Witch Fire
By L.A. Borgaard
Copyright 2011 L.A. Borgaard
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author
CHAPTER ONE
Blood, blood and broken glass. Samantha woke screaming, terrified by the savage work of her own hands. The smell of death permeated the room, filling her senses, threatening to push its way into her mind with snaking tendrils, dripping with the poison of her own awareness. What had she done?
The reading lamp that rested on the night stand crashed to the floor, sending fine fragments of glass across the wood as she scrambled to turn on the light. Where was the damn switch? The overhead light came on, a blinding glare searing into her eyes. Pale sage walls, oak floor, all but the broken lamp was in its proper place; her hands were clean.
It was a dream, just a dream. The nightmare, so vivid upon waking, faded to a distant shadow.
A haunting scream filtered in through her bedroom window, drawing her eyes to the closed drapes. She stood silent, listening to the sounds of the mountain lion as he called. Did he know what she was? Did he know the horror of what she’d done? Was that the reason for his screams? But then, how could he, when she herself didn’t know.
She felt suddenly exposed in the white light pouring from the ceiling; naked, for the world to judge. She slapped at the switch, turned it off. Silence. She waited. He screamed again, nearer, and nearer still. He would not quiet until she showed herself, whole and safe. Her protector, her guardian; why he had chosen her, she didn’t know.
Dressed in an evergreen tank top and black boxers, Samantha slid the patio door open and stepped out. A still quiet stole over the night as she walked to the edge of the steps and made her way down to the back lawn. She stood a moment at the edge of the grass, relishing the warm fingers of a summer breeze as it caressed her fair skin and pushed through her thick, dark auburn hair. A reflection of light showed itself in the darkness of the brush at the far edge of the lawn. He had come closer than ever before, much closer.
Samantha lifted her eyes heavenward. The night sky was filled with a multitude of brilliant stars, glimmering brightly in all shades of color and she lay down on the thick grass, taking in their beauty. She loved the clear nights of summer in the Colorado Desert. Out here, lying under the open sky, the ground beneath her and stars above, she had peace. Under the watchful gaze of the cat, she lay still thinking about the day she first set eyes on him.
* * *
It was on one of her desert hikes that she’d come across his prints and followed them to his resting spot. Intrigued by the sheer size of him, a full seven foot from head to tail, she’d sat down in the sand to watch for a while. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there, long enough for her butt to go numb, waiting for him to turn his head in her direction. Something told her his eyes would be amber, but when he did turn his head, she was both disappointed and exhilarated. His eyes, butter-cream gold, were the eyes of a shape shifter. Rather than startle him with her presence, she chose to leave quietly, undetected, but left enough of her scent for him to track her home. And he did just that, though he remained hidden in the distance, out of her sight. Throughout the next two weeks her senses picked him up, lingering close, watching her. And in the night, when the nightmares woke her, his screams would pull her outside to finish her slumber in peace on the soft bed of the lawn.
* * *
Samantha closed her eyes and sighed as sleep took her.
Morning came and she woke to a nearby rumbling sound. Rolling to her side, she opened her eyes wide at the sight of the cat so close. He lay there, stretched out with his back to her, a gentle purr rising from his chest. With no thought or hesitation, her hand stretched out to stroke his tawny neck and side. He twitched, but did not move to leave, and soon his purring grew louder in her ears. As she lifted her shoulder from the ground and stretched farther, her fingers stroked his cheek and a brilliant glimmer shone throughout his body. And he was no longer the lion, but the man.
He rolled to his back and she found herself staring down into the depths of the most gentle eyes she had ever seen. Captivated, she held his gaze and began to read into his memories, his desires, but backed away when she felt the soft touch of his hand at her breast.
“There is pain,” he whispered and brought his hand to her face, her hair, to the edge of her eye.
When he withdrew his fingers, wet with tears, she stared at them in astonishment.
“You cry in your sleep.”
“Every night?” she asked, her eyes fixed on his fingers.
His feathery touch grazed her cheek. “Why do you hurt?”
Samantha looked back down at his face, into his eyes once again. He was young, so much younger than she had imagined, maybe nineteen or twenty. Within his eyes she saw a shadow of grief, but it was overlaid by such a magnitude of compassion and love that she doubted he was aware of its existence. She pulled her gaze from reading his eyes to his face. Dark blond hair framed the smooth skin of his cheeks and chin. He was angelic in his innocence with a sweet mouth that she had the sudden urge to kiss; she had been alone too long.
A quick, sharp, stab of pain went through her heart and she hissed, closing her eyes against it. His hand moved to her hair and she was pulled to his chest, her ear pressed against his skin. The steady beat of his heart working its way deep into her mind, into her soul, soothed the pain within her. When the pain retreated, back to the recesses of her soul, she sighed and opened her eyes.
Mistake.
“Oh, damn,” she said and pushed away from him, jerking her head around and snapping her eyes closed.
“What?” he asked as he sat up in surprise. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s just... you don’t happen to have a pair of pants somewhere close, do you?”
“Oh.” A small smile played at the corner of his lips. “No, I’m afraid not. I haven’t been with another person for quite some time.”
“Wait here.” Samantha got up and ran into the house. When she returned a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a tan t-shirt, he stood on the lawn with his back to her. An involuntary groan escaped her as she looked at his naked back. Smooth, golden skin stretched over long lean muscles throughout his six foot two frame. She wanted to run her hands along his body, discover every contour of unyielding flesh.
“No!” she shouted as he began to turn. “Stay there, I’ve got something for you to wear.” She took him a pair of grey sweat pants and a dark green t-shirt, which he dutifully slipped on with his back still facing her.
He wore a broad grin when he turned around. “Better?”
“Much,” she said with a sigh. “Coffee?”
He followed her up the steps to the house, but hesitated at the patio door. He was still standing there when Samantha returned minutes later with two cups of coffee, staring down at his feet just inches from the threshold. He glanced up at her as she came closer and in his eyes was the look of a tormented soul, full of anguish and fear. But what reason could he possibly have to feel this way? He was a tender, gentle soul, full of love. He shook his head and backed away from the door.
Samantha took the coffee outside and set it down on the patio table, acting as though nothing in his previous movements were a cause for concern.
“I took a guess that you like it black,” she said as she pulled a chair out for him.
Once seated on the other side of the table, she watched him as he looked from the chair to the open door, out into the brush, then back to the chair.
“Sit down,” she said gently.
He glanced quickly up at her then returned his gaze to the open door.
“Please, sit down.”
With his eyes still locked onto the threshold, he said, “I’m not allowed inside, it’s dangerous.”
She regarded him over her coffee cup. “But we’re not inside now, are we?”
“No.”
“Tell me your name.”
He flinched and looked back at her. “Jason. Jason Andrews.”
“Well, Jason Andrews, I make the rules in my house. Sit down and drink your coffee.”
She waited as he glanced back at the brush one last time. With a stiff look of resolve, he walked over to the chair, sat and picked up his coffee. “Your name?”
“Samantha Richou.”
“Thanks.”
They sat a long while in silence drinking their coffee, watching the sun rise higher in the bright, cloudless sky. It would be hot today, a good day to be indoors.
Samantha was considering what she had seen in Jason’s eyes, the fear as he stood at the door, when he interrupted her thoughts with a repeat of the question he’d asked earlier.
“Samantha, why do you hurt?” He stared at her, his eyes full of concern, as though he could sense her pain even now.
“That isn’t a question easily answered.” She pushed out of her chair and came around to stand in front of him. With her hand outstretched, she said, “Come into the house.”
Jason sat very stiff, one hand fisted on the table, the other in his lap. His eyes were riveted on her offered hand.
“Jason, no matter what you have been told, you are not dangerous. Take my hand and come inside with me.”
He didn’t move.
“It’s starting to heat up out here and I want to close up the house so it stays cool. Don’t you think we would be more comfortable in the living room?”
He remained still.
She knelt and picked his hand up from his lap. She ran her fingers between the clenched white knuckles, to his wrist and back down.
“Do you know what I am? Can you see the things my nightmares are made of? Am I the terror they tell me I am? Is this the reason he left me?”
So many questions about herself, so many things she didn’t know; she’d been endlessly plagued by them. But she did know why he wouldn’t come inside. She had seen the woman in his memory.
Resting her cheek on his knees, still brushing her fingers along his fist, she heard the words given in anger and fear. You’re an animal, dangerous, you don’t belong here. Get out of my house!
“She was wrong. You are a gentle soul, full of love and compassion, tender in your touch. The cat is a part of you but you are a man and you deserve to be treated as such.”
“How can you know that I will not turn, that I will not hurt you?”
Her head rose to look into his face and she said, “I know.”
He stood then, lifting her to her feet and took a deep breath. With his hand in hers, he walked with her into the house.
Samantha closed the slider door and left him standing for a few minutes as she went through the house, closing the windows and curtains. When she returned to the living room, he still stood where she had left him, nervous and seeming out of place.
“Jason, I was serious when I told you she was wrong.” She led him to the sofa. “Just sit here for a bit; try to relax and I’ll fix us some breakfast. Can you do that?”
“Sure, okay.” He sat with his hands grasped on his lap. “Samantha, how did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
“What my grandmother said?”
She thought about his question. How indeed?
“I’m not sure I know how to answer that, I see things in people. Sometimes I can hear memories, and when I really look, I can see almost as if through their eyes. I don’t know why. I think that I did once, but the answer is covered now, hidden behind a dark curtain.”
“Did you know what I was before I shifted?”
“Yes. I’ve known since the first time I saw you. I always know when someone is more than human, though not always what makes them that way.”
“Like you? You’re more than human.”
“I am, but I don’t know why.” With a shake of her head, she started for the kitchen. “Too many questions before breakfast. You sit tight and I’ll call when it’s time to eat.”
* * *
Jason sat very quietly, listening to Samantha sing as she moved about in the kitchen. There was something mesmerizing about her song. It soothed the soul but heated the body at the same time. As he listened, he looked around the living room. It was simply furnished in soft outdoor hues of browns and greens. The sofa and two recliners, supple forest green leather sitting on plush ecru carpeting, surrounded by walls painted the palest of sage, made the room comforting and warm. Settling back into the sofa, he closed his eyes and found himself daydreaming with Samantha’s voice floating on the air, reaching in with soft fingers to arouse the heat of passion that had been pushed deep into the recesses of his mind.
She was with him again, as she had been in the beginning of his change. Her long hair, the blond of the cat, lay soft against his chest. Silken skin, tanned golden, moved against his own as their limbs entangled in each other. The taste of peaches filled his mouth as she met his lips.
“Nice dream?”
Jason jerked upright and pulled his legs up, curling into the corner of the sofa. His face burned crimson as he looked up into Samantha’s amused gaze.
“Breakfast is ready. Take your time.” She disappeared into the dining room, leaving him to calm his body before following.
They spoke little while eating and afterward went back to the livingroom to relax. They were easy with one another, as though they were friends from the past and learning from years missed.
“Is this your mother?” Jason asked as he pointed at a portrait hanging between the recliners. The portrait showed a young woman of exceptional beauty. Flowing dark hair framed a porcelain fine face with crystal grey eyes and full ruby lips.
“It was, yes. She died many years ago.” Samantha curled up into the corner of the sofa next to Jason and held her arms across her tiny waist. She didn’t look at the portrait, but past him, through the patio doors and outside.
“You look like her.”
“Do I?” She gave a small smile and pulled her gaze inside to his face.
“Not her eyes though. I’ve never seen eyes that sparkle as yours do, like glittering emeralds. You must get them from your father, along with your red hair.”
Samantha didn’t answer and for an instant, he thought he saw a spark of anger cross her face. She hadn’t said much during breakfast, sending him back out into the living room when they were finished. He thought maybe she was uncomfortable with him now, especially after finding the state he’d been in when she came out to get him earlier, yet his fear was dispelled when she stretched out and gently pressed her lips against his mouth.
“Sorry, but I’ve been wondering what those lips of yours would feel like.”
The blood began to rise in his face again. “Umm, okay?”
“Sweet,” she said and kissed him again. “Innocent.” She returned to the corner of the sofa and stretched out her legs.
“Innocent? What kind of description is that?”
“You’re so young, innocent.”
“I’m not that much younger than you.”
“Mmm, I’m not as young as you think.”
He stared at her. Fair, unlined skin, peaches-and-cream, deep auburn hair, emerald green eyes, high cheek bones with a patrician nose and full ruby lips. He looked down at her delicate hour glass form, small but curvaceous, a petite little thing. Young.
“No, you’re not much older than me, maybe twenty-two, twenty-three.”
She smiled over at him. “Is that what you thought when you followed me home?”
“I didn’t follow you.”
“Right, sure you didn’t. Is my scent that of a woman only twenty-two years old?”
He stared at her a minute before answering. “Your scent isn’t the scent of a woman at all. At least, not any woman I’ve ever come across before.”
This startled her and she leaned in closer to him. “Not a woman? Then what is it?”
“I don’t know, different, not anything I’ve ever smelled before. Definitely female, but... I wouldn’t have followed it if I’d known it was a woman.”
“Then, why did you stay once you saw that it was?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t really have a choice. Too many unanswered questions, and then I heard you crying in the night. I couldn’t leave you.” Jason leaned forward, almost meeting her lips. “Samantha, why do you hurt?”
“Why do I hurt?” His lips, soft, sweet, she could feel them pressing against her own. She raised her gaze to see his eyes, soft chocolate brown... no. “Ethan.” She clutched at her breast and gasped for air.
Jason reached for her as she fell back and pulled her close, pressing her ear to his chest. How he knew this helped was anyone’s guess, but he did know. So he held her and waited while running his fingers down through her hair. A few minutes later, she pulled away from him and curled up once again into the corner of the sofa.
“I remember once, as a child, my mother telling me I was different, special, and because of that difference, I had to be very careful in choosing the one I wanted to spend my life with. I didn’t think about that day again, until he left me and the pain began. I gave him a part of me and now there’s a void in my soul.”
“So you hurt... because of a man?”
“A man? Yes, but only a man as much as I am a woman.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll be right back.” Samantha went into her bedroom and returned a minute later with another green t-shirt. “His favorite color, this one, he wore. Does it have a man’s scent?”
Jason took the t-shirt and put it up to his nose. Samantha gave him a small, sad smile as his eyes grew wide.
“What is he?” he asked as he pulled the shirt back and inspected the wrinkles in it.
Samantha shrugged and sat back down. “What are any of us?”
“You really don’t know? What have you been doing, sleeping with this? No wonder you cry at night.” He lifted it back to his nose. “Almost the same.”
“What is?”
“The scent. Yours is sweeter, like orange blossoms, but both have a spice to them.”
“A spice?”
Jason still held the shirt to his nose and Samantha watched as his eyes started to glaze over. “Yeah, cloves and cinnamon, allspice... wow, there’s something... wow.”
She took the t-shirt out of his hands. “You’re starting to drool.”
“I am not.” He lifted a hand to his mouth, but dropped it when she started to laugh. “Ha ha, very funny.” He couldn’t help but smile as she took the t-shirt back to her room.
When Samantha returned, she sat down, curiosity in her expression. She curled up in the corner but was more relaxed than she had been. “So, spices huh?”
“Yeah, can’t you smell them?”
“I’m not sure what I smell. He is very unique for me.” Her eyes clouded with loss for an instant but she recovered quickly with a shake of her head. “So, what questions made you stay?”
“I never saw you. How could you get so close to me without me seeing you?”
“I hid.”
“You’re small, but not that small. You’re scent was fresh when it came to me. You must have been no more than ten feet away, but I never saw you.”
“There are more ways than one to hide from someone’s view.”
“Tell me. How’d you do it?”
While Jason sat looking at Samantha, waiting for an answer, she quickly faded from his sight. His reaction was instantaneous, though not what she’d expected. Moving with a speed she hadn’t known was possible for him, he pounced, pinning her into the corner of the sofa. Her response to being pinned was also immediate. Pulling her strength, she pushed, sending him flying across the room. He missed the patio door by inches and crashed into the wall, knocking the breath from him.
“Oh, my god, Jason!” Back into view, Samantha rushed to his side. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Are you hurt?”
He lay in a heap with his eyes shut tight and concentrated on trying to relax, to get his lungs working again. When he could, he started to suck in a breath, but stopped when a knife of pain went through his back. “Shit.”
Samantha hovered over him as he carefully moved to sit up. “I shouldn’t have faded, I should have explained. Oh, Jason, if I’ve hurt you... Please, tell me you’re okay.”
Once seated, Jason rested his head back against the wall with his eyes still closed and took slow shallow breaths as he felt for the pain and tried to judge the damage. He moved his shoulders and once again took a deep breath; slower this time, and filled his lungs then exhaled. He’d hit the wall square and solid, he would be bruised but nothing was broken.
“Jason?”
He opened his eyes. She was such a little thing. Where did all that power come from?
“Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live.” He started to stand and she moved to help him. “I suppose you could just carry me to the sofa.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“No?” Moving slowly, his back muscles shifting, he walked to the sofa to sit. “How does it work?”
“It’s not something that’s with me all the time. I mean, it’s in me, but I can’t just... Damn, I don’t know.” She stood in front of him; shoulders slumped, tired and defeated.
“I wouldn’t have hurt you,” he said.
“I know.”
“I just didn’t know if you were still there.”
“I should have warned you, told you what I was doing.”
“And what was it that you were doing?”
Samantha looked at the corner where she had been sitting, then started to back up to sit in a recliner.
“I could be on you just as quickly.”
She curled up in the recliner, hugging herself, and closed her eyes. “Quite a while back I found I could remove myself from view, slide over just a little. That’s what I did to hide from you.”
“You stayed a long time, hiding from me.”
“You knew?”
“The scent was too strong for you to have only been there a short time.”
She sighed and opened her eyes. He was just as beautiful now as when she’d sat watching him. “I left my scent for you to follow. Oh sure, there would have been a scent anyway, but I made sure you could follow.”
“Why would you do that? You didn’t know anything about me.” Jason sat forward, wincing when his back seized. “I could have been one of those crazed creatures you hear about on the news. Damn it, Samantha, you sleep outside. What were you thinking?”
“I sleep outside because you call me outside.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Samantha let her gaze rest on his face. Such beautiful eyes, so gentle, so full of concern, she could give herself to one with eyes like his. She had shown herself to be far more dangerous than he was, yet he worried about her safety. He kept her safe, he kept her alive.
“Well?”
“You have the most beautiful eyes.” She felt herself unwinding, her legs slipping down, feet touching the floor.
“Samantha.”
“You know, when I was sitting out there watching you, I was just positive your eyes would be amber.”
Her eyes took on a far away look as she remembered a lion with amber eyes. He’d also been a shape shifter. How long ago was that? Twenty years?
“Sam?”
“Sam. I like that, short and sweet.”
“Yeah, just like you. You’re stalling.”
“Am I?
She’d held his head on her lap, stroked through his tawny hair. Samantha found herself up and crossing the room to Jason, drawn to the safety of his arms. She remembered his tormented cries, screams of anguish cutting through her soul. She would take away his pain.
“Sam.”
Her eyes cleared. She was on her knees with Jason, straddling his lap, lips pressed to his throat. She took a deep breath and backed away shaking her head.
“Are you with me?”
“With you? Was I... yes... I’m with you.”
“That’s good, ’cause no matter how much I love your attention, I’d rather have it while you’re awake.”
“Awake?”
“Sam.”
“Yes?”
Jason put his lips to her ear and whispered. “I’m just giving you fair warning. If you don’t take your hand out of my pants...”
She jerked back from him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”
“It’s okay. I’ll take that over getting tossed any day. Hell of a way to avoid questions though.”
“I wasn’t trying to avoid your questions.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jason patted the seat next to him and she slumped down.
“I wasn’t.”
“Okay, so answer. Why did you want me to follow you?”
“Because I don’t want to be alone any more.”
“That’s it? You wanted me to follow you home because you don’t want to be alone? I don’t buy it, and who the hell were you just thinking about?”
His sudden outburst startled Samantha. “What?”
“You sat out there and watched me for a reason, you wanted me to follow you home for a reason, and it has something to do with the one you were just thinking about. Who is he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Amber eyes.”
Samantha gaped at him then shrunk into the corner. “Oh.”
Jason moved closer and took her hands. “Who is he? I’m guessing he isn’t Ethan.”
“No. A distant memory from a long time ago. He was a shifter. And when I saw you, for a little while, I was sure that you were him. Crazy, I know, I haven’t thought about him for probably twenty years.”
Jason flinched. “Not possible. You acted as though he had been a lover.”
“He wasn’t, but when I think about him now, there was something very special about him.” Raising a hand, she stroked his cheek, “Just as there is something very special about you. Something about you helps me focus, helps me to survive. I don’t know what it is. What is it that made you stay?”
“I told you, your crying in the night.”
“And how did you know your heart beat would calm the pain in my soul?”
He didn’t know what to say.
A small, sad smile formed on her lips. "You see? Some things have no answers."
CHAPTER TWO
Ethan watched the foam from the ocean wave’s creep higher, only a foot from him now. The fine sand of the white beach felt warm against his feet, a contradiction to the brisk sea air that bit into his face. With the wind whipping through his thick hair, he raised his gaze to the yacht in the distance, squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun as it bounced off the water.
Aeron would dock soon.
The tide rose as he sat in the sand, and he shivered when the cold water reached out and swirled about his toes. It was time to go inside. He stood and dusted the sand from his jeans. With a final glance toward the yacht, he walked up the path to the beach house where Megan waited by the steps. Her pale, tawny hair blew wild about her shoulders, wrapping around her small waist, and shimmering in the sunlight as she stared out to the sea. He saw the troubled look on her face and wondered, what does she feel when he comes home?
“It’s going to take forever to comb out all of those knots,” he said as he walked closer.
She turned as he spoke and rewarded his statement with a bright smile. Ethan held his breath when her fingers pushed in along his temples and caught in his own tangled hair.
“Point taken. Come on, let’s go in.”
He took her hand and led her inside as the yacht slipped in alongside the dock.
Inside, Ethan pulled a stool out from the breakfast bar and had Megan sit while he picked up a comb. “Let’s see if we can get some of these out before Aeron gets here.”
He started at the ends and worked his way up, gently removing the knots tied into her long hair by the wind. With each tangle he removed, the draw of her scent increased until it was all he could do to keep his hands steady. He needed to stop, to get some air.
“I can’t... I have to stop for a minute.” Turning away from her, he dropped the comb and darted to his bedroom.
Each of the three bedrooms in the house had its own full bathroom attached. The original owner had it built with vacation renters in mind, full families or groups, so he’d put in the bathrooms as added convenience.
Ethan made his way into his bathroom and filled the sink with cold water. He doused his face and neck, cooling the flames of desire.
The silk of blonde was replaced by the fire of deep auburn in his mind. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Brown eyes stared back at him through a haze of shadow. He couldn’t go on like this. A ribbon of fire wrapped around the center of his core, drawing itself together and squeezing the air from his lungs. He held tight to the sink and closed his eyes, drawing in slow and even breaths, until the pain receded into the confines of his soul.
Minutes later, he walked back out to the living room and was startled to see Aeron at Megan’s back. He hadn’t heard the door open. Ethan watched, transfixed, as Aeron’s slender fingers deftly braided Megan’s hair and tied it off. Moving up to Aeron’s side, Ethan slid his hand down the length of the braid before turning to embrace him. He saw Megan stand and from the corner of his eye, watched her go out the front door. He was thankful she understood the bond between him and Aeron. Brothers of a sort, they were two of an uncommon breed. Half elf, half human - changeling children; they were drawn together by blood and love.
Ethan had heard about Aeron for years, listening to stories of his parents love and subsequent union, but until two years prior, had never met him. He still remembered their first meeting with a skip of his heart. Aeron was beautiful. Even more so than his elven mother. His hair was the color of sunlight, pale gold that shown on the cloudiest of days, his eyes, the blue of a summer sky, clear and bright. With flawless fair skin, a full mouth and body that rivaled the sculpture of David; Aeron had captured the hearts of many, but he loved very few.
Not wishing to separate, Ethan held on to his hand as they stepped over to the large brown overstuffed sofa and sat. Before letting go, he fingered the cuff of Aeron’s silk shirt.
“Always silk. Doesn’t the wind cut right through it?”
Smiling, Aeron said, “I like the feel of the wind. You must too from the looks of your hair.”
Ethan put a hand up to his hair, wincing as his finger caught in a knot.
“You should tie it back if you’re not going to wear a hat.” Aeron took the tie out from his hair and let his golden locks fall about his shoulders. “See, very few tangles.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Ethan’s attention wandered to the front window. He could see Megan coming up the steps to the front of the house. He watched her look at the front door for a few seconds then go to sit on one of the porch chairs.
Aeron followed his gaze. “She’s seems very sensitive to your needs.”
“Yes, she is, maybe too much.”
“What do you mean?”
Ethan shook his head and rested back into the sofa. “Ah, forget it. It’s probably more me than her anyway.”
He felt Aeron’s eyes linger on his face, studying the changes since the last time he was here and smiled over at him.
“Aeron, you’re staring.”
“Maybe we should leave sooner.”
His smiled faded. “I can’t, I haven’t explained everything to Megan yet.”
“What?” Aeron jerked upright. “Ethan, why not? What are you afraid of?”
“Calm down Aeron,” Ethan whispered and put his hand up, “She can hear you.”
“So what?” His hand flew out toward the front window. “She needs to hear. What were you going to do? Just drop her off with your father and disappear?”
“No.”
“Then what? Ethan, you need to go back. Have you looked at yourself lately? You need to find Samantha and finish what you started. Fulfill your promise.”
Ethan pressed himself back into the sofa, closing his eyes, and hissed as another ribbon of fire compressed around his heart.
“Damn,” Aeron said and pressed his hand flat against Ethan’s rib cage. “Don’t fight it, Ethan. Try to relax.” He looked up, twisting his head around, when Megan opened the door.
Megan wasted no time, but rushed directly to Ethan and rested her hand over Aeron’s. He felt an odd, comforting warmth flow through his hand and into Ethan. Astonishment filled Aeron’s gaze when, a minute later, Ethan relaxed, breathing easily, and opened his eyes. Megan removed her hand and moved it up to Ethan’s face, running her fingers along his jaw line. She brought her face close to his.
For an instant, Aeron thought she would kiss him, but she backed away when Ethan turned his head and said, “Please, don’t.”
“Come on.” Aeron lifted him to his feet. “You need to rest.”
On the way to the bedroom, Ethan whispered, “Explain it to her.”
* * *
With Ethan resting, Aeron walked out to speak with Megan. He found her at the front window, staring down at the yacht. Not knowing how to begin to tell her that Ethan needed to leave, he went into the kitchen to get a bottle of Guinness.
“Do you ever drink beer, Megan?” He remembered she rarely spoke, so he leaned out to see her. “Megan?”
She dropped her eyes from the window and shook her head.
“I thought I might have one. Do you mind? I could bring a second glass if you’d like some.”
She sighed and turned from the window, walking back to the sofa.
Her sorrow pulled at his soul and he found himself wanting more than anything to hold her. He stood at the open refrigerator and shook his head to clear his mind. He thought about the woman he felt in the wind, the caress of her fingers as he stood on the flybridge of his yacht. He tried to see her face, her form. He’d done this often since Ethan had come with Megan. It was the only way he kept himself from giving in to the desire he felt every time he was near her.
Once calm, he took a bottle of stout and two glasses into the living room and sat next to Megan. As he poured, he said, “I’ll share one with you. If you like it, we can have another.”
She sat in the corner of the sofa with her legs drawn up, almost defensively, and took the offered glass. He waited while she took a sip. She swallowed, looked in the glass, and took a larger drink. She gave him a small smile and rested her head on her knees.
“You like it?”
She nodded.
“Am I okay sitting here, or would you rather I sat farther away.”
“You wish to leave me too?”
Her whispered voice floated in the air like feathers riding on a gentle stream and his mind fought to keep control as his heart yearned to take her into his arms, to claim her as his.
“Never.” Get it together, Aeron. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable with me.”
She didn’t move to give him an answer, so he relaxed and stretched his legs out, kicking his shoes off and resting his feet on the coffee table.
“Has Ethan told you about going to see his father?”
She nodded and took another swallow of the stout, sneezing when a bubble burst and hit her nose.
“Do you like spending time with Calanon? I know he enjoys your company.”
Megan looked into his eyes and held his gaze for what seemed an eternity, before turning away.
“Megan, Ethan needs to finish his bond. Do you understand that?”
“I can love him.”
“It isn’t the same. She is his chosen.”
Megan nodded and finished her beer. “Can I have more?”
“Sure.” Aeron got another bottle from the kitchen and returned to refill their glasses. While he was pouring it, Megan let her feet drop to the floor and reached out, combing her fingers through his hair. He felt his heart skip and a flush rise in his face at her touch. Woman in the wind, woman in the wind. “Here you go.” He handed her the glass.
* * *
Ethan woke, having slept only an hour, and jumped into the shower. He’d learned a long time ago that the best way to get the knots out of his hair was with conditioner and a comb. He finished and quickly shaved before going out to join Aeron and Megan.
He found them outside. Aeron was sitting on the porch while Megan walked on the beach.
Ethan sat down next to Aeron. “Did you tell her?”
Aeron studied his face and shrugged. “As well as I could.” He stood and stretched. “I think I’ll make some pasta for dinner. I’ll give you a yell when it’s ready.”
Ethan grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Thanks. You’ve done a lot for me and I just want you to know that I really appreciate everything.”
Aeron let his fingers rest in Ethan’s damp hair for a minute. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a tie and bound Ethan’s hair at the base of his neck, revealing four deep scars that ran to his shoulder. They were evidence of one of Megan’s attacks. When his fingers ran along them, he shuddered at how close even Ethan, with as much as Megan loved him, had come to death.
“Freshly washed and combed and what do you do? Walk out into the wind without tying your hair back. When will you learn?”
“There’s no wind right now.”
“Give it a few minutes.” Aeron bent over and gave Ethan a kiss on the cheek. “I love you too,” he whispered then spun and disappeared into the house.
Ethan sighed with contentment and watched Megan walk into the surf. It took him a minute to notice her jeans were getting soaked. Why hadn’t she rolled them up? And why would she be walking into the water in the first place? He got up and started down the pathway to the beach, calling her name as he walked. She didn’t turn to look at him, but stopped walking. The water was past her knees.
“Megan?” he called from the water’s edge. “Megan, what are you doing? That water is freezing.”
She didn’t answer.
“Megan, come out of the water.”
Still no answer.
“Megan, please.”
The water rose to her thighs and Ethan slipped out of his jeans to go in after her. He watched her bow her head as the surf raised to her hips.
“You don’t want me,” she said.
“That isn’t true.”
“Then why would you leave me behind?”
Ethan shivered as he stepped into the water. “It wouldn’t be fair to take you with me. You would be safer with Calanon. You like him don’t you? You like spending time with my dad?”
“I would rather be with you.”
Ethan’s teeth began to chatter. Damn, this is cold. It’s like walking through ice. “Megan, can we talk about this in the house?” He reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her back to the beach.
“Take me with you.” She was on him in a flash, pressing her body to his, her lips to his throat.
He staggered back, gasping for air as the fire within his soul flared. Struggling to stay on his feet, he pulled her with him, out of the water where he fell onto the sand.
She looked at him, at the pain in his eyes, and laid her hand on his chest, whispering, “Take me with you.”
When the pain ebbed to a level he could stand, Ethan stood up and pulled her with him. Picking up his jeans on the way, he took her up to the house. When they were inside, he pushed her toward the hallway. “Hot shower and pajamas. Now!”
Megan ran for her bedroom, tears streaming at the anger she’d seen in his face.
Ethan fell into a kitchen chair, teeth chattering, his jeans slipping from his fingers.
“You should probably do the same,” Aeron said. He walked over and picked the jeans up from the floor. “Take these with you.”
“I c-can’t feel my feet,” Ethan stammered.
“Come on.” Aeron helped him up and walked with him to his bathroom. He left him there and returned to the kitchen, shaking his head.
Not long after, Ethan came out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of worn sweat pants, and sat in the same kitchen chair.
“Thanks. I don’t know how that girl could stand being in water that cold.”
Aeron drained the water off a pot of angel hair pasta and ran cool water over it to stop its cooking. “It’s her blood. Shape shifters don’t feel the cold the same way we do. I would think after two years with her, you would know that.”
“Oh hell, she didn’t even start talking ’til two months ago. I don’t know anything.”
“Sure you do. You know she loves you. You also know the only thing keeping her from trying to bond with you herself is your pain.” Aeron transferred the pasta into a bowl and tossed in some olive oil to keep it from sticking to itself. “Put this on the table for me. There’s a salad in the refrigerator and a bottle of Pinot Bianco you can take out too.”
Ethan did as requested and tried to take his mind off Megan’s sudden trip into the ocean. He was reaching up to take down some plates when he felt Megan’s light touch on his shoulder.
“I’ll do that,” she said. “Go sit down.”
He went back to the table and watched her as she took down the plates and got out the silverware. She set the table, not once looking at him, and handed Aeron the wine so he could open the bottle. Ethan flinched when Aeron brushed his lips quickly across hers before giving her the open bottle of wine. What exactly had gone on while he was resting?
Megan poured the wine, while Aeron brought the sauce and parmesan to the table. She sat in the chair next to Ethan, and resting her hand on his thigh, finally looked up at him. Her eyes were blue-green pools of sorrow as she said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, tell her everything was okay, that he would never leave her. He wanted to make love to her. Pain.
Before it could take over, he felt the calm warmth of her hand.
They ate their dinner, talking little and finishing off the entire bottle of wine. Megan surprised Ethan by having two full glasses, then falling over onto his shoulder. He carried her into her room and tucked her into bed.
“You’re an odd one girl,” he murmured, stroking a finger along her jaw. Bending in closer, he kissed her brow and whispered, “I’ll take you with me.”
Leaving her to sleep, Ethan joined Aeron in the kitchen and together they put things away and washed the dishes. Ethan wanted to ask about the chaste kiss he’d seen but was unsure how to broach the subject. Was it even something he should ask about? Aeron wasn’t tied to anyone. He was free to do what he would with anyone he wished. But why Megan? Ethan shook his head. Enough, you’re thinking about this as if you own her.
“What’s up?” Aeron stared at him.
Shit. “Nothing really.” I’ve got to get it together here. Ethan hung the dish towel to dry and walked out to the living room.
Aeron followed and settled into the sofa next to him. “Come on, Ethan, spill. What’s bugging you?”
Ethan rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. In his mind, he saw Aeron reaching his hands into Megan’s hair and pulling her to his lips. In a way he supposed it made sense. He knew the draw most males had for her. Why would Aeron be any different?
Golden tan against fair skin, her supple form molded against his hard frame
“Ah, stop it.” Ethan said and sat up straight staring out the window into the dark night.
Aeron sat forward and rested his hand on Ethan’s arm. “Ethan, what is it?”
“I keep seeing her with you. I close my eyes and see her pressed up to your body. I see you kissing her and I want it to be me.”
Aeron flinched. “You want me to kiss you?”
“No, I want to be the one kissing her.” Ethan turned to face him. “I’m going mad, Aeron. It hurts all the time and her scent is driving me crazy. It’s not right, what I feel for her. I don’t own her, and if she chooses to be with you, I can’t stand in the way.”
Aeron’s eyes softened and he put his hands up, grasping Ethan’s face. “She hasn’t chosen me. She hasn’t chosen anyone.”
Ethan stared into the clear blue of his eyes. He was so close to his face. He drew in a breath and smelled the salt air of the sea in Aeron’s hair. Closing his eyes, he could almost taste his scent.
Aeron gasped as Ethan’s fingers plunged into his hair, brushing along his ears. A shudder of intense desire pulsed through his body when his lips were met with the heat of Ethan’s breath. As quickly as it began, his kiss ended and Ethan removed his hands.
“Sorry.” Ethan turned back to the window, shaking his head.
Aeron couldn’t speak. The still present feel of Ethan’s lips, the touch of his fingers in his hair, on his ears, sent shivers down his spine.
Ethan sighed. “You feel it too, don’t you? The draw of her scent pulling you, the desire to make her yours?”
Aeron shuddered and shook himself. “Not at the moment.”
Ethan looked over at him and laughed. “Oh please, one little kiss from me couldn’t possibly break the spell she casts.”
Aeron smiled back at him and shook his head. “Close. It’s a good thing you stopped when you did. You might have become my first male lover.”
“Come on, I hardly touched you.”
Aeron took a closer look at Ethan. He had his father’s dark hair, though it was wavy like his mother’s, and chocolate brown eyes. His lips were soft, full as were the lips of an elf, but his bone and muscle structure was that of a human god. His skin was tan, not fair as an elf would be. He imagined that when women dreamt of making love, it was to a man that looked like Ethan. As he gazed at him, he came to a sudden revelation. As much as Aeron was elf, Ethan was human.
Aeron moved closer to Ethan and reached into his hair. He watched Ethan’s expression as he brushed his fingers along his ear. No change, no shiver of desire.
“Tell me, Ethan. Would you do this to an elf?”
“Are you kidding? Not unless I... Oh shit. I’m sorry, Aeron. I didn’t stop to think that maybe you... Damn.” Ethan looked stricken.
“Don’t worry about it. I had no idea that you didn’t have the same senses.”
“No, I guess I’m more like my mother. I’ll be more careful with you in the future.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Aeron backed into the corner of the sofa and closed his eyes.
Ethan watched him as he tried to relax, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. This wasn’t good. It shouldn’t be so difficult for him.
“Come on, Aeron, I’m not that good.”
“It isn’t you. I mean, it’s not entirely you.” His eyes opened and his attention went to the hallway. “It’s her.”
“So you do feel it.” Ethan sighed in relief. “I’m not crazy.”
“No, you’re not crazy. I’ve always felt it, but it’s stronger now.”
“Stronger how?”
Aeron shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain. It started earlier, while you were sleeping, and I was trying to help her understand why you need to find Samantha. She touched me, ran her fingers through my hair. Ever since, I can’t seem to make myself relax.” Aeron tore his gaze away from the hallway to Ethan. “You know I’ve had my share of lovers, but I’ve only come across a pull this strong once before.”
Intrigued, Ethan leaned forward. “You have felt this pull before? Where were you? Was it another, like Megan?”
“It was a long time ago, Ethan, in the Colorado desert.”
Colorado - where he had left Samantha. Heat flamed in his chest, an instant excruciating burn that he recoiled from. Pressing himself into the corner of the sofa, he closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath, expanding his lungs, trying to push the pain away. Aeron was at his side in an instant, laying his hand against his burning ribcage.
“Don’t hold the breath in, let it out. Relax your body and try to breathe as you normally would.”
After a while, the fire ebbed and Ethan opened his eyes again. “I’m okay now. Continue, tell me about the one that drew you.”
Aeron looked up into Ethan’s eyes and backed away. “She was young, much too young for a draw that strong.”
“Young?”
“Very, I would have put her age at maybe fourteen. I thought at first it was the woman standing with her, but when I came closer...” A shudder ran through Aeron as the memory passed in his mind. “Here, I have the sea to keep me.”
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure. One minute, her scent filled my senses and the next, it was gone. She was still there, but I no longer had the insane urge to make her mine. Only a child, she was only a child. It would have been pure insanity to take one so young.”
Ethan watched him as he put his head into his hands. He tried to imagine the thoughts that went through his mind, tried to put himself in his place. What would it be like, to feel the pull from someone of such a young age?
“But you would have?” he asked.
Aeron raised his head and locked eyes with Ethan. “Imagine, you are alone, you have no one to hold you back, no sense of bonding with another. Now feel the pull of her scent. The blood in your veins begins to boil, pushing through your body, heating it to the point that she is the only thing you see. The only thing you feel is the desire to be inside her. But she is a child. What would you do?”
Ethan thought about Megan, bruised and broken. “I would rather put a sword to my heart than damage one so young.”
“And so, you have your answer. I was already turning to run when the scent lifted, but the memory still lingers.”
Aeron leapt to his feet when Megan began to scream.
“No!” Ethan held tight to Aeron’s arm, preventing him from running in to Megan. “Wait. As difficult as it is to hear her scream, you have to wait for her to wake up.”
Ethan rose and stood with Aeron, holding him back as her screams escalated, terrible sounds that turned their blood to ice.
Aeron strained against Ethan’s hand. “She’s in pain.”
“Aeron, if you try to wake her, she’ll kill you.”
Aeron was reminded of the scars along Ethan’s neck and shoulder, understanding in an instant how he was injured. He stopped struggling to be released and stood, tense and trembling, eyes riveted on the hallway leading down to Megan’s room.
“I can’t just stand here and listen to her scream.”
“No, come on.”
Together they walked down the hallway. Outside her room, Ethan rested his forehead against the door with his hand on the knob.
“Aeron, do you know the children’s song?”
Aeron’s eyes were fixed on Ethan’s hand, willing him to turn the knob. “I know many children’s songs.”
“But do you know the song the elves sing to calm the children for sleep?”
“Ethan.”
“It’s the only thing that has ever broken through her nightmares. I am giving you the chance to calm her.”
“I didn’t spend much time with the elves.”
“Did your mother never sing to you when you were a child?”
“Yes.” Megan’s screams pushed through Aeron’s mind making it hard to think. He tried to remember. “That was so long ago.” When did his mother sing to him? Calm the children for sleep... calm the children. Wait. When his father died. He began to sing. The song was hardly audible, low in timber but with a resonance that reached deep into the mind and soul.
Ethan sighed and backed away from the door. He still held onto the knob, preventing Aeron from opening the door until the screaming dissipated, turning into soft weeping. Then, with a nod, he pushed it open and followed Aeron into the room.
With no hesitation, Aeron went to Megan’s bed, sat down and lifted her to his chest. He held her close to his beating heart and continued in his song as her tears flowed, soaking into the silk of his shirt. The scent of her tears mingled with the scent of her pull, and Aeron found himself in a state of yearning, desire that far exceeded that which he had spoken of earlier. His song quit as he drew in breath, heavy with her scent, and closed his eyes. His hands went to her hair, plunging in, pulling her head back and he kissed her.
Pain. The pain as her innocence was taken, the pain of the fire burning into her back, the pain of continued rape tearing into her womb. Then before pulling away and crying out in rage, he saw the face of her molester.
She lay unmoving against his chest, only the sound of her shallow breathing reaching his ears. He laid her back into the bed, staring into her eyes, and brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks. The draw to take her, still there in full force, was kept at bay by the things he’d seen and felt in her returning kiss. He’d been wrong, it wasn’t only Ethan’s pain that kept her from trying to bond; it was her own.
“You know?” she whispered.
“I know.” He drew the covers over her pajama-clad body and kissed her again. No pain this time. Stroking down her cheek with the tips of his fingers, he said, “Sleep.”
“Adrian.” Fear passed through her eyes and she slipped her fingers from beneath the covers to grasp his hand.
“I know. Megan, he’ll never touch you again. We won’t let him.” Aeron looked over at Ethan as he stood by the door and waved him in closer. “We won’t let him ever hurt you again. You can trust us.”
Ethan laid his hand on Megan’s head. “I didn’t take you away from there to allow him to take you back.”
With a wild look in her eye, Megan struggled up and flung herself at Ethan, wrapping her arms around his neck as he knelt.
“Adrian. He knows I’m here.”
Ethan met Aeron’s eyes, but spoke to Megan. “You know this?”