Charlotte threw the bed covers back and got to her feet. She wore only her strappy camisole and her panties. But her sweater and jeans were laid over a radiator under the window, drying. She crossed to them and put them on, relishing their warmth against her skin in the chill air. She glanced out the window and her heart sank when she looked out over snowfall so heavy she couldn’t see more than a foot beyond the pane. But below the window lay possible salvation in the form of a large, off-road vehicle. If anything seemed capable of navigating the snow, it was the behemoth in the driveway.
She needed to get out of there. Something strange and sultry lay over the house. Over the gruff man who’d kissed her so headily she’d actually come. A small orgasm, and one she’d managed to hide, but an orgasm nonetheless. And from a mere kiss. It didn’t seem remotely conceivable, but there it was.
His lips on hers had been, hands down, the best sexual experience of her life. Admittedly, she didn’t have much to compare it to, but still. Wow. That kiss. She wanted more. She wanted things she’d never really thought about before. Things like big, callused hands holding her. Her own hands touching hard, solid flesh. She’d noticed the bulge in his sweat pants and wanted to see what lay behind the soft cotton. More than anything, she wanted the big, scary man to…what? Make love to her? No, something coarser, more elemental. In truth, she wanted him to fuck her. Dear God. She’d turned into some sort of sex maniac.
One kiss from a big, rough man and she’d taken off her glasses, let down her hair, and transformed from uptight secretary to shameless porn star. Speaking of glasses… She looked around the room, relaxing when she spied them by the bed, on the other side, placed carefully on the second bedside table. She’d need them to drive out of this strange place, and if it meant stealing the keys and risking it in this hellish snow, she’d do anything to get away. Something, some newly born sixth sense she’d never experienced before, told her if she didn’t leave now, she might not get away.
Odd, disturbing feelings grew all around her, sticky, emotional vines clinging to the house of her skin and trapping her within. Yeah, if she didn’t get away, she’d end up living her life in this otherworldly home.
She went to the bedside table and retrieved her glasses. Once they were on, she looked around for her boots. Spying them in the corner, she gave a prayer of thanks. Pulling them on quickly, she tied the laces with brisk, efficient movements. Standing, her leg complained and she rubbed at her thigh through the denim covering it. If the car broke down, she risked freezing in these clothes. Maybe the people here owned better coats than the frankly useless item she’d brought with her. God, she’d turned into an amoral thief as well as a wanton hussy. Stealing coats and cars. Although, she only intended to borrow both. Not such a bad crime, right?
She’d drive herself out of this place and keep going until she found a main road. This was Wales, for pity’s sake, not Australia or somewhere with vast expanses of empty space. She’d find civilization soon enough.
Heart hammering a rapid tango, she cracked open the bedroom door and glanced out. No one around. Tentatively, she took a step out of the room and crept along the corridor. The stairs scared her. Stairs tended to creak. Taking a deep breath, she began to descend one step at a time, pausing on any noise, not matter how tiny, breath stalled in her throat. As she neared the bottom, she heard voices coming from a room to the right of the staircase. Aiyana’s she recognized, and on reaching the bottom of the stairs and rounding the corner, she spied her in a large kitchen talking with the red-haired man whose name she forgot.
“He ought to tell her,” Aiyana said. “If she knows, then she can make an informed choice. Not telling her is cruel. Wrong.”
“Why?”
“Oh, Eric, don’t be obtuse.”
Eric, of course. She turned to head toward the porch leading outside, where she hoped to find some gloves, a coat, and some car keys for the big off-roader she’d seen.
“Charlotte may deserve to know, but Brenin won’t tell her. You know his deal with human females. He’s messed up.”
Oh my God. They were talking about her. She stopped, one foot in the air, and didn’t move a muscle. Slowly, she lowered her foot to the ground and focused on listening.
“So then we tell her,” Aiyana said.
“Are you crazy? Bren’s our leader and our family. Our loyalty lies with him.”
Leader? Weird word. It lent credence to her worry of them being some sort of cult. And it also added to her fear of this place and these people. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she’d entered some magical, otherworldly domain. But she did know better. Science was one of her pet loves, along with photography and reading and her other geeky interests. Most months, she read two science magazines cover to cover, and she believed that magic was superstitious nonsense. Their conversation continued, and she focused on their words.
“Of course it does, which is why we should tell her. He won’t make a move. But he ought to. She’s perfect for him. Even beyond the mating thing. They are meant for one another.”
Her and Bren? Meant for one another? And what did they mean by the “mating thing”?
“She’s a good person. I deciphered as much when I held her hand. She’s grounded and sincere, and stupid and cruel boys have messed with her. Bren and her…they’d work.”
Charlotte’s mouth hung open as her brain scrambled to catch up with some pretty out-there intel. Firstly, it seemed Aiyana was psychic or some shit, so yeah, she didn’t have a rational sciency explanation for that. Secondly, she and Brenin were meant to be together. Thirdly, and the thing she kept coming back to, why call her human? As opposed to what?
“Shapeshifters, dear. As opposed to shapeshifters.” Aiyana appeared in the doorway right next to her.
Charlotte screamed and leaped about a foot away.
“Hey. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. So…you heard.”
“S…s…s…shape s…shifffterssss?” Her teeth clacked, and her mouth shook so badly her words came out all stuttered and mangled.
“Yes. Shapeshifters. Bear shifters, to be exact.”
Fear ran around her body on an endless loop, but at Aiyana’s last words, anger decided to join the adrenaline race, too. “I knew I’d seen a blasted bear. You all lied to me.”
“Brenin had good reason to withhold that little bit of info.” Aiyana tried to put a hand on her arm, but Charlotte moved back.
“Don’t touch me. What are you? A witch? Do you change shape, too?”
“Yes. But only because I mated with Eric and allowed him to turn me. Before, I was the same as you. A human woman, except I possess the sight, so I’m kind of different.”
“Yeah, right.” The bitter, corrosive acid of fear, anger, and hurt all mixed together to come pouring out in harsh, hurtful words. “Like my great-aunt Geraldine? She had the sight too. Of course, all her predictions were utter bullshit. She told me I’d be married at twenty-two to a dark-haired man called Gregory. She also said my mum would win the lottery. Neither happened. The batty old thing made a fool of herself, and we all indulged her because none of us wanted to hurt her feelings. But we all knew she was nothing but a dreadful fraud.”
Aiyana snaked out her hand and grabbed Charlotte’s wrist, quick as a flash. Charlotte gave a small, choked sob as tight fingers closed around her skin. Oh, God. Why did she say those things? Now, they’d probably want to punish her.
“It must have hurt.” Aiyana’s low voice carried with alarming resonance. “When he did that to you. Secretly filming you dancing. And you so happy, so carefree, doing something you loved. Out on a date with a boy you liked, who you thought liked you back. You haven’t dated since, but more tragically, you haven’t danced either. You need to dance again, Charlie.”
“What the fuck?” She yanked her arm free and took four faltering steps back. Utter horror swamped her. Horror at the scary facts making themselves known. How did Aiyana know the reason behind her not dancing or dating anymore? It wasn’t possible.
Aiyana watched her closely. “There’s no need to be scared. Honestly, Charlie. Calm down. If you knew about us, you wouldn’t be scared. We can shift into bear form, but we also retain our human mind when we do. We live in most ways the same as you. Except we change form every now and again, and unlike humans, when we take a life partner, it really is for life. We call them our mate and the bond is strong. Other than that, we’re very ordinary. So don’t panic.”
Don’t panic? As if. This world wasn’t ordered, boring, and humdrum. Scary women with the power to read your past walked this earth. So it seemed, did men who could change from human to bear. To top it all off, the strange voices returned, mocking her, taunting her.
Get away. Get away. Get away. They will hurt you. Come to us. Be with us. We want you here. The chant became deafening. It drowned out her reason, her very sanity. She took off down the hall toward the porch at a hundred miles an hour. She pulled the glass door open and stepped onto the flagstone floor. She grabbed the first thing remotely usable as a weapon and pointed the sharp-tipped umbrella in front of her, waving it around. She searched frantically for car keys. She spied four sets hung on a hook and with shaking fingers desperately rifled through them, trying to figure out which ones would fit an off-roader.
Land Rover. They made big utility vehicles, right? She chanced it. Grabbed the keys and jabbed forward with the umbrella as Aiyana edged nearer. “Don’t. I mean it. Fucking don’t. I’ll run you through.”
Run you through? Since when had she started talking like the villain in some swashbuckling movie?
Eyes on Aiyana, she opened the door and edged outside. Then she slammed it shut behind her and ran to the car, wildly pressing the key ring as she went. To her relief, the familiar beep-beep-blurp of a car unlocking rang out. She almost sobbed.
Once at the door, she opened it, clambered in, and slammed it shut. She pressed the central lock immediately. Shouted voices tore through the closed door, but she ignored them.
It took three attempts to get the key in the ignition, her hand shook so badly. Finally, she did it. The door handle rattled and she ignored it, putting her foot to the pedal and gunning the engine. She’d only driven her ten-year-old Ford Ka before and this was one big machine, but it presented her only chance of escape.
She looked up and swore. Brenin stood bang in front of the Land Rover. Feet set wide apart, hands on the front of his hips, and his face set in a thunderous expression. His normally warm eyes looked as cold as the snow falling around him. She doubted if she went at him full force with the car, he’d move. In fact, she wondered if the car would come off the worst in a confrontation with Brenin. He seemed as solid as the land he stood on. A big brute of a man unwilling to back down.
“Get out of the car, Charlie,” he demanded.
She shook her head. “Let me go,” she shouted back.
“Not like this. Get out of the car. We’ll talk, and then, I swear, I’ll take you back.”
Don’t trust him. He’s a liar and he shifts his form, a nasty little voice whispered to her. What could be more dishonest than a creature that sheds its skin and takes on a different one? They’re all evil. The shapeshifters are demons sent to try your mind.
What was happening to her? The voices crowded her mind, some telling her to go, others asking her to stay. The ones suggesting she stay were sweet…musical. Mozart had nothing on those voices. But the ones telling her to go were spiteful and mean. She should listen to the sweet voices, but then again, they may be a trick. Better to pick the bitter, nasty voices and go with what they told her. It’s what all fairy tales taught children, right? Not to be fooled by sugar, spice, and all things nice?
Go.
No, stay.
Evil, evil, evil.
Your mate, your lover, your match. No one will treat you as good as Brenin. He needs you and you need him. We used much magic to bring you here. Don’t leave now.
He’ll swallow you whole, consume you until nothing of yourself remains.
“Oh, God. Shut up. Shut up!”
The car door cracked wide open, ripped clean off its hinges, and cold air from outside rushed in, chasing the voices away. She slumped forward onto the steering wheel, crying. Real, ugly crying, with snot and everything. She hiccupped and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her top, beyond caring now.
“Hush, baby. Don’t cry.” Bren reached for her and unclicked the seatbelt. He gathered her in his arms and carried her into the house.
“I’ve gone mad. I’ve always dreaded this. There’s a lot of it on my dad’s side.”
She shook from having her biggest fear come true. Madness. What could be worse than losing your mind? Her father’s sister, and her grandfather on her dad’s side, had both spent long spells of time in psychiatric units. Her auntie thought the government was watching her through the TV, toaster, kettle, and radio, and she covered her appliances in towels all the time so no one could see her.
“You haven’t gone mad.” Aiyana followed them, stuck right by Brenin’s side. “It’s the fairy folk. They’re making mischief.”
“Fairies?” She laughed. The tears still flowed but this time accompanied by hysterical laughter.
“Fuck me,” Bren swore under his breath. “Kyle, pour a big fucking shot of brandy, will ya?”
He took her into a room she hadn’t seen before and placed her on a couch with a view out over a snow-filled garden.
“I can make it stop. We need a ward. Something to keep the fae away.” Aiyana paced the room. “Something made from iron.”
“I can make something from iron,” Justin said. He hadn’t spoken much in Charlotte’s time at the house, but his calm demeanor now gave some comfort. “What, though?”
“Needs to be something she can wear all the time. A bracelet. Or a ring.”
“A wedding ring,” Eric put in helpfully, and Brenin huffed out an annoyed breath.
There he went again with his clear irritation at her. He didn’t want her. Didn’t like human women. She’d heard Aiyana say as much. And Charlotte didn’t need anyone’s charity. Not that she wanted him, either. Of course she didn’t. She might want him physically—the intense yearning for him grew stronger every moment—but nothing beyond. She stood on shaky legs and crossed the room. Picking up the brandy glass, she knocked the contents back in one smooth movement. The fire burned a path down her throat and into her stomach, soothing her and calming her.
“You don’t need to do anything.” She smiled at Aiyana. “I appreciate your help, but it’s clear he doesn’t want me here.” She jabbed a finger at Brenin. “So I’ll be on my way.”
She pushed past Kyle and out of the room. Heavy footsteps sounded behind her.
Brenin. She knew as much without turning around. How, she had no clue, but she’d recognize his tread anywhere.
“You’re not fucking well taking the fucking car again,” he snarled at her back.
“You’ve the mouth of a sailor,” she shot back, somewhat pathetically upon reflection. She needed to come up with better comebacks.
“And you are frustrating and keep doing ill-advised things. You can’t leave. The fae have you in their sights.”
“Yes, well.” She whirled on him. “When I am out of here, they won’t have any reason to bother with me, will they? It must have been the strange hill I sat down by to watch the squirrels. They live in hills like the one I saw, right? Fairies.”
“Fucked if I know.”
“Do you say fuck in each sentence?”
“Not every fucking sentence, no. Only when you’re around.”
“Is it because you want to fuck me but are too chickenshit to admit it?” Oh, shit. Where the hell had that come from?
Heat raced up her spine, up her neck, until her face burned with it. What a stupid, arrogant, coarse thing to say. As if he would. Yeah, he’d kissed her but nothing more, and she wasn’t the sort of girl to inspire such passion in men. Not even those supposedly meant for her.
In this topsy-turvy world of magic and mayhem, she didn’t understand the rules.
“It’s true, I want you. Bad.” His voice rumbled in the space between them. “But beyond the sex, there’s no hope for us.”
“Fine by me, because I don’t want there to be anymore. You might turn me on for some godforsaken reason, but you drive me mad, too. God, I need to go home.”
“I want you gone, too, sweet cheeks. Cool your jets and let Aiyana sort something out, and then you’ll be gone. Like a bad headache.”
Something snapped within her. All her anger and fear and the strange, tumultuous emotions coiled within, and she raised her hand to slap him, hard, across the face. But he caught her wrist with lightning-fast reflexes.
They stared at one another. So close now, they were touching. Both of them breathed heavily, and on a dime, her anger turned to something much more troubling. All the desire she’d been feeling, it had coiled in her gut, all warm, heavy, and erotic. Now it unfurled into something even more intense. Burning hot flames of lust stroked her skin, setting her on fire.
She licked her lips, and he followed the movement. His features hardened and yet softened somehow at the same time. His lips parted and his eyes grew hooded.
He snaked his arm out and traced her lower lip with his thumb. Before, in her ordinary life, Charlotte hadn’t known what to do when men did things like this. She always felt as if she were on the outside looking in when having sex. Often she became nothing but an actress, pretending to be beside herself with pleasure. Sure, she got off sometimes, but not often. And mostly, it was a miracle she got outside of her own head long enough to do so.
All her ugly thoughts about herself would rush to the surface whenever she got down and dirty with anyone. She’d hear the names she’d been called at school. The things even her family said to her: clumsy, silly, careless. Don’t you think you should put the chocolate away? Don’t eat that, Charlie. You ought to buy some hair oil, tame that frizz. Maybe contacts would suit you better than those glasses?
Not now, here in this small space with this big man. Now, she acted on instinct. Each part of her hummed like a well-oiled machine, tuned to one end. To mate with this powerful man in front of her. Odd choice of words, she mused. Not make love or have sex with or fuck, but mate. Elemental and animalistic, it perfectly described her emotions in the moment. Her need to become one with this magnificent male.
His thumb dragged across the sensitive skin of her lower lip, and she set her newfound instincts free, acting on them. She let her tongue slip out and sample his skin. Salt and sweet burst on her taste buds, and she gave a soft moan before sucking his thick thumb inside her mouth. He watched, fascination written all over his face.
She brought her hand up to his, let his thumb go, and turned his hand over, kissing his palm. He, in turn, did the same to her, but he shot his tongue out and licked at her inner wrist, nibbling and tasting the skin there.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“Let’s,” she said without thinking. The word tripped from her tongue before she had time to stop it. She wanted to, but the thought terrified her, too. Her body wanted him so badly, but her mind told her to stop this idiocy and go home.
Bren gave a devilish grin and grabbed her hand. And the world spun on its axis.