Shifters Hallows Eve

by Lori King

  Or him…

  She felt his shock, heard the knife hit the floor, and recognized Duke’s warning growl a split second before Kyran’s hands were on her shoulders and he was demanding, “Whit did ye juist say?”

  Focusing on both the angry dragon and the snarling German Shepherd, Caitlin ordered, “Down, Duke.” Before adding in a softer tone, “I’m okay. Kyran won’t hurt me.” To the dragon, purposely ignoring his question, she challenged, “Am I wrong?”

  His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her arms. It was obvious he was trying to intimidate, not harm her. His breath brushed across her cheek as he took several deep, calming breaths. She could feel him looking into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze was a warm caress, making her wish she could look back at him with the same intensity, make him see the truth of her words. But that was not to be…so, instead she waited.

  When Kyran finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth, and his hands shook where they still gripped her arms, “Na, nae wrong, but how dae ye knoo?”

  Squaring her shoulders, working hard to ignore the sparks of their connection skittering through her body, she calmly explained, “I know what you’re thinking. Can feel your suspicions, but you couldn’t be more wrong.” She paused, wishing again that she could see. Something she hadn’t done in years. It would make things so much easier if they could look into one another’s eyes and he could see that she was telling the truth, but that ship had sailed long ago. Now, it was all up to Kyran and that damned thing called Fate. He either would or he wouldn’t. She didn’t have the dreadful feeling of death filling her soul. Didn’t have the need to wail and call the reaper, and because of that she powered on, pouring everything she felt into her words. “I’m a banshee…well, part banshee and part gypsy. Dad’s family was from Romania and still practiced the old ways – magic and fortune telling, a few evil curses on their enemies- you know, the good stuff.” She snorted with the hopes it might ease the tension.

  Yeah, fat chance…

  “Mom, she was the banshee, like I’m guessing your mom was.” She felt the tension increase in his hands and could ‘see’ the turmoil in his mind. The visions of his mother from his childhood were vivid and filled with love and happiness. Unfortunately, an all-encompassing darkness quickly swallowed the light as the gut-wrenching sadness of her death washed away his short-lived joy.

  His memories broke her heart. She saw a young wavy-haired boy sitting on the highest ledge of a huge mountain overlooking the ocean, as the waves crashed against the shore and lightning streaked the turbulent sky. Tears filled her eyes as the child contemplated diving into the icy waters with the hopes of finding his mother in the afterlife. This man’s suffering had started at such a young age and only intensified as the years passed.

  Rushing to explain, Caitlin rambled, “So, as luck would have it, when you mix a gypsy and a banshee, you activate what the Celts call the An Radharcna Beatha Agus Bás, or as I’m guessing you already know, the Sight of Life and Death. What it means is that when I come in contact with someone, I can see the highlights of their life… Although I must admit, I get more from you than anyone else I’ve ever touched.”

  No sooner had the words left her mouth, then Kyran’s hands were off her body and she heard him step back. Unable to hold back her laughter, Caitlin chuckled, “It’s a little late now. I’ve seen it all.”

  Biting her bottom lip to stop any further giggles, she added, “I mean, it’s not like I saw you naked or anything. Your memories, mostly the ones that had the most impact on you at the time they actually happened, just run through my mind like a movie on fast-forward.” She shivered at the absence of his touch, her arms instinctually wrapping around her own body, trying to restore the warmth lost when Kyran backed away. “I will admit it’s the first time images have actually jumped out at me like the ones involving the O’Baoill’s did, but I’m guessing that’s because of our shared history with them.”

  The fact that she could still feel what he was feeling was disconcerting. Usually, the transference stops as soon as the contact stopped, but not with him. With Kyran, only the images disappeared, the emotions remained just as strong as if they were her own. The need to console him, to make him understand beat at her, forcing her to add, “Of course, there’s one big difference in our situations. They thought I was dead. I never had to endure their torture.”

  She felt his nearness before the sound of his boots striking the tile floor registered in her crowded consciousness. The question floated through his mind before he whispered, “Thay thought ye wur dead?” The tips of his finger touched the scars on the side of her face. “Thay did this tae ye?”

  Electricity shot through her body like lightning, her nipples pebbled against the soft silk of her bra, her body warmed and the proof of what Kyran made her feel wet her panties. Clenching her thighs together to stem her excitement, Caitlin fought to speak past the lump in her throat. It took several tries, during which she simply nodded as he continued to trace the lines across her cheek and the bridge of her nose, that more than one person had described to her over the years.

  The longer he touched her, the more visions of the man whose touch made her feel things she never thought possible filled her mind. She already knew he was much taller than her five-foot-seven frame, from the downward direction of his voice when he spoke to her. Probably six-foot-five or six was her guess. It was obvious from the way he’d held her so tightly without pain that he was incredibly strong but possessed the ability to control it, and she’d imagined his body in detail but soon found her imagination did his well-toned physique no justice.

  From the slightly out-of-focus and wavy appearance of the memory, Caitlin knew he had been looking at himself in a creek or a lake or some kind of water. His disgust at what he saw had her reaching for him without thought. She smiled to herself when he didn’t back away.

  Guess we’re making progress… Good grief, he’s gorgeous…

  It didn’t matter to her that his dark hair was tangled or matted. Or that cuts, bruises, and scars covered every inch of exposed skin. What mattered was that he had fought to survive every day for more years than she could fathom, with the sole purpose of defeating his enemies and saving not only his own kin, but all the shifters the hunters and wizards were using for their heinous experiments.

  The grim determination in his dark-gray eyes was a testament to his fortitude. The set of his broad shoulders carried the weight of his convictions. The marking of the majestic dragon that covered the expanse of his massive chest and flowed across his six-pack abs mirrored the vision she saw of him actually soaring among the clouds.

  “Oh, my Goddess,” She gasped, using the image in her head as a map for her fingers to outline the glyphs still raised upon his skin.

  “Whit is it?” He grumbled. His fingers halting their progress along her hairline.

  “The...these markings. Have you always had them?”

  “Na, wis her doin'?” Kyran growled.

  Tracing the symbols, the words danced through her mind, filling Caitlin with dread and apprehension. The hair on her arms stood on end and her heart raced. The words were out of her mouth before she could think. “These are killing you!” She slapped her hand against his chest. “And your dragon. They are draining your magic. We have to get them off.”

  She spun around, reaching for the drawer where she kept her father’s grimoire. Thankfully, Marcie, her nurse who was also an Earth witch, had taken the tome to her coven, had it translated into Braille years ago, and Caitlin had been studying the magic of her heritage ever since. Unfortunately, in her exuberance to help Kyran, the banshee forgot her previous steps forward, so instead of laying her hand on the drawer pull, she found herself falling forward. Bracing for impact, Caitlin held her breath and turned her head to the side. Her heart froze in her chest as she murmured loudly, “Please, not another broken nose.”

  A masculine chuckle cut through her fear and warm arms wrapped around her waist as she was
pulled up against Kyran’s chest. His low snicker rumbled through her rattled nerves. “Na brooken noses th'day. Tis much tae bonny a nose fur that.”

  The warmth of his body soaked into hers, and for a few brief seconds, Caitlin forgot where she was, who she was and, what she’d been doing. All that mattered was that she never wanted to leave the haven of Kyran’s arms. Their hearts beat as one. He held her even closer to his body as she heard his inhale and saw the images of daffodils and sunshine surrounding the picture of her he’d conjured in his mind.

  “Aye, lass, if oonly…” he breathed into her hair.

  Leaning her head back she cooed, “If only what, mo Dragon…”

  In the blink of an eye, Caitlin was spinning within Kyran’s embrace and his lips were on hers. He demanded entrance, which she granted immediately. It was as if they were meant to be together. Her soul recognized its other half as joy filled her entire being.

  His tongue slid along hers. Their fiery connection solidified. She felt pieces of herself, her soul, ones she hadn’t known were missing, slide into place. His thoughts were her thoughts, his feelings her feelings. It was chaotic and explosive and wonderful. Caitlin was caught up in a whirlwind of sensations that pushed her out of her comfortable little dark world into a place full of light and sound and…love.

  Love?

  Her thoughts were confusing, but her body knew what it wanted and would not be denied. As Kyran continued to feed at her lips, Caitlin shoved her hands into his long, dark, tangled tresses, holding him to her, never wanting their embrace to end.

  Kyran’s hands slid from her waist onto her bum, kneading and squeezing until the proof of her arousal wet not only her panties but the inside of her thighs. Needing more, wanting all her dragon could give, Caitlin moaned low in her throat as she rolled her hips against the proof of his arousal, pleased when he growled in response.

  She could feel not only the man but also the beast’s desire building alongside hers. The banshee within her called to that part of Kyran needing to wail for something other than death for the first time in her long life.

  Wrapping her legs around his waist as the black dragon lifted her off the ground, Caitlin deepened their kiss. Her fists pulled at his hair. Her tongue danced with his, ran along his teeth, reveled in the taste of the first man she’d ever truly kissed.

  Lost to their passion, the banshee moaned at the loss as Kyran tore his lips from hers, gasped for air and then immediately kissed along her jaw and down her neck while setting her on the counter. His hands immediately slid under the soft cotton of her blouse. The rough callouses of his fingers raised goosebumps on her skin as sparks of their attraction raced through her body.

  “Oh, mah banshee, whit ar you doin' ta me?” He groaned while continuing to lavish her neck with his lips and teeth.

  Unable to answer, Caitlin could only feel. Kyran’s hands on her skin, his lips upon her neck, it was all so amazing, so overwhelming, just like all her dreams… only so much better. She never wanted it to end. Unfortunately, Fate had another plan, for in the next heartbeat, Duke barked, the doorbell rang and Kyran used his incredible speed to set her on the floor and take several steps toward the door.

  “Stop right there,” she shouted at the sound of Kyran’s retreating footsteps, not meaning to sound abrupt but still trying to get her bearings.

  She heard the shuffle of his feet indicating he was turning around before he grumbled, “Ah’ll nae be meetin a'body else this night, Caitlin.”

  Holding her hand out in the direction of his voice, she assured, “I understand, but please don’t go.” She knew she was pleading and hated the sign of weakness, but there were so many things she and her elusive black dragon still needed to discuss. It was her greatest fear that he would walk out her door and never return. His kiss had opened her mind and shown her their destiny, the one they were to experience together.

  She could feel his indecision. His desire to stay with her, battling against his warrior’s need to not be seen. As a last ditch effort, she begged, “I promise I’ll make it quick. It’s just Marcie, my nurse. I completely forgot she said she was bringing back the coffee and juice she left at the store earlier today.” Taking a step forward, she asked again, “Will you please stay, Kyran? For me?”

  A long-suffering sigh preceded his grumbled response, and she imagined him scratching at his beard. “Ah just knoo ye'll be th' death o' me, Caitlin Brookes.”

  Not waiting for him to change his mind, the banshee quickly turned, laid her hand on the counter and called, “Come, Duke. Door,” a second before the doorbell rang again followed by a loud knock and a hollered, “Caitlin? You okay in there? It’s Marcie.”

  Holding onto her furry companion’s collar, she let him lead her to the front door as she answered, “Coming. I was in the kitchen taking supper out of the oven.”

  Opening the door, Caitlin tried to smile while listening to make sure Kyran didn’t attempt an escape. “Hey, Marcie.” She reached for the bag she could hear rustling then sighed when her nurse and friend stepped around her, entered her home and said, “Hey to you. Just dropping off this stuff that I forgot at the grocery. Need any help with dinner?”

  Shaking her head, Caitlin stepped back and closed the door before holding out her hands and saying, “No, I’ve got it. I think Duke and I are gonna have a quick sandwich and then make an early evening of it. I’ll take the groceries and you can get on with enjoying the rest of your night off.”

  “You sure?” Marcie asked, her tone suspicious.

  Faking a yawn, Caitlin sighed, “Yep, it’s been a long day. We’re beat.” Then as an added measure, she fluffed the fur at Duke’s neck and cooed, “Right, boy?” to which he yipped.

  I love you, my big furry hero…

  “Well, all right, if you’re sure.” Marcie’s tone was still full of doubt, but Caitlin sighed in relief when she heard the door open and her friend continued, “I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend. Call me if you need me.”

  “I sure will,” Caitlin chirped, sounding overly happy even to her own ears.

  Reaching for the door, she waved as the heels of Marcie’s shoes struck the concrete path leading to the driveway. At the sound of her nurse’s car door opening, Caitlin smiled and called out, “Be safe. Have a good weekend. Thank you again.”

  Waiting until she heard the car start and the roar of the engine disappearing into the distance, Caitlin slammed the door shut, slid the locks into place, turned around and commanded, “Duke, kitchen.”

  Moving as quickly as she could, Caitlin stepped over the threshold of the kitchen just as the cool breeze of the outdoors touched her face. She knew he was gone but called his name anyway, “Kyran?”

  The dark, sad silence that followed made her heart hurt and forced her to count the steps to her table, plop into the chair and put her head in her hands. The sounds of Duke’s nails clicking against the tile floor echoed in the silence as her one true companion closed the back door that her dragon had left open during his hasty retreat before returning to her side.

  Letting her hand drop to his neck, she ran her fingers through his fur and asked no one in particular, “Why did he have to leave? Why do they always have to leave me?” Wiping the one tear she allowed to fall from her cheek, the banshee added, “How will I ever tell him that he is my mate if he won’t even stay for dinner?”

  3

  Sitting in the same spot, under the same stupid tree, Kyran watched the woman he now knew to be his mate, looking sad and alone. He could feel her disappointment in the pit of his stomach. Knew he had caused it. Knew he’d been a coward to leave, but was sure he had no other choice.

  They were connected now as only mates could be and when he should have been happy, Kyran feared for Caitlin’s safety. The black dragon closed his eyes and sought to control both his temper and his need to go to his banshee. His fists dug into the earth, wet from the dew as he continued to kneel and watch the one whose soul called to his.

 
Gritting his teeth, he growled to himself, “Whit kind o' sick Universe does such a thing? How cuid ye give a lass whoose lost sae mooch tae mate such as me?”

  Caitlin was beautiful, inside and out. She had a pure heart and soul that wrapped its warmth around his cold, dead heart and made even his dark, barren soul believe there was a chance for happiness. Why would Fate be so cruel? Why would he, the one they called the Phantom, the dragon able to kill without touch, be shown the one person in all the world created for him? One so perfect she made him ache with need, made him believe in a happily ever after on the other side of all the darkness and death that surrounded him.

  Pounding his knuckles into the ground, he saw the tear slide down her cheek. His heart seized in his chest as her voice cracked when she spoke to Duke. He fought to breathe as her loneliness and disappointment washed over him. “Aye, lass, ye'r better off wi'oot me.”

  He sat for hours and watched. Long after she’d turned out the last light, he stood guard, not sure if he was protecting her or putting off the inevitable devastation of leaving her orbit. Finally, when the first rays of dawn peeked over the ridge, Kyran started the sad, lonely journey back to his cave.

  One foot in front of the other, counting his slow, even steps, he climbed the trail to the highest ledge and for the second time in his very long life, watched the waves crash against the rocks contemplating how he’d disappointed the one person in all the world who could save his tortured soul. Hours passed. The sun rose high in the sky, glittering off the water with its fool’s promise that everything would be okay. And even as it scorched his skin, Kyran sat still, staring at the dark water, wondering if perhaps he should simply end it all.

  “But ye woud oonly save me if Ah jumpt wouldn't ye auld laddie?” He spoke aloud to the dragon who shared his soul as he laid his hand over the marking he’d had since birth.

  The evil glyphs surrounding his dragon pulsed against his palm as Caitlin’s words echoed through his mind, “These are killing you! And your dragon. They’re draining your magic. We have to get them off.” He remembered the fear in her voice and the determination upon her lovely face as she almost fell flat on her face trying to save him.