Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella

by Cecilia Dominic

  “It sounds like you took care of a big problem for us,” the pale wizard, who had still not given us his name, said.

  “Ja,” the Austrian—whose name was, coincidentally, Arnold—agreed. “If we had known he practiced the blood magic, we would have sent reinforcements. I am impressed with your quick thinking, Miss Marconi.”

  “Thank you.” Relief at knowing where Aunt Alicia had ended up released the rest of the band of tension around my chest. Max squeezed my hand.

  The pale wizard only smiled and murmured, “It will be interesting to see what the lycanthropes think of you, Miss. You do know you’ll have to present yourself to them, right?”

  “No,” I squeaked. I don’t know if I can face a bunch of lycanthropes knowing what I am and the threat I could pose to them.

  “We do have someone who can help you,” Arnold told me. “His name is Peter. He is an American wizard late come into his powers, and he has been spending time among the European lycanthropes.”

  Max glanced at me. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes.” I smiled at him. “I can handle him.”

  “Good, we will send him along, then,” Kurt said. They all stood. “We won’t impose on you for lodgings, and thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Are you sure you want to involve Peter?” Max asked after they left for a neighboring island with an airport big enough to accommodate their private jets.

  “Yes.” I snuggled into his side. “He has tried to be helpful, and there really is nothing between us anymore.”

  “Good,” he said and pulled me into a full hug. Then we did things on the couch in the library that Carrigan would not have approved of.

  Bless his heart.

  29

  Six months later

  Joanie’s daughter Lissa looked up at me, opened her mouth, and let out a wail that would ring in my ears for weeks.

  “Loud baby,” Wolf-Lonna moaned. “I’m going to disappear for now.”

  “Go ahead,” I told her. “I’d like some privacy with my friend.”

  “I don’t think she likes me,” I said and handed the wriggling infant back to her mother.

  Joanie, her eyes ringed by dark circles, laughed and soothed the infant with a bottle. “She wakes up hungry, even more so than normal babies. I just can’t keep up.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with supplementing. So you’re sure she’ll end up being one of us?”

  “Iain’s done the tests, the lycanthropy gene is there, and she’s got all the early signs in the book Peter sent me from the Lycanthrope Council.”

  She looked at me, and I could tell she was gauging my reaction to hearing Peter’s name, which didn’t give me any sort of emotional reaction beyond polite interest.

  “Wow, you are truly over him, aren’t you?” she asked.

  I smiled at the sapphire that sparkled on my left ring finger above the platinum band. “He was just a practice run for the wizard I was supposed to be with. I’m glad he’s being helpful.”

  She snorted. “If I had Arnold looking over my shoulder, I’d be cooperative, too.”

  I’d told her the entire story of my intentional and unintentional travels including meeting the wizard version of the CIA and learning their infrastructure. In the months since all that happened, I’d met several more, and none had been creepy like Henry or condescending like Carrigan. In fact, they’d been relieved to speak with a lycanthrope who had enough of both bloods to act as a liaison, and a new treaty was in the works.

  Apparently things had been tense since the attack on the beach, which had been masterminded by Henry, we later found out. He hadn’t wanted Deirdre to marry Max, so he hired a group of werewolf mercenaries to disrupt the party. They’d gotten out of control in their blood lust and killed his sister, which he hadn’t anticipated or wanted. That had been the final push to his seduction by blood magic.

  Max and Leo walked in from the yard outside, where Leo had been showing Max the architectural features of the new Wolfsbane Manor. The workmen completed it just in time for the arrival of Leo and Joanie’s daughter.

  “You have a lovely home, Doc. I mean Joanie.” Max sat beside me and put his arm around me.

  I leaned into Max to kiss him on the cheek. He turned his head so my lips found his, and his kiss thrilled me to my core.

  “Oh, stop it, you two.” But Joanie sounded more amused than annoyed, especially after Leo gave her a full-on smooch as well. All trace of discord between them had disappeared. Joanie had told me once the men went outside that Leo had improved greatly since my visit in February.

  Just as it had previously, the living room looked out over the front lawn and down to the woods around the drive. I fought a sense of déjà vu, and I noted the absence of the resentment that had previously plagued me. Leo poured drinks from the bar in the corner, but I refused his offer of Chardonnay.

  “You’re not one to say no to a glass of wine,” Joanie said and raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you need to tell us?”

  “I wanted to wait until Max was with me to tell you. Nothing’s certain yet, but I suspect Lissa might have a playmate in about eight months.”

  “Cheers to that,” Leo said and raised his beer bottle. Max clinked his glass of bourbon against it.

  I didn’t want to get into the specifics or speculation as to the possibilities of a wolf/wizard baby, so I asked, “How is the CLS cure going? I heard that the Lycanthrope Council approved it but you’re stuck in the FDA.”

  Leo shrugged. “As expected, they’re getting caught up on the non-medical aspect of it. It’s kind of hard to describe blood magic in scientific terms in the procedure section and explain why only one person can do it.” He inclined his head toward Max.

  Max bowed slightly. “I wish it could be more, but it corrupts too easily. I would have to find another wizard with the strength to resist the temptation to use it for more than good, like trapping the soul of a loved one here until they can find a new vessel.”

  I shivered at the memory of Deirdre trying to take over my body, and Max squeezed my shoulders.

  A knock on the door startled us, and Leo got up to answer it.

  “We’re not looking for a butler,” he said to whoever was at the door with a slight growl in his voice.

  “That’s random.” Joanie frowned. “I wonder who it could be.”

  Leo came into the room followed by someone I thought had disappeared: Gabriel McCord, former butler and almost lover to Joanie, and the man who helped me indulge my animal side the morning after my first change. My cheeks heated at the recollection. I could now access all of the memories of the time around my transformation, although I tried not to dwell on it too much.

  “Gabriel?” Joanie asked.

  He bent to kiss her cheek and admire the baby. “You look well.”

  Introductions were made all around. Leo offered him a Scotch and gestured for him to take a seat in the armchair farthest away from Joanie.

  “I apologize for interrupting this cozy scene,” Gabriel said. “But I’ve been trying to get a hold of Miss Marconi, and I happened to be in the area.”

  “Yeah, being with an energy wizard is hell on cell phone batteries,” I said and held up mine, which was off most of the time now.

  “What do you need with her?” Max asked. He knew what had happened between me and Gabriel, but he accepted our one-time dalliance was a result of a new werewolf not being in control of her urges and didn’t seem threatened.

  Gabriel crossed an ankle over one knee and frowned like he was trying to figure out how to phrase something important. It was strange to see him sitting still. He’d been constantly in motion with his duties the previous summer. It occurred to me that being the butler had allowed him to hide in plain sight, and we actually didn’t know anything substantial about him.

  “You’re not really a butler or a professional research subject, are you?” I asked.

  “No, I’m on the Lycanthrope Council,” Gabriel said. “
Always have been. As the youngest member, I have the pleasure of investigating strange or unusual lycanthropic matters throughout the world.”

  “You lied to us?” Joanie asked. “I suspected something when you disappeared.” Leo put his arm around her and raised his chin. The meaning of the gesture was clear—he came back and claimed her.

  Gabriel inclined his head. “I had a lot of reporting back to do, particularly on the new strain of lycanthropy from the tainted vaccines, or what you refer to as CLS.”

  “I knew we had to have attracted some attention, but you’d insinuated yourself into my grandfather’s household even before the fire and all the news around it,” Joanie said. “How did they know?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “Blame the Internet. Somebody saw something suspicious and talked about a pack of talking wolves on a Bigfoot site. We’d watched your grandfather for years prior to that report but didn’t intervene, as long as he was a lone wolf because that happens every so often. When the others arrived, however…”

  “You had to do something,” I finished for him. “A new werewolf pack would have attracted unwanted wizardly attention.”

  “You’re quite right. So fast forward to last month, when the Council received your letter, Miss Marconi—”

  “That’s Mrs. Marconi-Fortuna,” Max said.

  “Oh, congratulations.” He raised his Scotch to us. “This bloke seems much nicer than that Peter prick. Anyway, the Council reviewed your letter and agreed there needs to be some sort of support for the new werewolves, either to help them adjust to their new situation or to return to their former state. Considering Mrs. Marconi-Fortuna’s background in social work, they have invited her to head up that effort.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I didn’t think they’d take me seriously.”

  “They feel that, as a vargamore and with your background, you would have the best chance of calming new wolves, helping them make rational decisions about whether to accept their new state or reverse it, and then steering them to the proper resources. They just want to know whether you will be the first subject once the cure goes into clinical trials.”

  Max’s concern showed in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell if he was afraid I’d say yes or no.

  “No,” I said, and he relaxed. “I’ve decided to embrace all my sides, and I’m willing to help others to do so as well. Or to transition back.”

  “Excellent.” Gabriel slugged the rest of his Scotch back and stood. “Then I shall leave you to your gathering and report back to the Council.”

  “It sounds like you have a new job,” Leo said after he saw Gabriel out. “You’re going to be busy. Iain sends me emails about new cases daily.”

  “She won’t be doing it alone,” Max told her. “She has me.”

  “And she’ll have us as well,” Joanie added.

  “And me,” Wolf-Lonna added. She appeared and put her head on my knee.

  “Do you think you can handle being part of a werewolf pack?” I asked Max.

  “I already am,” he replied, and his kiss erased any doubt I might have had.

  For the first time since I’d been changed, I felt comfortable with who and what I was. I looked around at my friends and husband—my pack. Perhaps I’ll get my happily ever after.

  Wolf-Lonna wagged her tail and expressed what I’d already thought deep inside.

  “You already have.”

  Volume Three

  If someone had told me two years ago that I would have three books out in thirteen months, I would have told them they were crazy, and if they could make it happen, I would owe them big. Well, it happened, and I need to thank several people.

  First, to the readers who took the chance and picked up a brand new author in the crowded urban fantasy/paranormal world, thank you! I couldn’t have done this without you. Whether we interact online or in person or only through the characters who inhabit my imagination and now yours, I’m so grateful you’ve allowed me to share this experience with you.

  Second, if I have anyone who’s been a fairy godmother in this process, it’s my wonderful Samhain editor Holly Atkinson. She challenges me and makes my work the best it can be. Kudos also go out to my critique group—Amy, David, Kimberly, and Susan—who help me get my words right and make sure I’m not missing any bodies by the end of my books. Thank you all for your patience and feedback!

  Third, to Amber my awesome adminion who keeps me sane and organized at the office, I couldn’t have done all this without you.

  Fourth, I have to thank my family, especially my husband Jason for his caring and support. Whether it’s due to me stressing out over proposals, meeting deadlines, or marketing, he’s always there with a big hug and an appropriately calming beverage.

  Finally, I would like to dedicate this book in loving memory of my Italian grandmother Cristina Rose, an avid reader who wrote a book once upon a time but never pursued a writing or publishing career. I’m grateful for the genes, the support while you were still with us, and the continued prayers from Heaven.

  Front matter formatting same as The Mountain’s Shadow.

  New Blood’s Shadow ISBN: 978-1-945074-14-1

  New blurb: he disease has teeth…but the cure could be deadly.

  As Investigator for the Lycanthrope Council, I went above and beyond my official title to keep werewolf kind out of the public eye, which was harder than you’d think. Now I have a new challenge as the liaison to the Institute for Lycanthrope Reversal, advocating for humans turned werewolf against their will.

  The Institute’s controversial “treatment” is nonetheless generally accepted – until one of the project’s scientists is found murdered at his desk.

  The suspect list is long: purists who believe lycanthropism is a non-returnable gift; wolf-borns who want the cure for their own; and the ethereal Selene Rial, an Institute psychologist who’s lost her most precious possession to a secret society dedicated to the annihilation of werewolves.

  If I fail to solve this case, the fragile peace between wizards and lycanthropes could shatter, and my friends’ lives could be ruined. But even if I succeed, I have to face the consequences of my heart being pulled in a dangerous direction – a woman whose dangerous secrets could destroy us both.

  Warning: A little blood and gore, a little swearing, a little more consensual adult sex, a wee dram of Scottish spirits (okay, lots of wee drams), and Scottish food. If you have to ask, you can’t afford the calories.

  1

  I noticed the blood first. Earthy and metallic, its scent wove over and under the olfactory texture of the clinic, a red ribbon among the blues and greens of antiseptic and rubber glove. If it had been any other clinic, and I had been any other type of man, I might have dismissed it or processed it with only mild curiosity. But here among my fellow predators at the Institute for Lycanthropic Reversal, the spilling of blood in the quantities I sensed meant someone had made a deadly mistake.

  As Lycanthropy Council Investigator, I was accustomed to fixing mistakes, and I thanked whatever gods may be watching that I had come on this official Council visit instead of one of the others.

  “Mister McCord?” The woman’s voice startled me and brought my attention back to the human part of the brain, mostly ruled by the visual.

  I was glad to be back in the realm of sight, and my impressions resolved into a lovely picture. The voice came with high cheekbones with a dusting of freckles, large gray-blue eyes, and long dark red hair pulled back in a ponytail. I could even forgive the flat American accent—which stood out to me no matter how often I heard it here in my home country—particularly as it came through pale pink lips pursed in inquiry.

  “And you are?” I turned on all my Scottish charm, mindful that, as a former colleague had said, “American chicks dig the accent.”

  “I am Doctor Selene Rial, one of the psychologists.” Her tongue rolled the r just enough to make me focus on her mouth and her full lips before she took my outstretched hand. She leaned in and again surprised me, this
time by giving me the customary sniff of our kind’s greeting. On our facial cheeks, lest you think I’m being crude. Her scent brought to mind a vivid image of a waterfall in the humid twilight of the American Southeast in summer and a lithe red wolf watching its broken reflection in the ripples of the pool below. I wondered, as usual, what she caught from mine.

  Whatever she saw, amusement and concern flickered across her face when she stepped back. “It is an honor to have you here. We haven’t seen much of the Council since the Institute’s ground breaking ceremony.”

  I inclined my head. “I am pleased to be here. But tell me, has there been an accident? I smell blood.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you? I don’t think anyone has spilled any today. We fired the tech who dropped the sample tray last week.” She bit her lip. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

  I would have been charmed by her guilelessness had I not been distracted. “Perhaps we should investigate,” I suggested, struggling to hold on to my patience.

  “Follow me.” She led me through the door and to a stairway on the left. The smell diminished to just the barest hint such that I wouldn’t notice it if I wasn’t looking.

  Lonna Marconi-Fortuna, the Institute’s co-director and another werewolf, met us in the hall with her husband Doctor Max Fortuna, wizard and other co-director, at her side. The tension eased in my chest when I saw them. They had been my main concern.

  “What is it, Gabriel?” Lonna asked when she saw my expression.

  “Can you not smell it?”

  She shook her head. “No, but your senses are better than ours—just one of the many ways how those of us who were changed by the vector differ from those of you who were born with CLS.” She wrinkled her nose. “But now that you mention it, something smells off.”