Under the Mask
Seven Stories of Mystery and Seduction
Monica Corwin
Carma Haley
D. F. Krieger
Tierney O’Malley
Jen Bradlee
Leona Bushman
Nicole Morgan
Contents
Monica Corwin
The Shifter Masque
Carma Haley
Masque of Deceit
D. F. Krieger
Midnight Masquerade
Tierney O’Malley
Invitation From a Dream Lover
Jen Bradlee
A Twist of Fate
Leona Bushman
Masked Pain
Nicole Morgan
Removing the Layers
The Shifter Masque
Monica Corwin
The Shifter Masque © 2017 by Monica Corwin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
About The Shifter Masque
Malina has been called many things … chief amongst them: defective. As the only non-shifting member of her pack she’s hardened herself to rejection, but one man is going to change Malina’s world … a pack-master in search of his mate.
Chapter One
A black vellum envelope with blood red ink only meant one thing. My hands shook as I caressed the raised seal on the back: a red wolf pressed into a bed of gold. I swallowed the knot churning up from my chest and dashed inside, careful not to crush the beautiful specimen in my excitement. As the only non-shifting member of my pack I’d never received an invitation to The Shifter Masque.
I’d spent hours over the years staring rapt as my three older brothers accepted their own invitations, and on my twenty-first birthday I danced and paced by the mailbox for mine. When it didn’t arrive disappointment clutched my heart. On repeat every year. It wasn’t simply about being excluded. It was the confirming symbol that while I lived in the pack’s compound, and worked among them, that I’d never truly belong.
Now, four years later, why had it arrived, and what did it mean?
I held the envelope gently in my palm as I sat at the farmhouse kitchen table that took up most of my family’s dining room. The wood was scored, scorched, and well loved. A strange juxtaposition to the beautiful envelope resting in my hands.
My brother Max entered a moment later and caught me staring at it.
“I didn’t know they’d come yet. Is that mine?”
I shook my head and pressed it to my chest as he rounded behind my chair clapping me on the shoulders. “Oh, way to go, Little Sis, I’m happy you get to come this year.”
I was still a little speechless, but that was ridiculous. I cleared my throat before speaking. “I’ll need to buy a formal dress, there won’t be anything left.”
Mom wandered into the room a moment later drying her long brown hair with a towel. “What won’t be left?”
“Dresses.” I waved the invitation toward her and she froze.
“You got an invitation?”
“It would seem so.”
“Why now?”
I frowned. I’d been asking myself the same thing, but I was also too excited to think rationally. I’d never been to The Grand Majestic, and I’d been dying to see the mysterious neutral zone hotel since I was old enough to know it existed. It was a romantic notion. A place where all magical creatures found sanctuary.
Mom peered at the envelope now sitting on the table before me. “Are you going to open it?”
I’d known what it was immediately I hadn’t even considered opening it. I flipped it over and popped the pack’s crest free from the paper. With a final caress I slid the flap of the envelope up and dragged the smooth paper out. The paper inside opposed its wrapping in white with black calligraphy.
Malina BlackShadow,
You are cordially invited to the annual Shifter Masque. You may not bring a date unless they have also been invited. The dress code is black tie formal. Please wear a mask in the form you prefer.
Raven WildSpark
Hillside Pack Master
“Who is Raven Wildspark?” I asked, slipping the invite back home. The pack’s master was named Ben for as long as I had been alive. Not that I’d ever met the man.
My brother and mom shared a long look. Although I didn't understand what the sudden tension was about. My family loved me dearly, but they tried to keep shifter business away from me, thinking, as a disabled member of the pack I didn’t need the information. To be constantly reminded about my inability.
Mom took the lead, holding her hand up to stall my brother’s response. “Raven is our new pack master. However, he hasn’t run with the pack yet, and people are starting to wonder how he ascended.”
“What do you mean wonder?”
“Usually, the master has to fight to be leader, but Ben died, and Raven was just there to take over.”
With absolutely no touchstone in pack politics I took their word for it. Fear trickled in to replace the excitement. “Is there anything I should know? Protocol, or something...”
Mom came around scooting Max out of the way with her hips and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “No, Baby Girl. We will find you a dress, and your brothers will take you to a party. Your job is to have fun.”
My fingers tingled, but not with the December chill. As if my body had become a live wire and my fingers were the grounding points. My second oldest brother, Josh, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me into the foyer. Everything glittered from the crystal chandelier dominating the entryway to the high polished brass, and granite countertop at the check in desk. Crowds headed toward a side entrance and Josh led me along with the throng.
I was glad he didn’t try to draw me into conversation because I stood speechless as I entered the grand ballroom. My other two brothers crowded behind me, all dressed handsomely in tuxedos with domino masks. I feared for girls brave enough to cross paths with them. They were a handful on good days. Josh released me with a kiss on the knuckle and headed across the room. Sam and Mikael dispersed as well, and I stood just past the entrance, alone. My parents didn’t join us this year, and I was happy to not be hovering in the corner with my mother. However, I didn’t think how it would be not to know anyone present except my brothers.
I fussed with the crinoline of my skirt. It was black with sewn in silver beads spread across the surface twinkling like the night sky. The top was a fitted bodice cupping my curves tightly. I wore a red lipstick, and a red mask to complement each other. My mother had twisted my dark hair in an array of curls and braids on top of my head. I felt lovely, but feared approaching anyone. No one here knew I couldn't shift; in fact, everyone would assume I could. Walking into anything felt dishonest.
I turned toward the door. Maybe this entire thing was a mistake? I almost made it out when a hand closed around my fingers. I scanned up the offending appendage attached to my own across a black tuxedo, black everything, even his hair was jet black. His eyes so dark they almost appeared black as well though the shock of his white mask. It covered half his face and angled up across his eyes, a la Phantom of the Opera. I had to give him props for the bold choice.
“Excuse me,” he offered, releasing me. “I couldn't let you leave. You look too beautiful to be any
where else tonight.”
I met those piercing eyes with challenge. “Oh, yeah? And who said you could touch me? A simple ‘hey you’ would have sufficed.”
He bowed, although not appearing out-of-date with the gesture. “My apologies again. Would you like to dance with me?”
I glanced at the dance floor. Music pounded through the room but the floor was mostly empty save a smattering of couples. Nerves clawed at me again. What if someone saw me? Knew who I was?
No. I wore a mask, that was the point of masked balls. Besides, I didn’t have a line of drop dead gorgeous men waiting to dance with me.
“Okay, I guess.”
He chuckled. “A solid agreement.” Sarcasm heavy in his tone.
“I can go back to standing by the wall.”
He laughed this time in earnest. “No, please...” He held his elbow out for me to take.
I wrapped my hand around it slowly and he led me out into the almost empty floor. The music shifted to something more melodic as we walked. When we stopped, he turned me to face him, my skirt swishing against my legs that sprouted goosebumps. As I stood in front of him, with the full weight of that black gaze on me, I felt naked in his arms. Bared to him and the room. He slid his hand around my waist achingly slow and cupped my palm in his other hand. It was an innocent embrace but heat climbed up my neck and into my cheeks, regardless.
He led us into a slow waltz, and for once in my life I sat back and let a man lead me. He did it so effortlessly it didn’t even feel like I’d given up control.
“Is this your first masque?”
Jerked from the hypnotic twirling I met his eyes and abruptly tumbled down a new rabbit hole. “Um, yes, it is my first one.”
“Why didn’t you come to others? I’ve never seen you here.”
“Well, honestly, I had never received an invitation.” He was skating too close to my own issues for comfort.
“That seems odd. I thought all shifter families received an invitation if the member is of age.”
I cleared my throat. "So then I take it you have been to one of these before? Any tips for a newbie?"
He chuckled. The the subject change wasn’t lost on him, but he happily moved on, and I sighed in relief.
“Tips hmm ... well, stay away from the punch after ten. Some of the younger crowd adds more tequila. Make sure you lock your hotel room door after the party, again the younger bunch gets a little rowdy and go in search of un-raided minibars.”
“You keep saying younger bunch like you’re over the age of what, 25?”
“Yeah, we can go with that number. And for the sake of clarity, you’re what, 21?”
“Sure, we can go with that.”
I had to smile at his quick wit and encouraging face. He had an intense gaze but something else about him lulled me into comfort. The song changed to something with a faster tempo and he jerked me into him hard by the small of my back. I almost protested until he spun me out and back in with the same amount of force. I’d never tangoed in my life but it would seem this man could lead a giraffe and make it look graceful.
He clutched my hips to him and heat lingered where his finger pressed and passed. Something needy awakened inside me with the crush of his hands and the sensual beat of the music. I let go, abandoned the worry and fear, and danced with a beautiful stranger.
We danced until my feet ached and he led me off the floor to a table nearby. “Would you like a drink?” he asked, holding my hand as I hopped onto a bar height stool.
“Yes, please. Surprise me.”
He drifted away, and I unabashedly marveled at the shape of his butt in perfectly tailored trousers.
One of my brothers, Mikael, descended the moment he left. “I see you caught one, Little Sis. What’s his name so we can beat him up later?”
It struck me I hadn't asked his name, and he didn’t know mine. “I don’t know yet. Isn’t that the point?”
I glanced back to catch sight of him returning. People fairly skittered from his path. I turned to shoo my brother away but his mouth hung agape and stayed that way until the stranger handed me the drink and took a look at my brother. He stood about two inches taller than Mikael and his shoulders were almost twice as wide, which said something since all of my brothers were bigger men. Common in predatory animal shifters. Two brothers were wolves, one a bear. I would have loved to learn what form I should have taken. I swallowed the sadness threatening to eclipse the fun I’d been having and glanced between the men.
“Mr. Wildspark. Nice to see you again,” Mikael finally offered. It was my turn to gape. I’d been dancing with the pack leader for an hour and didn’t even know it. Way to go me.
He held out his hand to my brother. “Raven, please.”
“Raven,” he said.
The shook hands. “Mikael.”
“Of course, I remember.”
He turned to me and I jerked under that gaze all over again. “Although now you have me at somewhat of a disadvantage young lady. I didn’t get your name.”
I took a sip to fortify my rapidly fraying nerves. “Malina. Mikael is my brother.”
Something lit in his eyes and he leaned down and kissed my hand. “Nice to meet you, officially, Malina.”
My brother had effectively been dismissed and was smart enough to take off. But now I waited for Raven to leave as well.
“Do you want to dance some more, Malina?”
He said my name as if tasting it in his mouth. It shot heat through me in long neglected places.
“Do you mind if we sit a moment?”
“Of course not.” He took the seat my brother had been leaning on and faced me. I wanted to meet his eyes but the shame of him knowing I couldn’t shift and him remaining by my side out of propriety or some misplaced sense of duty started to eat at me.
“You don’t have to stay with me. Now that you know who I am, I don’t expect you to linger.”
His brow furrowed and darkened. I couldn’t see the result underneath the mask but his whole forehead shifted.
He drew his hands up and cupped his long black hair into a ponytail before securing it behind his head with an elastic from his wrist. It was an ‘I’m about to get down to business’ gesture.
I plucked at the elastic around my own wrist. Even though my hair was up tonight I’d worn it out of habit. The idea he kept one on his wrist for the same reason made him a little more human to me. We’d shared something as we danced and then in two seconds my brother shattered that by revealing Raven’s identity. I’d never be anything more to him than a charity case.
“I don’t like that frown on your face, Malina,” he said. He stood, shifted the chair and brought it closer. I pulled away.
He didn’t let me go, but trapped me in a cage of his arms on either side of my chair.
“Can we go back to the way we were before? Just two people, two shifters, spending some time together? Having fun?”
I shook my head and wrapped my hand around the drink. The urge to down in it one go coursing through me. “But that’s it. We aren’t just two shifters. I can’t shift. I’ve never been able to shift.”
He caressed a knuckle down my cheek from the edge of my mask. “Why should that matter? You were born into a shifter family. The shift is in your blood. I can smell it in you. The magic, the raw power.”
I met his eyes. “Can you really?”
“Oh yes. I can smell it. I feel your animal inside you. Caged, waiting to come out.”
The room grew minute in that space. It was only him and me. No one else. “I have a form?”
“Oh you do, and she is ready to be unleashed.”
Fear spiked through me. “Is this some line? A clever way to pick up girls.”
He chuckled. “Do you think I’m the kind of man who needs clever lines to get a date?”
The absurdity of my statement washed over me. Ok, he was pack master, he had his choice of willing women from the pack. They would line up and take turns.
�
�I’m sorry. I’m really nervous.”
He clasped my hands in one big palm, sat my drink on the table, and engulfed my knuckles completely with the other. The heat of him reached me through his trousers. “You weren’t nervous five minutes ago. Please, relax. We were chatting. Let’s do that.”
I gave him a wan smile. “You’re right. Let’s chat. How did you ascend to pack master after Ben?”
His entire body shot rigid as he weighed me with those eyes. I was sure he’d release me and leave, but a moment passed, and he seemed to relax a degree. “You call that chatting?”
I shrugged. “I don’t like secrets and apparently that is the question on the packs mind...even if I’m not included in most pack functions.”
“Well, it’s complicated. I’d be happy to tell you but you’d have to let me take you upstairs.”
It was my turn to stare him down. “You want me to go to bed with you in exchange for information?”
I considered it for a second, for the first time in my life I’d have something of use to the pack. But, my good sense won out, and I shook my head pulling my hands away.
He laughed. “No, we’d need privacy, but not for what is obviously on your mind.”
The heat of a blush crept up my neck. I stared into his eyes, he seemed sincere, and genuine. I’d enjoyed spending time with him. “As long as you promise going upstairs will not result in us having sex.”
He leaned in and bit my earlobe gently. “I would never agree to that. But I promise, we won’t have sex until you ask me nicely.”
My eyes closed involuntarily at the caress. The imprint of his teeth remained on my sensitive lobe and I sat an embarrassingly long time awash in the sensations.
“Are you ready?”
I opened my eyes. His hand was suspended before me and I grasped it tight in my own. With a hop I was off the stool but wobbled in the heels, which he corrected by wrapping his other arm around my waist.
Under the Mask: A Multi-Genre Collection Page 1
