Fated for the Phoenix: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 5)

by Isadora Montrose

  Samantha rolled her eyes. She was not going to quarrel with her mother in front of the mayor. “Yes, Mom. But this is my whole life. And Carmody’s. How are you going to feel if Rafael and I get divorced?”

  Mom tossed her head, although the effect was lost as her tight bun didn’t allow a single stray hair. But the expression on her face grew graver at this new peril. “Unicorns don’t divorce,” she said faintly.

  “Now, Araminta, let’s not start Samantha and Rafael’s marriage with ill wishing,” interjected Robin.

  She took both Samantha’s hands in hers. “Hmm. I can feel that your right hand is injured. But not permanently. Rafael has a long journey ahead of him. And so do you. You loved him once, will you risk his death? Or will you marry him and fight for your happily ever after?”

  Put like that, Samantha had no choice. Robin’s green eyes were wise and kind. Samantha trusted her. Mom was too agitated to give good counsel today. Maybe marriage would help Mom accept her granddaughter. Or not.

  Robin waved a hand. Samantha’s day-old T-shirt vanished. So did her blue jeans. A white bustier and white lace panties and pale stockings held up with lace garters replaced yesterday’s grungy clothes.

  “Lace?” asked the fairy. “Or chiffon?”

  “Chiffon,” Samantha said, as Mom cried, “Lace.”

  Another casual wave of that dainty hand. Robin conjured a tall mirror on a stand. “What do you think?”

  Samantha’s waist was cinched in, her ivory skirts fluttered out in a froth of delicate fabric. The scooped neckline decorously skimmed the top of her breasts. A narrow gossamer ruffle added interest to the neckline. Her dog tags and Rafael’s ring made an incongruous contrast as they dangled over the gauzy white fabric.

  “It’s a little plain,” murmured Robin. She traced a line around Samantha’s shoulders. Delicate lace replaced the chiffon ruffle, or at least embellished it. “And around the hem.” Lace trim brushed the floor. Her dog tags and ring vanished.

  Samantha blinked, disconcerted by the speed that things were happening. But the lightning fast changes were an improvement. No wonder Robin was always the chicest woman in Mystic Bay.

  “I think a sash,” Robin suggested. “Purple?” She waved her hand. In the mirror a wide deep purple satin sash circled Samantha’s waist.

  “Too much contrast,” sniffed Mom.

  “I agree,” said Samantha.

  “Lavender?” Robin changed the color.

  The sash exactly matched Samantha’s disheveled ponytail. Robin smiled. “An updo?” she asked. “Or curls over your shoulders?”

  Samantha was too fat for curls bouncing over her jugs. “An updo,” she said shyly.

  Robin waved a hand, passed her fingers over Samantha’s eyebrows, darkening them to a deeper shade. “You look lovely. Doesn’t she, Araminta?”

  Samantha peered at her reflection. Tiny ringlets danced by her ears, while the bulk of her hair was twisted into an elegant braided coronet from which a few curls trailed.

  “It’ll do,” Mom said reluctantly. “But she ought to have a veil.”

  “In a moment.” Robin waved her hand. The updo vanished. Soft curls floated around Samantha’s face and waved over her shoulders.

  Mom gasped. “You look – wanton.”

  Did she? Or did she just look a little bit sassy?

  Robin chuckled delightedly. The merry noise was a faint peal of ethereal fairy bells. She waved her hand. A lace veil secured with a wreath of baby’s breath and white rose buds covered Samantha’s lavender curls and hung over her shoulders. It drifted over her fully made-up face.

  “What do you think, Araminta? With the veil, doesn’t she look as innocent as a bride should?”

  “I suppose so,” Mom conceded as if Robin had dragged her approval out with a hook.

  “Your turn, Araminta,” Robin said briskly. “A suit or a long dress?”

  “A suit, if you please. Plain. Some dark color.”

  Robin waved a hand. Mom’s tall, curvy frame, which was so like Samantha’s, was instantly encased in a tailored taffeta suit. A line of small silver buttons ran down the front of the jacket, but the skirt was plain. The jacket nipped in at the waist and flared out in a small peplum over the A-line skirt. But far from being dark, it was the same lavender as Samantha’s hair.

  Mom glared at herself in the mirror. “I look like mutton dressed as lamb,” she complained.

  Robin laughed again. “No, you don’t. You look beautiful.” She waved her hand again and transformed her own dark pants and blouse into a trim purple suit. Her pumps were dark gray. And her French twist sparkled with pearls. “Samantha, would you like lavender shoes or white?” she asked.

  “Lavender, please.”

  “Done.”

  The bride in the mirror didn’t look in the least like lumpy Samantha Belfast. She looked, well, bridal. Subtly sensual. Voluptuous rather than fat. Robin handed her a bouquet of white rosebuds and green ferns tied with a lavender ribbon.

  “Be happy, dear unicorn,” she said. “Araminta, I think we should wear orchids.” She waved her hand and matching corsages of white orchids streaked with violet bloomed on her breast and Mom’s.

  “Are we ready, girls?” the mayor asked.

  “I’m still wearing my boat shoes,” protested Mom.

  “So you are. Gray like mine? Or lavender like Samantha’s?”

  “I will match Samantha,” Mom said as resolutely as if she was about to be martyred. Robin provided her with lavender flats.

  “May I have my ring back?” asked Samantha.

  “Certainly.” Robin held it out, mysteriously removed from its long chain. “But I think it belongs on your finger.”

  “Shouldn’t I have gloves?” Samantha asked. “So I can safely take Rafael’s hand.”

  Robin sighed. But she added long white gloves to Samantha’s ensemble. She breathed on the amethyst and diamond ring and it easily slipped over Samantha’s gloved finger. “Are we ready?” she asked.

  Samantha drew a deep breath. “Yes.”

  Bells tinkled. Rafael’s bedroom door opened. He came out. Mom gasped. With his military bearing, Rafael looked imposing in his dress blues. But with freshly trimmed hair and a shave, his face looked even more deeply scarred. Like Samantha’s, his hands were gloved. He stared straight ahead and moved where Sully’s hand on his elbow guided him.

  “Aren’t you even going to look at your bride?” demanded Mom fiercely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Mystic Bay,

  Robin~

  “That went better than I expected,” Gordon leaned back in his new recliner and laughed. He took a pull at his mug of beer. “I don’t know when I’ve done a better morning’s work.” He buffed his nails on his chest and winked at her.

  Right after the ceremony, he had gone off to conduct the first whale-watching tour of the day, so this lunch break was the first moment they had had to talk over the wedding.

  Robin looked around Gordon’s living room and admired her handiwork. The pale walls and new furniture had removed all traces of Gordon’s late wife. Much as she missed her sister, Nightingale, she had found it creepy that her lover had maintained his house as a sort of shrine to his late wife.

  She sipped her own glass of sherry. “I thought that considering our haste and the venue, the wedding was lovely. And I think the match is a good one.”

  Gordon’s laughter was a boom of thunder. “What it was, my love, was comedy gold. Starting with Araminta Belfast.” He sipped his beer and lowered his voice to a falsetto. “Aren’t you going to look at your bride?”

  “She simply hadn’t noticed before that Maj. D’Angelo was blind,” Robin pointed out gently. “And it came as a shock.”

  Gordon slapped his knee and drank deeply, still chuckling. “I thought the silly wench was going to forbid the match then and there.”

  Robin enjoyed her lover’s mirth for a long moment. “Fortunately, Parsifal stepped up and halted Araminta’s outburs
t.”

  “It was a stroke of genius for you to take us outside into the Old Forest. I just wish Rafael could have seen the white starflowers blooming wherever Samantha trod. That was a sight to behold. Kudos to you for thinking of it.”

  Robin raised both shoulders a quarter inch. “A bride deserves to feel special. Maj. D’Angelo might not have been able to see the flowers or his bride, but he could hear the music of the pipes and tambourines, even if he couldn’t see the dryads playing the instruments. Phoenixes are particularly attuned to music.”

  “It was a beautiful ceremony. But I will treasure forever the moment when Parsifal told Araminta that it was time to bless the union of their daughter. I don’t know how I stopped myself from hooting.” Gordon slapped his knee and laughed until he had to wipe tears from his eyes.

  Robin regarded him indulgently. “I think Araminta was just distressed at having to shift into unicorn in public. Public nudity is not her thing.”

  “I closed my eyes,” said Gordon indignantly.

  “Then you missed the screen I created for her. I had not previously witnessed a unicorn wedding. I didn’t know that the unicorns shifted and danced at the end. I thought that Araminta and Parsifal’s dance was delightful, especially considering how thickly the trees grow and how small that clearing was. They put on quite a show.”

  “Too bad poor Rafael couldn’t see it.”

  Robin corrected him gently. “Two white unicorns bowing and curveting in that restricted space were an astonishment, but Maj. D’Angelo didn’t need his eyesight to be healed. The blessing happened whether or not he could observe them dancing or see his in-laws’ flowing manes and tails, and flickering hoofs. And he certainly felt it when they crossed their horns over his heart.”

  “I thought he might faint,” Gordon said thoughtfully. “That was strong psi. Particularly when Parsifal’s horn turned from purple to gold. I swear he transmitted some threat to that boy.”

  “I detected only good psi in the air,” Robin said approvingly. “Certainly Parsifal was using telepathy. But whether he was threatening or healing, I couldn’t say. It was far more disturbing that Araminta didn’t really join with Parsifal.”

  Gordon sighed. “She isn’t truly in Rafael’s corner.” He drained his mug. “I’m going to have another beer. Do we have anything for lunch?”

  “I brought a meal from the inn,” Robin said. “I didn’t want to go out, and I figured you had had no time to shop.”

  “Dang straight. More sherry?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a full glass. He raised it in a toast to her. “To the most wonderful officiant in Oregon. Are you ready to make an honest man of me, my love? We have gotten Rafael and Samantha married, and you promised.”

  She smiled up at him. “They are married, but not mated,” she reminded him. “We still have work to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Reynolds’ cabin

  Rafael~

  It had been an odd day. Odd all around. The ceremony had been moving, but oddly wearing. And just plain odd. He had not touched his bride, except to take her gloved hand in his. Samantha had pulled a ring off her finger and given it to Robin who had handed it to him. Weird that he could touch the officiant, but not his bride.

  The ring had felt familiar. And it had gone onto Samantha’s gloved ring finger as if it could shrink or expand at will. He had not wanted to interrupt the proceedings to ask questions. But he had wondered plenty.

  It grieved him that when Robin had said, “You may kiss the bride,” he had felt Samantha’s instinctive recoil. He had brushed just her gloved fingers with his lips, and she had relaxed with relief. Helluva marriage they were going to have if his wife couldn’t bear to be touched.

  Samantha had been quiet after the ceremony, barely breathing, even after her parents had taken unicorn form and stabbed him in the chest. At least Parsifal had. Araminta had barely touched his skin, and her thoughts were actively hostile. But clear as a bell. At any rate, after the ceremony, the wedding party had departed almost immediately, leaving him and Samantha alone.

  At which point he had discovered that his uniform was indeed temporary and had to scuttle off bare-assed naked to get dressed in his own clothes. When he rejoined Samantha, she was on the phone having a long chat with someone named Claudia and then with the kid. He had lain down on the couch to rest and fallen asleep almost at once.

  Now the day felt far gone. Samantha was once again on the phone. She hung up and he felt the air move as she walked towards the couch.

  “How do you feel?” she asked gently.

  “Better. I didn’t expect to just flake out after the wedding,” he apologized.

  The cushion beside his compressed. She spoke into his left ear. “It wasn’t the ceremony. It was Dad. He gave you a shot of grace.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a unicorn thing. He pierced your skin and gave you an infusion of grace.”

  He still felt clueless. But decided to leave it. “And that made me tired?”

  “In your condition. But you look better. And you haven’t taken any meds since yesterday. How do you feel?”

  He took stock. “Hungry. But not depressed. No headache.” And his knee barely hurt. “What time is it?”

  “Just after seven. I made dinner. Well, I reheated it. Do you want to eat?”

  Suddenly he could smell chicken. “I’m starving. Thank you.” He might as well. It was too late to call his lawyers to sort out the money.

  “So what’s the plan?” he asked when he had half a hot chicken pot pie inside him. “Are you going to hang around here? And what about Carmody?”

  She chewed in silence for a long time. Swallowed. “I will stay tonight and leave tomorrow afternoon. Claudia and Ryan Rutherford, who are friends of mine, are taking care of Carmody until Sunday evening.” She sighed softly.

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Claudia and Ryan are good parents. Their son is one of Carmody’s best friends.” But she sounded dejected.

  “Does she often stay over with them?”

  “Never,” she admitted.

  “Are you finding the separation traumatic?”

  “Yes.” She chewed steadily. Swallowed. “Carmody, on the other hand, is reveling in having a playmate on tap. I understand that they have been playing hide and seek since Friday afternoon.” Her cheerfulness sounded forced.

  Clearly Samantha was sad that her daughter didn’t miss her. He rummaged around for some consolation. “I think that’s a sign that she is confident in your love,” he said.

  “I guess. But she is totally offhand.” Another deep sigh.

  Some fine wedding day, with the world’s saddest bride and a groom who couldn’t stay awake.

  “Aren’t you having any pie?”

  “I’m a vegetarian,” she replied surprised.

  “Oh. A unicorn thing? Or personal preference?”

  “Unicorns are grazers. We only eat plants. I’m having salad.”

  “I hope you don’t mind watching me eat meat.”

  “Not unless you try to put me on the menu.”

  “I think I’d enjoy eating a unicorn,” he said after a moment or two.

  She gasped, and then he could have sworn she blushed. Except how could a blind man tell? He was off his meds. Probably hallucinating. Again. Should he tell her? Probably not.

  “What did you do while I was passed out?” he asked instead.

  “I did the breakfast dishes. Cleaned the kitchen floor. Made up the bed in the spare room. Took a nap myself.”

  Be still my heart. Total dissipation. “I’m sorry your honeymoon is such a bust.”

  She chuckled softly. “So’s yours if it comes to that. I think we should talk about what we are going to do after tomorrow.”

  “I could join you and Carmody in Mystic Bay,” he suggested. “Sleep on the couch or in the spare room.”

  “No. Carmody would
want to hug you. She is only three and she just wouldn’t understand why she shouldn’t touch her father. She knows that kids hug their dads and ride on their shoulders and so on.”

  Millard Fillmore. What a lot of crap. The kid was not only a unicorn but a phoenix. Samantha was still in denial.

  “Right. What about the drugs? Think I should stay off them? I understand that the latest medical protocols call for slow titration over several months. No cold turkey, in case going off them triggers a relapse.”

  “You’re a shifter. The rules are different for all of us with paranormal talents. Your aura seems far livelier without them. And your color is better. Although that could be Dad’s grace. I simply don’t know. It could be going off the psychotropics, or it could be unicorn healing. I think you should see Dr. Peterson again.”

  “Okay. But that leaves us short a plan for the next few hours. Meds? Or no meds?”

  A long pause filled with soft chewing. “Since I’m here, let’s risk you going without them. Provided you feel all right?”

  “Better than I have in years,” he said.

  It was true. Sitting across from Samantha, breathing in her delicious feminine scent and eating food she had prepared for him was a pedestrian activity. But it felt normal. Normal and utterly satisfying.

  “Only I forgot about my parents. And my brothers and sisters.” He groaned. “They’ll be totally pissed that I got married without them.”

  “Will they?”

  “Sure. Sully said we’d have to do it all over again, and I didn’t know what he meant. But he’s absolutely right. I’ll have to get you another ring too, to replace that one. Where’d it come from anyway?”

  She cleared her throat. “You gave it to me when you asked me to marry you.”

  “If I gave you a ring, why didn’t my family know I was engaged?”