm of the chair. There, splashed on the screen, was a story on one of the biggest music blogs on how Judge Field, their venue, was already booked. In fact one of the best concert locations would soon be a mall with two anchor stores and upscale shopping.
“You never even scheduled it. You don’t have anything.” The manager slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Listen.” Perry held his hand out. “Location is secondary to having the best bands. I promise it will be somewhere magnificent.” The only issue was no notable location would let him book the place without proof of true talent. His past failures crept up on him.
“I promise when you produce something magnificent, we will be in the audience cheering you on, but my band won’t be anywhere on your stage.” Donald picked up the bottle of brandy. “And my promises are worth something.”
Dirk pushed his chair back, and the waiter returned with their gold chocolate bombs. “This seems like the perfect dessert for you.” With a low laugh, the lead singer picked up his dessert.
Both men began to walk away.
“Guys, we can work this out.” Perry jumped out of his chair.
Dirk stopped, and Perry held his breath.
The artist returned to the table with a wide smile. He reached over and picked up a spoon. “Thanks for the eats.”
This time they left. Without another glance back in his direction, they sauntered out in swirl of sugary confections and smooth alcohol.
Perry fell back into his chair, and the waiter returned.
“Your bill.” The waiter glared at him and stood close, too close.
No dining and dashing for him.
Rather than look at the total and vomit up dollar signs, he simply handed the waiter his credit card and said a silent prayer it went through.
As he waited, he pulled one of the desserts toward him, wondering if there was any way to scrape off the gold leaf and cash it in at the casino.
“I promise I’ll fix this.” Perry clutched the steering wheel and headed straight into the nothing.
The highway from Las Vegas to Los Angeles was pretty boring and empty most of the way; the trip from Las Vegas the opposite direction to nowhere positively desolate. Perry’s car headlights provided the only illumination on the dark road, and he drove into the blackness, not caring where he ended up.
After taking three credit cards to pay the bill at the restaurant, Perry knew his concert-promotion company couldn’t afford a night in an upscale hotel. Hell, he couldn’t afford a night in a dive. He also couldn’t return to Los Angeles empty-handed and tell his business partner he’d failed…again. Especially after he’d promised this time would be different.
“You always say things will be different.”
Lyle’s voice came out low, draped in disappointment.
Perry shook his head. Rather than turning and going back home and facing the music, pun not intended, he packed up his chocolate bombs and decided to find out what was in the opposite direction. He had to figure out something. “I’m on my way to find a new venue. We will have talent. We will have everything.”
“I’m done with this,” Lyle growled. “If you were in a rock band, it would be called Broken Promises. I have to go. This partnership is over.”
The phone went dead, and Perry spent the next three hours driving and trying not to doze off. Only his banging alternative music turned all the way up, vibrating the car, broke through the blackness.
How many times had he put himself in this exact position? Telling people what they wanted to hear and getting the deal, even if there was no deal to be made?
Somehow he always managed to get things sorted out, make the buck, have the show. Maybe there was less profit, less notable names, less great locations, but it happened.
Except for now, when his business needed it most.
An unexpected bump in the road jolted him out of his thoughts.
His leased Ferrari, a true piece of art in motion, shook. The car slowed, and no matter how hard he pressed on the accelerator, his vehicle finally came to a stop, seeming to gasp for air as he just managed to pull off to the side of the highway.
“Dammit.” Along with everything else, he didn’t need car trouble, and he pressed his back into the leather seat of his car.
More money, more repairs, more calling others for help. He had nothing left to promise anyone. Gritting his teeth, he got out of the car and popped open the hood.
