20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  The pain in her leg had lessened by the time she’d limped to her car and found the keys in the ignition. And when she looked in the mirror, the burns on her cheeks had already faded a bit. Silver hurt, but enough of the wolf remained inside her that she was healing already.

  “Helen, use the retreat land.” His last words echoed in her mind again and again. But how could she use his mountain for the Rom’s path? Their migration through his land would remind him annually or more of the last few days. He would remember her ugliness and pain, the pity he’d felt and then the truth of her lies when the power of the wolf was revealed to him. He’d discover the joy of the hunt and the relish you could have for hot fresh meat from the kill. How would he believe that she’d ever wanted it to stop? And how would he reconcile that with the pain the shift cause? At best he would think she was some kind of masochistic nut.

  She put the car in drive and backed away from the gathering of Rom ruva. As a child she’d loved fairy tales, but she couldn’t see this story, even filled as it was with magic, as having a happy ending.

  Three weeks later and she had no answer. No new location for the Rom. Her failure drove her through the long hours of work when she would process the paperwork on her developments, and work absently on David’s proposals, despite the fact he was unlikely to ever work with her again. Hopefully he would see that Multoma could help him progress. She didn’t have to be part of the deal. She’d just set it all up so it was easy for him, and see he made a good bit of money. Not that any of it assuaged her guilt over what had happened to him.

  She couldn’t sleep. Or eat. Every spare moment she reviewed another piece of land, another place that might meet all of the Rom’s criteria, plus a few of her own, like being unlikely to be disturbed or redeveloped for some time. But there was nothing in the area. With one exception.

  David’s mountain. Not the top, where his cabin sat or where he’d planned his retreat. But more along the middle range where land had been cleared for logging a dozen years ago. There were flat spaces there and electricity had been run to aid the loggers. Water was plentiful between springs and a small lake, and the water table was high enough that well could be sunk easily if that’s what the Rom preferred.

  But how could she do that to him? How could she set the damned Gypsies right under his nose? And if she bought up that land, he wouldn’t have enough for the retreat he’d discussed with her. Not to mention that having a roving band of Gypsies stopping by on a regular rotation was likely to make high paying clients reconsider said retreat.

  Yet, how could she not do something? There was nothing else available and if she didn’t give them something that worked, both she and David would be in terrible danger.

  The Rom were a strong people. They meant what they said. Grandmother Donceanu had promised them to the wolves if she fell flat on her word and failed to give the people a new location to add to their magical path.

  Every day she worked her way through the problems of this single patch of land. Large by some respects, huge by others, but likely comfortably big enough to a small pack of wolves. And every day, after she’d considered all the positive aspects of the mountain, she reviewed the ways it would hurt David. Round and round in a circle, her thoughts marched through her mind.

  Finally, she put in an offer on the land which was accepted by the government. The only terms were that she open a small camping ground to help service the nearby National Park. That one made her laugh. She put together a short proposal for two campgrounds. One for the public, and one on the southern slope to welcome the sun, for private members. It was accepted with days to go before the moon would rise. She said a silent prayer as she signed the papers that the southern slope, the furthest appropriate spot from the cabin she could find. He could still build a retreat if he wanted.

  She couldn’t have said if she was ready or not to go back to the Rom, when the time rolled around and the moon neared its fullest. She’d considered emailing the information with the location and permits to Donceanu at her legal practice email, but stopped at the last minute. This was something to be done face to face. If the Rom weren’t happy with her choice, she owed it to David to be there so he wouldn’t take all the blame.

  And if he hated her, she owed it to him to listen to whatever he had suffered in his other form.

  This time, the drive took longer and she found the people through coordinates sent by the grandmothers rather than sifting through a blog. It was quicker finding out that way, but not as fun as analyzing the rants of the Rom teen with David. The first hint of dusk darkened the late fall sky when she arrived at the Alexandria RV Park.

  There were fewer RVs this time, and they had parked in designated spots rather than in the circle formations she’d seen and planned for at the new campground. The Donceanu band had camped here, with the other bands going their way over the last month. At least she had fewer people to stare at her as she arrived.

  There was no one at the gate or office to speak with about a visitor pass, so she drove in and parked near the first RV that appeared to be Rom. Long and not exactly new, it clearly housed people year round or at least for extended periods of time. A kitchen had been set up outside despite the weather and a number of people gathered around a campfire to one side of the kitchen.

  With nothing else to guide her, Helen gathered her briefcase and walked over to the campfire. She’d gone back to wearing her familiar pencil skirts and blazers, power suits in bright colors, and heels. Probably not the best choice for walking over grass and dirt, but they were familiar and like a suit of armor they gave her a sense of safety. Probably a useless one, but she’d take what she could get.

  “Hello,” she called out. “I’m looking for the grandmother?”

  “Ah, but is she looking for you?” A man with a guitar in his lap called back.

  Helen sighed and then stepped sideways as the smoke from the fire drifted in her direction. Why did every time she meet one of these bands go like this? The Rom seemed to love a running joke. “Maybe not looking for me, but expecting me, I’d imagine.”

  “Mar, go and take the lady to the grandmother’s camp.” The man instructed a young boy. The youngster jumped up with an energy Helen envied after the long weeks of endless work. This needed to be over soon.

  The boy led her silently down the row of campers. People stared and some called out to him, greetings which he waved back to silently or ignored. A boy on a mission, a thought that brought a smile to Helen’s lips. Likely he imagined he was on some great errand to help his people. And in a tiny way, he was.

  If she understood the grandmothers correctly, having a new, dedicated spot for meetings would strengthen the bands that traveled their particular path. It would also strengthen their magic—something that seemed quite strong enough to her already—and give the wolves more freedom. That, she could understand. Running took space, and each wolf needed a territory that was theirs alone.

  She bit her lip as memories from the wolf of the way her place felt flooded her mind. The scent of the pines and the crunch of the needles under her feet, the rocks she’d found that sheltered a spot that might be good enough for a den. She shook her head and moved a little faster after the boy, Mar. The memories were pleasant but that would never be her place again, no matter if she longed for it and the feel of the run, the hunt in a territory of her own. David wouldn’t want her to be that near to him and it was his land.

  Soon, she would hand over the papers, free David and accept his anger. And she would take back the curse. She’d already put in her resignation at Multoma. Even changing once a year would make life different. And she’d discovered that that might not be so bad. Her father’s voice had faded since she’d spent time with David and even more because of her time as the wolf. Most people, Rom aside would never understand that power, that freedom; to live in the moment as the wolf and experience the taste, scent, feel of the world without human influence.

  With David despising her, and her new
desire to not work sixty hours a week, Multoma wasn’t for her. David would want to complete the arrangements she’d made in his favor with them, and she couldn’t face looking at him if he looked back at her with disgust or pity.

  She swallowed hard. Mar had come to a stop in front of a small camper. Sleek but not new, the silver sides and bullet shape made it stand out from the ones that surrounded it. A fire burned in front, but no one sat beside the burning logs. Mar pointed and took off, his short legs pumping back in the direction they’d come.

  It was only a few steps to the camper door, but they were hard to take. Once this was done it would only be a short time until she saw David again. Unless he didn’t want to see her. Suddenly that didn’t seem like a bad thing. But she had to be sure he was free before she left him, and he did deserve to have his say.

  Heart pounding, she walked to the camper and knocked on the door. Grandmother Donceanu pulled the door open and nodded to her solemnly. “Come in, Miss Mathews. We will have tea, and then I imagine you have some things to discuss.”

  Tea again. It seemed that every important discussion began and ended with it. “Thank you.” She stepped inside, where she was a little overcome by the vibrant color. Donceanu had hung silk scarves of every color over the walls, the benches and even over the kitchen cabinet doors.

  She caught Helen staring. “My trade, hand dyed silk.” She smiled. “What, did you think I sold charms or read palms for a living? Some of us do. But those of real power need to be careful not to let it run over into what we do in our day-to-day lives or we will have another Vlad at our doors, an evil one ready to take what isn’t his. The lust for power never ends.” She collected a beautiful pink silk from one of the benches and motioned for Helen to take a seat.

  “I have a place for you—”

  “Tut tut. Tea first.”

  She set out the cups and the strainers. Much like at Grandmother Eva Badi’s table, the scent of the tea felt like home. Admittedly, at least part of the tea ritual had to be a way to soften those making deals with the Rom grandmothers. Like a drink with the men. But it warmed Helen. These people were so little like she’d imagined. During her research for a new camp ground for them, she’d spent more time researching the people and their history. The seemed to have originated initially in India, but the Roma or Rom had spread to nearly every country, and many times were disliked and forced to leave.

  Perhaps it was the itinerate lifestyle. Or perhaps, she’d begun to speculate, it was the magic that kept them moving on their path. The urge to set down roots in any one place had been squashed over the centuries. Now, there were over a million of the people in North America, most in the United States.

  If she had realized all of this—aside from the magic, because there was no way for a modern person to believe in magic until they experienced it up close and personal—would she have completed the hospital development that had caused her so many problems? Probably. Her father’s ghost was still speaking to her then, telling her enough was never enough.

  Grandmother Donceanu poured the water over the tea and took her seat. “I trust your trip here went well?”

  Small talk then. Wonderful. Not what she needed when her stomach was tied in knots. When would she see David? “It was fine.”

  “No wolves nipping at your heels?”

  “Not a one since I left.” Apparently, Bianca Donceanu had a sense of humor.

  The older woman reached under her blouse and caught at a silver necklace. She withdrew it and pulled it over her head. She held the pendant piece in her hand, hidden from Helen’s view. She sighed and stroked it between her forefinger and thumb for several moments. Finally she set it in front of Helen. Then she picked up her tea, removed the strainer, and sipped.

  A wolf.

  Helen didn’t pick it up. She left it sitting there, a perfect little replica of how David had looked as a powerful creature of the forest, and picked up her tea. Mimicking the grandmother, she removed her strainer and sipped.

  Two could play the waiting game. For long moments, no one said anything. Then Bianca made a move as if to pick the necklace up and take it back. Helen laid her hand across the tiny metal sculpture. Although it appeared silver, it didn’t burn her. That part of the curse hadn’t left her when they took away her ability to shift. Even touching silver caused deep burns.

  “White gold.” Donceanu grinned and then took another long sip of her tea.

  Helen picked up the pendant and examined it more closely. Every miniscule detail was perfect.

  “It’s yours. Put it on.” A command from the grandmother.

  Helen grimaced, but carefully pulled the necklace over her head. It was so much heavier than it looked. The moment it reached the level of her chest, she sucked in air sharply. A blast of power blew through her with the air she drew in.

  “Your man is now free. You have back the power. But do you have anything for me? Or will I call Danior and tell him to begin the hunt?”

  Just when she was overwhelmed with what felt like generosity from the Rom, she was reminded of her true position. Helen pushed the remainder of her tea aside—surprisingly there wasn’t much—and picked up her briefcase. Carefully she withdrew the maps and plan that she’d developed for the Rom grounds.

  Donceanu studied each picture and map carefully. Shadows grew outside and lengthened into full darkness. Finally, she spoke. “Let me show you something.”

  Chapter 17

  The people have many paths over the United States. Some bands overlap in their paths, and there are times when several will come together for great meetings. But over the years we have lost many places where we could freely meet in any great numbers.”

  Donceanu rose and pulled a huge, antique appearing book from a cupboard beside the door. “This shows the path of all the bands, including ours.” She placed it reverently and gently on the table, despite its obvious weight.

  “No one outside our band has ever seen this book. Or even knows of its existence.” She opened the tome and turned the thick pages to the middle, where a map of the eastern and southern states lay spread across the double pages. In strange, shining gold ink ran the path that the Rom were so concerned with, the one that contained, or maybe generated, their magic.

  “The map is spelled, something not even the other grandmothers are aware of. Your new campground has already been added.” She pointed it out. “We knew change was coming. The path marked here hadn’t glowed for more than three years, not until you agreed a month ago to find us a new meeting place. What you have found will make us stronger than we have been in generations.”

  Helen leaned back on the bench. “I’m glad it’s what you want. I really never meant to hurt your people. And I think you knew that. So why did you do this to me? Why curse me?”

  Bianca closed the book and took Helen’s hand. “It was not a curse. I think, deep inside, you know this. The wolf is a gift, child. For the change I knew was to come.”

  “A gift. The most bizarre gift anyone has ever received.” Helen huffed out a breath and tried to stay calm. “Yes, I can see where the wolf is a great thing for some of your people. But look what’s happened to me and David! I’ve had to quit my job, he’s been gone from his company for a month…I don’t even know where he is or if he’s been all right. Danior could have been torturing him this whole time!”

  “Danior is not what you think. He is a leader of wolves. He does what is best for them. Rest assured he has taken care of your man the best way he knows how. He may be a little power hungry, but the new path will give him more freedom and more power and he will be satisfied until well after I am gone. The new grandmother can worry about him then. Your man will have learned under him and done well.”

  Helen tilted her head back and groaned. She’d never understand these people. “David isn’t my man. I’m sure of that. He was disgusted by the wolf, by the way I changed, so I can only imagine what he feels about me after a month of running on four feet.” She stood abruptl
y and gathered her briefcase. She couldn’t do it after all—face David and the emotions that were bound to be involved in meeting him again. God, she could barely talk about him. Her shoulders slumped and she fought to keep it together. “I’ll take your word about his wellbeing. I think it’s time for me to go. You have your path. He’s free to do as he wants.”

  Bianca’s lips thinned. She clearly disapproved, but staying just wasn’t an option.

  “Very well, although I didn’t take you for a coward. You will wear the pendant. At least once a year you will shift and remember what it is to be free. If you do not choose the time, the magic will choose it for you. Perhaps, if you listen to your wolf, you will come to your senses.”

  Helen ground her teeth together. Nothing like pouring salt in the wound. The Rom were a complex people, and their leaders… Well, she would likely never understand their motivations for what they’d done to her over the last few months. Time to go.

  The Grandmother stood and patter Helen’s arm. “I would ask you to have another cup of tea, now that we have finished our discussion, but I can see you will not stay for it. Goodbye, Helen Mathews. May your path be strong.”

  “Goodbye. I hope you do well, but forgive me if I have to say I hope we don’t meet again.” That was about the end of the civility Helen had left in her.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

  Helen opened the camper door and let herself out. The cool night air felt good after the close confines of the RV, but as she drew a deep breath in, the sound of wolf song, the long undulating calls to the moon and each other rang through the air. She practically raced to her SUV. Getting to it and getting out of the campground became the most important consideration, pencil skirt and heels be damned. Even the laughter of the Rom families she passed didn’t matter.