Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella

by Cecilia Dominic

  “Almost there.”

  “Look, I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this, but it’s supposed to be a family cabin. Meaning you kids are supposed to take turns, not squat there for years.”

  I ground the words out one at a time. “I’ve been sick. I tried to leave, but it didn’t work out.”

  “No more excuses. You have a week. If you need somewhere to land, the house on the Massachusetts coast is free in October. Your father isn’t doing well enough to go this year, as much as he loves the Salem festivals. Plus, you’ll find more opportunities up there near a big city than in the woods.”

  That was how my mother did peace offerings—give, take, and offer unsolicited advice—and I knew it was all I was going to get. “Fine.”

  “Good. I’ll send you the information. And, Kyra, we do love you, but you need some tough love. You’re driving yourself crazy in those mountains.”

  I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and tried to focus on it to stop the nauseating sensation of my world dropping out from beneath me. “That seems to be the consensus.”

  The old Kyra could have handled the northeast with no problem. But now? How long would it be before I broke down completely?

  The weather didn’t help my mood when I arrived at Logan International Airport in Boston. My nose was stuffed up from the airplane pressure changes, and the low clouds spat a misty rain that I knew would wreck my dark hair into a cloud of frizz even if I pulled it back.

  Suddenly my strategy of pretending this trip was a new triumphant beginning—well, allowing my mother to bully me into it in the first place—seemed the dumbest thing I’d ever done. Second dumbest thing. The first, of course, was letting my doctor talk me into the contaminated flu shot that gave me CLS. Okay, this would be the third dumbest thing, the second being pursuing Leo Bowman, who’d dropped me for someone less attractive but smarter.

  Well, maybe the fourth…

  I was so caught up in my self-recrimination, having documented at least six instances of my stupidity by the time I wheeled my small suitcase outside, that I missed the Salem shuttle by a few seconds. The next one wouldn’t be for another hour.

  I cursed to myself, particularly since the rain blew sideways in hard wet drops, finding the cracks between and below the departures drive above. Just my luck, the terminal was under construction, so I’d had to walk to where there was a gap in the cover to find the shuttle. I blinked the water from my eyes, not caring if it was tears of frustration or raindrops. So what if I arrived at the coast looking like a frizzy wet rat? It wasn’t like I needed to impress anyone.

  A large black car swerved to the curb and found a puddle, splashing the gray suede ankle boots I’d indulged in just before leaving Arkansas. Of course I hadn’t checked the weather. I cursed, this time not under my breath, at the driver and stepped back to inspect the damage.

  Unfortunately I didn’t look behind me and bumped into something solid, which I bounced off of, twisted an ankle, and landed straight on my ass, soaking my designer jeans.

  No, I wouldn’t be making a great impression on anyone soon.

  “Why don’t you watch—oh, Miss Ellison. What are you doing there?”

  I looked up into the hazel eyes of Jared Steel, billionaire and the man who was supposedly the world’s most eligible bachelor. At least he had held that title when I’d done business with him, but the lack of a ring on his hand told me he had likely not been snatched up yet. Plus, even in my isolation, I was pretty sure I would have heard something if he had paired off.

  He held out a hand and lifted me easily to my feet. His driver picked up my bags and tossed them into the trunk of the car. I kept my purse.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. I’d met him on a few occasions in my old life and found him to be as handsome, charming, and sexy as gossip made him out to be.

  Jared gestured to me, and his mouth twitched like he tried not to smile. “Well, obviously since I’ve ruined your boots, soaked your jeans, and knocked you on your ass, I’m going to have to at least buy you dinner to make up for it all.”

  “Thank you, but no.” I walked to the trunk and tried to keep the driver from closing the lid on my stuff. “I was on my way to grab a rental car. I have an important meeting on the coast.”

  “Then let me take you. It will be more comfortable than driving yourself, and you can get out of your wet clothes.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “I’m not interested in that kind of ride, Mr. Steel.”

  His dimples showed when his lips reminded me of how his smile had always threatened my resolve to not mix business with sex. “I meant I’ll take you to my condo first, let you change, then take you to the coast. Please let me do it to make up for this harsh welcome to Boston. I can also lend you a car while you’re here.”

  “Going to your condo sounds equally suspicious.” But the water was seeping into my underwear, so his offer sounded quite tempting. All I wanted was a hot shower and a good meal. And dry undies, which would be easy to find in my little suitcase. I was thankful I’d carried on, whereas before I was missing my large wardrobe and multi-piece set of matched designer luggage.

  “Don’t worry, my sister and brother are there. Cindy will make sure nothing happens to you. You can trust me.” He gave me that crooked megawatt smile that graced the covers of magazines and the front pages of websites that pretended to be about news.

  Jared Steel was known to be a gentleman without even a whiff of scandal around him, but still… He might have good people for damage control.

  Meanwhile, an uncomfortable chill, damp sensation was creeping up my ass crack. My mother always said that wet underwear muddles a girl’s thinking. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t talking about rainwater, but…

  “Thank you,” I said and tried to seem my old haughty self. “I’ll take you up on that offer to grab a quick shower and to change clothes.”

  2

  Showered with Attention

  Just my luck, Jared wasn’t kidding about his brother and sister being at his “condo,” a two-story townhouse tucked away in the Back Bay area. His twin brother, Ted, was slightly taller and lankier with lighter hair—brownish rather than blackish—but he had the same hazel eyes and heart-stopping smile, although there was a definite quizzical air to it.

  “And who’s this?” he asked.

  “You remember Kyra Ellison,” Jared said. “She runs that modeling agency in the Midwest. We poached some of her girls for reps when you were still with the business.”

  “Ah, right.” Ted had the courtesy to look sheepish. As I recalled, I’d had a few choice words for the brothers when I’d found out, but I was glad for the girls now. Pushing drugs was a much more secure career choice than modeling. Or running an agency.

  “Jared, stop gloating. Can’t you see the poor girl is freezing?” Their sister Cindy was cute and petite and disgustingly nurturing and positive—everything I hated in other women.

  Still, I had to appreciate how she saved me from any more conversation by bundling me up to the bathroom and settling me with towels before leaving me to shower in the world’s nicest bathroom. Fine, I’m exaggerating. The queen of England might have had more real estate where she takes her royal dumps, but this place was impressive with its smooth marble and black and white tile accents. Plus the shower had two, three, no four heads counting a handheld one. After being in the cabin with its ridiculously small water heater, I was in heaven. I could almost forgive Jared’s snarky comments.

  Whatever. If he was going to save me from a two-hour drive with a wet bottom, he could gloat. Those girls and all the others I’d mentored worked for someone else now, anyway.

  Oh, right, he thinks I’m still the old Kyra.

  It took me a moment to remember who the old me was. Someone confident and assured. Someone for whom the loss of new suede boots wouldn’t mean much, only that I got to go shopping again. Someone who had more than one pair of designer jeans and could afford to throw the o
ld ones away.

  I didn’t realize I was twisting the soft, thick washcloth into a tight cylinder until I heard something tear. I looked down to see I’d ripped a hole in it. Damn that lycanthrope strength. It sneaked out at inopportune moments—like this—and was a constant reminder of what I’d lost and the act I now had to put on.

  I finished my shower, dried my hair, and put on what I hoped was a chic outfit of khaki pants, blouse, and cute jacket. All of them had come from bargain shelves or consignment stores. The boots were likely a loss, but I took them with me anyway. Maybe I could brush out the suede once it dried so it wouldn’t look too bad from afar. The only other shoes I had were sandals—definitely weather inappropriate—and my sneakers.

  Sneakers it would be. I couldn’t pretend forever.

  After repacking, I wheeled my suitcase out to the upper foyer. Before I could lift it to take it down the stairs, Jared came out of the room across the hall from the master bath and said, “Allow me.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I told him.

  “It’s my privilege.”

  He hoisted the bag like it weighed nothing, and I followed him down the stairs. He wore jeans now, and I couldn’t help but admire his nice ass as he descended in front of me.

  “Thank you for letting me freshen up,” I said. “You have a lovely place.”

  “No problem. I’m sorry again for ruining your boots.” He set my suitcase by the front door and took out his wallet. “Will three hundred dollars cover them?”

  That was what they had cost new, but they’d only been fifty at the Crystal Pines consignment store. I’d watched them until they’d been marked down enough to afford. I couldn’t make myself tell him, though.

  He misunderstood my hesitation, pulled out three more hundred dollar bills, and handed me six hundred dollars. “Here, this should hopefully cover the shoes and the jeans. Again, I apologize.”

  As much as I didn’t want to, I tried to push the money back at him. “You’re being much too generous.”

  “I remember you’re a woman who drives a hard bargain, but can we call ourselves even?” That smile again, but this time with an endearing sheepish element. He wrapped my fingers around the bills. “If it’s too much, go have dinner on me. I’ve messed up your plans enough.”

  “Thank you,” I stammered, and I put the bills in the pocket in my purse where my wallet resided. I’d never had any trouble expressing myself before, especially not to someone with whom I did business. What was wrong with me? And why did I feel guilty for taking money that would allow me to eat while I was there when the pity money my parents had given me ran out?

  That was it—I hated for people to feel sorry for me. Joanie had pitied me as she’d stolen Leo from me. Then her snotty friend Lonna had felt the same—I had seen it in her face when we talked. I kept myself from snapping at Jared but asked myself what the old Kyra would do. She’d have a hell of a lot more poise than I did at that moment, and that pissed me off even more. I wanted to shove the money back at him and escape from the memories of what I’d once been.

  “You’re very welcome,” he said. I remembered how six hundred dollars was pocket change for people like him, as it used to be for me. He added, “Are you sure you can’t stay? I’d love to catch up, see what you’ve been doing. It’s been what, four years?”

  “Positive, and it’s been a while.” I had to get out of there and away from his smile and charm.

  There was something wistful in the way he’d asked me to stay, like he was also missing something from before. Part of me wanted to confide everything to him and turn into a blubbering mess on his broad shoulder. Then he’d really feel sorry for me.

  Plus the teasing camaraderie he had with his siblings reminded me of the rift between me and my brothers. We’d never been that close, and then their girlfriends and wives had become the sweet, compliant daughters my parents had always wanted. Now I was the difficult child and the screw-up.

  And the outcast. I almost cringed at the sense of the guillotine of time hanging over me—Halloween was my deadline to find something up here and start a new life for myself.

  “That’s right.” He tapped a finger on his upper lip. “You’d become ill and had to sell your agency. I was sorry to hear that.”

  “Me too.” I needed to escape from this conversation.

  “But you have business on the coast. That must mean your health has improved.” He rubbed his eyes, which struck me as odd. “That’s good—if you don’t have your health, you don’t have anything.”

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  He shrugged, but his smile had lost some of its wattage. “Just a headache. Nothing to be concerned about, but I’m afraid I can’t take you to the coast as I’d planned.”

  I usually tried not to draw on my lycanthrope senses—no reason to encourage them—but I took a surreptitious sniff. There was something odd under his masculine odor of aftershave, soap, and detergent. Not cancerous or deadly, just odd. Then the congestion, which had cleared in the shower, returned before I could analyze further.

  “I hope you figure it out soon,” I said and meant it. There was something comforting in knowing the world as I remembered it still existed for some people, even if I was jealous of them. “It’s hard to step back and take care of yourself.”

  He nodded, and his face assumed the charming business mask I knew well. “Well, I don’t want to hold you up anymore. I’ve had a car brought around for you. It’s one of my older ones, but it should run well.”

  Again, that careless wealth produced twin stabs of annoyance and envy in my gut.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. If your man will give me a ride back to the airport, I’ll take the shuttle.”

  “Nonsense. I’m not using it. This way I don’t have to pay to park it and it’ll save you some money. Take it as a favor to me.” He opened the door, and the driver came inside and grabbed my suitcase. I picked up my purse and smaller bag and tried not to resent him for assuming I needed his help.

  “I’d really prefer a ride back to the airport since I don’t know what my parking situation will be once I get to the house.”

  “A house? You’re moving here?” His eyebrows flagged his interest, and I bit my tongue.

  “Thinking about it.”

  “Ah, a woman of mystery, as always. I’ll have Edwin take you to the airport, then.”

  “I can’t take that much advantage of your generosity.” I lowered my eyelashes—dear gods, where had that come from? The old Kyra was trying to come out and flirt with him. “I can take the train.”

  “Let me at least do this for you. And call me.”

  My brain tried to resist and end the interaction then, but my traitorous tongue tripped out my phone number almost of its own accord.

  He programmed my number in his phone and texted me his. “Good. And keep me in mind for dinner sometime. I’m scouting locations outside of the city for a new office, so I’ll probably be up your way. If you need anything, text me or call my assistant.”

  Cindy walked out of the kitchen and looked up, seemingly surprised to see us. “Oh, are you leaving already?”

  “I’m afraid I have to. Business awaits,” I said. “I should get back to the airport to catch the Salem shuttle.”

  “Oh, I’ll drive. It will be good to catch up.”

  “Thanks, Cindy.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, pressed a business card into my hand, and escorted me to the waiting Jaguar. He held the passenger side door open as I got in and closed it once I was settled.

  The car was already running and was warm, and I ran my fingers over the supple leather seat.

  Good lord, I remember luxury like this.

  I hoped my smile seemed genuine, and I waved to him as Cindy pulled away.

  “It’s such a nice surprise to see you again,” she said and merged into traffic. “It’s been a few years.”

  “Yes.” I didn’t really want to talk, so I looked out of the window at the
cute boutique shops and fancy restaurants.

  Would I ever be able to afford them again?

  “Jared talked about you after that one party, but then things got busy with the company, and you disappeared. Some sort of health problem?” Her tone conveyed concern, but I didn’t take the invitation.

  “Yes, my life took some unexpected turns.”

  “That’s too bad. Well, now that you’re here in the state, we’ll have to have lunch sometime. Do you know when you might be free?”

  “No idea, sorry.” I tried to give her a rueful smile but feared it came out as more of a grimace. “Things are still pretty up in the air.”

  “Oh, no worries. I’ll get your number from Jared and be in touch. Oh, there’s my favorite stylist—they have the best deals on products the last weekend of the month…” She chattered on about various stores and other places, and I managed to half-pay attention and half-wish for the encounter with her chipper self to be over with.

  Arriving at the airport was a relief.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said.

  “You’re very welcome! Have a great trip up to Salem.”

  When she pulled away, the stuffiness in my nose released with a torrent of mucous, and I had to dig in my pockets for a tissue. I appreciated her treating me the same as she would have before my illness and disgrace, but it highlighted the difference between life then and life now. I kept it together until I got on the Salem shuttle.

  But when I hit the highway, I didn’t try to stop the tears of grief for my old life. The old Kyra was still in there wanting to emerge—why wouldn’t she leave me alone?

  Once I left the city, the clouds broke up and revealed the kind of blue sky that only happens in autumn. Whereas the leaves in the Ozarks were in their early autumn show, the trees in Massachusetts put on their full autumn pageant with yellows, reds, and oranges. I wished I could enjoy it, but my mind kept playing over the encounter with Jared Steel.