by Leela Ash
“Let go of her or I break your arm,” Finn clarified.
Her fiancé’s nose wrinkled with annoyance. Then he blinked, blinked again… and his eyes cleared. Revulsion vanished, replaced by horror. “Oh, Bree! Bree! I’m so sorry! I don’t…”
As Finn released him, he clamped his hands over his mouth. Her savior took a step back but hovered close, ready to pounce at the first sign of a threat.
Bruises lined her wrist. One for each of Daven’s fingers. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Her voice carried in the silent restaurant. Every pair of eyes were fixed on them and the incident.
“I don’t know. I don’t know why I…”
He reached for her – but not as fast as Finn. The big man’s hand snapped out and caught Daven’s halfway across the table. “Don’t touch her.”
“It’s not my fault! I don’t know what happened to me!”
Finn’s lip curled at that feeble excuse.
But Bree believed him. She’d seen that shadow – and that thing, whatever it was, that glared at her out of her fiancé’s eyes.
Not that anyone would believe her. Shaking, she wobbled to her feet. Instinctively, Finn caught her elbow and steadied her. Gallant, even in the middle of a confrontation.
“I’m leaving, Daven. We’ll talk later.”
On unsteady feet, she walked away from the trembling man. Finn followed her, keeping himself between her and Daven at all times. As they passed the maître de’, he produced a couple of hundred dollar bills. “For the mess. My apologies.”
Outside, in the sunlight and fresh air, her fear receded, like a bad dream. Bree wrapped her arms around herself, letting the bustle of life drive away the chill. Finn waited patiently, watching.
“Thank you,” she said when she finally stopped trembling.
“You’re welcome.”
What she wouldn’t give to throw herself in his arms! To let him hold her, promise her everything would be all right.
She didn’t do that, of course. And he didn’t invite it, either. Cool and guarded, he kept his distance. More like a bodyguard than a savior.
“Are you going to be all right?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine. I…” What could she say? The whole situation was mad.
“Thanks. Thanks again.” Lord, that was lame. But how could she explain how he’d made her feel? To know that a man would defend her, violently if needed. To feel his steady strength, his rock solid courage, backing her up?
“As I said, you’re welcome.” Not a drop of kindness warmed his words. He was cool, polite, and formal.
Head bowed, Bree turned and headed for her car. Leaving her feelings unspoken.
And Finn let her go.
Chapter 7
The Skyline Lodge was designed for relaxation. From the soft pastels of its walls to the luxurious carpet underfoot, every detail urged its guests to forget the worries of the outside world. Kick your shoes off. Hop in the hot tub. Pop open a cold one and just relax!
Finn wasn’t having any of that. Back and forth he paced, ignoring the breathtaking Teton view just outside his window.
Daven Kane was a worm. A slimy, cowardly, craven worm.
And that worm had stolen his Mate!
Livid with fury, his Dragon raged inside his mind.
We should have driven that thief off!
“I doubt that would have impressed Ms. Williams.”
It would have shown her how weak he is! He is not worthy of her!
Couldn’t disagree with that. But what his Dragon couldn’t accept was that it didn’t matter. Bree got to choose. And if she chose the worst man…
…She’ll be like every other woman I’ve ever thought I loved.
No, that wasn’t fair. Some of them were good women.
Women he’d failed to protect.
The memory of those disasters dimmed his Dragon’s outrage. Though, it still stewed.
We should lie out in the sun. Let her see our might and how the sun gleams upon our scales. Then she would choose differently.
Finn snorted with laughter. Oddly put, but his Dragon had something of a point. There were other ways to fight. Ways that didn’t involve beating the other guy to a pulp and carrying the woman off like a prized chunk of meat.
If he cared to fight for her. Which he didn’t.
The bottom line still remained: he didn’t want a Mate. Which made going through with the Rite of Claiming even more idiotic. He must have fallen prey to a bout of temporary insanity. That, or he let himself get seduced by Bree’s hot, tanned body. In either case, he’d screwed things up. Again. ‘Real’ or not, the Rite created a powerful link between the two of them.
The incident at Lafferty’s proved it. A Dragon always knew when his Mate was in danger. That’s what the stories said, anyways. Finn never believed them. He’d loved a dozen women in his long years and not once had he felt a supernatural urge to protect them.
Until today.
Until it hit him as he waited for a taxi. A burning certainty, a dread that drove his Dragon berserk in a heartbeat.
His Mate was in danger.
He knew where she was. How, he couldn’t say. But when that horror settled on his soul, he found himself sprinting through traffic, ignoring screaming brakes and blaring horns. The wound in his hip that had dogged him for months? Gone, completely, as if it had never happened. He tore through downtown Jackson at full speed, running as if his life depended on it.
Because it did. Her life depended on it and he knew, with a Dragon’s fierce passion, that he’d die before he let anything harm her.
Bree Williams truly was his Mate. The other half of his soul.
And she’d chosen someone else.
The buzz of his cell phone broke through that gloomy thought. A foolish hope flickered through his heart. Was it her? Would she call him back? Then he recognized the number and that ridiculous hope died.
Brandon Lorde. His Alpha.
“Good afternoon, Lorde.” The man might be his Alpha, but all Dragons were fierce, proud creatures. There would be no titles or signs of submission between them.
“Donnelly. I may need to recall you. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“What’s wrong?” Even as he spoke, Finn strode to his closet and snatched his shirts off their hooks. To him, ‘a moment’s notice’ meant ‘be ready NOW.’
Grim yet calm, Lorde gave him the worst news possible: “The Wellsprings are fading.”
“How?” he barked. “They’re supposed to be protected!”
“They are. Even mine is failing.”
That stopped him in his tracks. If the Alpha of the First Flight couldn’t protect a Wellspring, what hope was there?
“We don’t know what’s causing this. It started a couple days ago and it’s accelerating rapidly. At this rate, they’ll all be dormant again within the month.”
And just like that, all their hope would vanish. The Rite of Claiming… magic… his Flight’s renewed vigor and sense of purpose… all would be gone.
Finn pushed that weak thought aside. Nobody was giving up.
Especially not his Alpha. “Darian Morland and his Mate, Tess, are here now. She may be able to give us some unique insight into the cause.”
Tess Morland was some weird type of Shifter. An ‘Adanai’ or something like that. Finn was a little vague on the details. Normally, he just wrote her off as a strange Witch Hare.
“Is there anything I can do?” Magic wasn’t his strong suit, but he couldn’t stand to be useless.
“At the moment, no. When we uncover the cause, I may need you.”
“I’ll be ready,” he promised.
There was a pause, long and awkward. The kind of silence that often popped up when two men weren’t good at small talk. “Things progressing well in Wyoming?”
“Yes.”
A lie. But he wasn’t going to confess how horribly wrong things had actually gone. To admit that you found – and lost – a Mate… to a nothing like
Daven Kane…
No. He couldn’t do that. The shame would destroy him.
“Good. How’s the hip?”
“Good.” Surprisingly good, now that he thought about it. His little sprint through downtown Jackson hadn’t hurt at all. If anything, he felt better!
“Glad to hear it.” More silence. “Well, I’ll call if you’re needed.”
“And I’ll be ready,” Finn promised.
Chapter 8
With the TV blasting at full volume, Bree almost missed the doorbell. Quickly, she clicked off the set and peered through her peephole. Her stomach, roiled by the unexpected bell, settled as she recognized a delivery man from Flowers By Dana.
In his arms he held a dozen red roses, nestled in a crystal vase. Real crystal. Waterford, by the looks of it. Trust Daven not to skimp on any expense.
“Delivery for Ms. Bree Williams.”
“Thank you.” She took the form from him and signed.
“Where should I put them?”
“I’ll take them.”
She held her hands out for the bouquet, but he shook his head. “Lady, there’s a bunch more.”
She pointed him to the kitchen table. He deposited his burden. Then another… and another… and another. By the time he was finished, twelve dozen roses graced her kitchen. Each one perfect. Each one held by its own $100 vase.
“Somebody loves you,” the delivery man grinned as he dumped the last of these beauties.
That did seem to be the message behind this display.
Be nice. Flowers are a lovely way to apologize.
True. Yet, every time Daven showed his ‘feelings’ for her, she ended up marveling at the price tag, not his sincerity.
Though, she reminded herself, he had called. Four times. Swearing up and down that he had no idea what came over him at Lafferty’s. Begging her to forgive him, to give him another chance.
She’d agreed. Of course.
Because something had come over him, literally. And whatever it was, it followed her home.
When the delivery man arrived, it hid. But as the door closed behind him, the whispers came slithering back. Louder now, as if the flowers riled her unseen guests.
Quickly, she clicked the TV on. Once more, its incessant blare drowned out those other, more frightening sounds.
What the hell was she going to do? Sick with fear, Bree stared at the flowers. Flickers of white, like pale ghosts, flitted among them.
A sane woman would flee to her therapist. That’s certainly what she had planned to do.
Until today. Until lunch.
Now, she knew she wasn’t mad. Madness wasn’t contagious. She couldn’t infect Daven and make him assault her. His eyes and his crazy behavior were evidence that the world was mad – not her.
Which brought her back to the same old question. What now?
Curled up on her couch, with only the idiot noise of the TV between her and the ghosts, Bree decided to do the only sensible thing.
Get out.
“I must admit, I’m surprised, Ms. Williams.”
Perched awkwardly on top of one of her delicate kitchen stools, Finn’s square bulk was wonderfully calming. Her ghosts seemed to find him even scarier than the delivery man. The moment he walked through the door, her home returned to its own normal self.
“I’m not indecisive,” she said. “I thought about your generous offer and decided to sell.”
“Well, I won’t argue. What’s your price?”
She named a high figure. True to his word, he quadrupled it.
“Seriously?” Wealthy as she was, that extravagance still made her head spin.
“Yup. There’s only one condition.”
Ah, but of course. The deal was too good to be true. “And what would this ‘condition’ be?”
He leaned toward her. Intent, focused, and somber. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”
“Wrong?” She laughed nervously. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Those intense blue-grey eyes ignored her lies. “Nobody changes their mind this quickly.”
“Look, if you’re worried there’s something wrong with the house, the inspection will turn up any…”
He dismissed that with a sharp wave of his hand. “It’s you I’m concerned about, not the house. You’re afraid. Why?”
“Don’t be silly!” Her giggles sounded hollow, even to her. They had no chance of deceiving Finn.
“You seem to think you’re in danger… but you’re not.”
Okay, that annoyed her. “Oh, I’m not? And how exactly would you know that?” Just like a man, to presume he knew everything!
“I would, actually.” A glint of humor lit his serious eyes. “But since you’re not being honest with me, I’m not going to explain how.”
Whatever. Tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for either him or Daven. “Look, do you want this house or not?”
“Yes. But I want the truth too.” Suddenly, his eyes widened. He straightened, nearly tipping the little stool over. “Hang on. This thing… whatever it is that’s got you spooked. Did it start Saturday? Maybe out by that little pond we argued over?”
Bree’s jaw dropped. “How on Earth did you know that?”
“Ha!” He hopped to his feet, sparing her stool from further menaces. “Because there are a lot of other places like your spring. And they all started having ‘issues’ two days ago.”
Her thoughts reeled. Was there really a sane explanation for all of this madness? “Wait. Is the pool, like, volcanic or something? Is it giving off a gas?”
“Gas? No, why? Do you feel ill? Or are you seeing things?”
“No, I just…” She let that sentence trail off. There was no way she could confess this foolishness to him, a complete stranger.
Finn wandered to her windows. For a long moment, he stood, hands folded behind his back, staring out toward the woods where the pool lay. Bree let him think in peace. Frankly, she needed a little time to get her own thoughts in order too.
Finally, with a sigh, he turned to face her. “Ms. Williams, would you like me to tell you the truth? About why I want that spring so badly?”
“Yes. Of course.” The truth was always best.
“All right.” He drew a deep breath and stood, feet planted wide like a marine at attention. “Have you ever heard of Shifters?”
“Shifters? Um, no.”
“Grandma didn’t tell you any stories? You’ve never Shifted?”
“Shifted what?”
He rubbed his eyes and groaned. “Damn, this is going to be awkward. Okay, let’s try this another way. Do you believe in astrology… magic… UFOs… ghosts… anything like that?”
Bree shook her head. Her house might be full of ghosts but that didn’t mean she had to believe in them. Or confess to belief, anyway.
“Of course not.” A long, tired sigh escaped him. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to prove to you that magic exists. All right, would you step outside with me, please?”
Finn Donnelly was quickly slipping from ‘intriguing’ to ‘crazy’. “Why can’t you show me your ‘magic’ in here?”
“Because it’s big magic. Magic larger than a bus. Won’t fit well in your living room.”
Well, at least he wasn’t pulling a coin from behind her ear. Bree followed him out, keeping a safe distance between them. If he lost his marbles, she was bolting for Nielsen’s house. Her neighbor might be a jerk, but he was a safe jerk.
The sun had dipped below the western hills of Jackson Hole. In the evening gloom, she couldn’t read his face. “I’m probably going to make things worse by saying this,” he grumbled, “but don’t be scared.”
“So, this is ‘scary’ magic?” She questioned, glad she had sensible shoes on. The odds of a sprint to Nielsen’s seemed to be growing.
“Not to me, no. But the first time you see someone Shift, it can be startling.”
“Okay. Sure. I’ll try to stay calm during this… shifty magic.” Finn Donnelly was now officially
as creepy as her ghosts.
Her face must have given her away, because he gave a sour prediction: “This is going to end badly…”
Without warning, the air around him writhed. Curtains of energy, like heat waves on a summer highway, spilled across the lawn, twisting the universe itself. For a second, she lost sight of the man. He dissolved into white scales that exploded outward, filling the yard. Claws appeared, legs the size of trees and tipped with deadly talons. Wings unfurled overhead and suddenly, Finn Donnelly was gone.
A Dragon stood in front of her. Watching her with burning eyes like chips of glacial ice.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes bulged, staring. At that maw that could swallow her in one bite. At those claws, tearing into the lawn. At the sheer, impossible size of this creature.
Without warning, the dam holding her emotions back collapsed, releasing a flood of terror and adrenaline.
And as panic washed over her, suddenly, she was falling, shrinking as she tumbled to the ground. Fur burst out across her body. She landed on all four, a tiny creature dwarfed by the patio chairs. Long ears twitched once, then plastered against her body.
Her last sane thought was, Oh my God, I’m a rabbit!
Then sanity shredded as another voice screamed in her head.
Predator! Predator! Predator! it wailed.
Bree stamped a warning and fled in terror.
Behind her, a roar exploded. “Bree! No, wait!”
The beat of wings, slowly and ponderous, sounded. Instinctively, she zigzagged, fearing that, at any second, the predator would pounce upon her.
Trees! Cover! Flee!
There! Across the road! Trees!
Bree abandoned her evasive maneuvers and simply bolted, skimming along the lawn like a furry bullet. Across the grass, leaping the ditch, onto the road and…
Like a star going nova, the world exploded into light. An all-consuming brilliance that devoured fear, destroyed thought. Helpless, frozen, Bree stared at it. Unable to do anything as the light swept toward her.
She heard a screech of car brakes… and the predator pounced.
But not on her.
Chapter 9
Okay, that had gone badly – even for one of his notoriously awful ‘rescues’.
