Chapter Eight
Another three days passed, though, to Cassandra, time flew. She spent hours in the library, poring over books. Surreptitiously trying out spells, and when those failed — as they inevitably did — she snuck over to the shifter shelf and indulged herself in a little private investigating of her own.
She started with Dragons of Wales: Noble & Common Lines, impressed to discover just how prominent the Llewellyn clan was. But that was pretty staid reading compared to Weres, Wolves, and Whims, and she thumbed through every page in the shifter glossary, amazed at what she found. Apparently, there weren’t just dragon, bear, wolf, and tiger shifters. There were lions. Boars. Mermaids, even, though those were considered extinct. There was even a mighty feline called a liger — a tiger-lion cross said to possess incredible power, even by shifter standards.
According to the book, most shifters benefitted from accelerated healing powers, which made her wonder about Silas’s burns. Had he recovered fully yet?
She looked in the direction of his office, then ordered herself back to the witchcraft section. But that was frustrating as hell because no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get a single spell to work. Not the levitate-a-candle spell, nor the ignite-a-flame-with-a-snap-of-the-fingers spell.
“Damn it,” she muttered after the twentieth try.
She ended up lighting the damn thing with a match and trying the extinguish spell, but that failed too.
“Damn it all,” she muttered, blowing the candle out like the mere human she was.
She slammed the spells book closed and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. It was just like her brief lesson with Eloise, in which the old woman had tried everything, only to throw her hands up in frustration.
Can you not cast any spell?
No, she couldn’t.
Cassandra bit her lip. Obviously, she just didn’t have enough witch blood to make a spell — any spell — work. Only enough to make her enjoy playing around with the human version of potions — home remedies and stiff drinks. It was a damn good thing she had sent the diamond to a safe place.
But, shit. The place she’d sent it to wasn’t so remote, after all.
Her eyes drifted to one of the maps hanging on the wall between shelves — a chart of the Hawaiian Islands hand-drawn way back in whaler days. The thing was probably worth a fortune in itself. There was Maui, with Lahaina featuring prominently — a town not far down the coast. Tessa had taken her to a market there. But when Cassandra’s eyes strayed across the Alenuihaha Channel to the Big Island of Hawaii, she grimaced.
“Not far enough,” she murmured then looked around in alarm.
Whew. No one to overhear her because, shit. She could picture the conversation from there. Like Silas, asking, Not far enough for what?
God, what would she say? Too far to visit, I mean. She would have to come up with a lie like, I’ve always wanted to see the Big Island.
She rubbed her eyes. If only there were a spell for stretching distances, but hell. She would probably fail at that too.
Her gaze fell back to the bookshelf. She really ought to look up Spirit Stones. But she desperately needed a break from witchcraft, so she headed to the shifter shelf instead and ran her finger down the row, looking for something new. And there it was — a smaller, newer volume called Shifter Mating Rites.
She blushed just reading it and looked up. What if Silas caught her reading that?
She turned her back to the doorway, peeked inside the book, and read. A moment later, her eyes grew wide, and she snapped the book shut.
Wow. Apparently, there was a shifter equivalent to the Kama Sutra, and the author hadn’t shied away from sordid details — or illustrations. And judging by those, shifters preferred to screw in human form.
She glanced at the empty doorway and opened the book again. Just a crack, because she was only going to peek briefly before putting the book away.
Ten minutes later, she was still reading and holding the book wide open.
Bear shifters are reputed to be gentle lovers, in spite of their size. Males are utterly devoted to their mate’s pleasure, often spending hours…
She turned the page. No wonder Dawn always looked so goddamn radiant.
Wolf shifters, like most shifter species, will let nothing keep them from their destined mates. Unlike their canine relatives, these shifters find satisfaction in a number of different positions, and they are known to couple at any time of day.
So that explained the giggles Cassandra heard drifting out from Nina and Boone’s seaside cottage.
She leafed through the book until she found dragons and took a deep breath. A peek at the doorway showed the coast clear, so she read on.
Dragons are the most passionate, possessive lovers. It takes a strong female, indeed, to express and act on her own desires.
She gulped and looked out the open window. Boy, it was hot in that library.
While some males prefer harems, most dedicate themselves to a single mate, often waiting years for the right woman to come along.
She closed her eyes and listened to the breeze whisper through Silas’s huge, practically empty house.
While dragon courtship may take decades—
Decades? she nearly blurted out loud.
—once a male dragon claims his mate, he dedicates himself to her for the rest of his life. The mating rite consists of intense copulation, at the height of which one dragon claims the other with a bite…
She blanched at the illustration that depicted a woman tipping her head back while her partner leaned over her neck. Wasn’t that for vampires?
Apparently, the bite wasn’t about drinking blood. But when she read about the mating brand — a part of the mating ritual in which a dragon exhaled a puff of searing heat into their partner’s veins — she snapped the book shut. She pushed it back into the shelf — far back — not sure if she found that incredibly arousing or an absolute no-go.
For the next few minutes, she stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, chastising herself. She was getting way too far ahead of herself. She ought to stick with witchcraft and—
Her shoulders drooped. And remind herself of all the skills she lacked? Maybe her deadbeat dad was to blame. He was only one quarter-warlock, after all, which made her a mere eighth of a witch. Maybe that was too little to stir any magic.
Magic is everywhere. You only need to learn to harness it, Eloise had said.
Cassandra made a face. She didn’t have the power to harness anything.
There are levitation spells. Fire spells. Spells for invisibility…
Invisibility? Cassandra had shrieked at the time.
Eloise just shrugged. Don’t worry about that one. We’ve been avoiding it ever since cousin Louis…well, never mind. There are weather spells, transformations, lure spells…
Cassandra looked back over to the witchcraft books. She really ought to research the latter. Eloise described the lure spell as weaving a dream and pushing it into someone else’s mind, making them act as if upon their own idea.
An incredibly effective spell if you can master it, Eloise had said. They were once used to lure in unicorns — or draw enemies into a trap. I’ve been working on one myself.
Cassandra wondered what that might have been, and whether it had succeeded.
She sighed and went back to the G-rated book on unicorns.
Unicorn shifters went extinct not long after pure unicorns…
“Damn shame,” she murmured.
For a minute, she allowed sadness to consume her, just as she did every time she read about orangutans losing habitats or dolphins caught in nets. But then again, it was only a few days ago that she’d discovered the world of shifters who lived carefully concealed double lives. Who knew what else might exist?
She looked out the window and sighed. It was getting late, and she was going cross-eyed from reading. Time to go.
She put away the books spread across the table — most of them decoys to cover up the witchcraft books she’d been studying, in case Silas walked in — and clicked off the lights. Then she turned to the remaining candles and hesitantly snapped her fingers.
“Damn it,” she cursed then puffed them out in exasperation.
Her eyes followed the smoke as it meandered with faint air currents that had been invisible until then. Could dragons read air movements as light as those? She supposed they did, like birds.
Then she remembered Tessa wanted to see her about something, so she straightened and strode out of the library, ending another long day. Crickets chirped outside, and the sky was a rich indigo. Her steps slowed as she passed Silas’s study, and her pulse skipped.
Dragons are the most passionate, possessive lovers.
He was working his usual late night, and Cassandra paused at the doorway without realizing it. The view was amazing — at least, that was the excuse she used. A princely view of the moon glittering over the channel between Maui and Molokai. The house was so high up, the view might as well have been from a plane — or a dragon’s-eye view. Was that why Silas spent so much time there?
Keiki was there, winding around his legs. Silas reached down, petting the kitten absently. Was shifter healing fast enough for him to be fully recovered from the terrible burns? Or was he okay on the outside but messed up on the inside?
She frowned. That described Silas, for sure, and not just in terms of his arm. But really, what did she know? Even after reading and researching for days, she’d only come to understand how little she really knew of the supernatural world. All her failed attempts at spell-casting rushed back into her mind, and she frowned.
You just have to believe.
Maybe Eloise really was batty. Maybe all this was just a dream. Any minute now, she’d wake up to the sound of Brooklyn at night — rolling traffic, distant sirens, the voices of late-night revelers…
Her nostrils flared. Dreams didn’t smell of night-scented jasmine or heady plumeria or any of the other stunning tropical flowers that flourished all around. Flowers that seemed twice as fragrant after dark, like the huge angel’s trumpets she spotted outside.
She looked at Silas’s broad back. The man had shoulders an Olympic swimmer would die for — except, of course, all that muscle didn’t come from swimming. It came from flying. The man could turn into a dragon. Why didn’t that scare her to death?
Somehow, it didn’t. Not when it came to Silas, at least.
Silas scratched his arm as he scribbled on a notepad, so deep in thought, he hadn’t noticed her. Piles of paper cluttered his desk, some tall enough for Keiki to hide behind. Most of the office was neat as a pin, giving her the impression he’d recently been engulfed by an overwhelming new set of problems. And yes, even a man with the talents and power of Silas Llewellyn could be overwhelmed. She’d seen plenty of examples from behind the bar — successful businessmen or top athletes who took to hitting the hard stuff and confiding in her because they didn’t dare show any sign of weakness to their closest friends.
But weakness, she knew, could lie in failing to recognize one’s limits. Strength often meant asking for help.
One side of her mouth curled up in a half grin. That was true of humans. Did it apply to dragon shifters too?
“Hey,” she whispered before Silas caught her peeking.
He turned, flashing a weary smile. “Hey.”
Which just went to prove that the mysterious Mr. Llewellyn wasn’t as aloof or proper as he often seemed.
“You doing okay?” she asked, though she could guess what his answer would be.
“Fine.” His smile grew in size but not in sincerity. “And you?”
She laughed. The truth or not the truth? “I get these how-the-fuck-did-I-get-here and what-will-I-do-next moments—”
His grin was genuine, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant.
“—but in between, I look around and think, hey, I can handle this.” She gestured out at the view.
She gulped and added, For now, at least.
Silas followed her hand. His chest rose on a deep inhale, and for one instant, his teeth caught his lips in a wistful expression. Then he smiled at her. “It is nice, isn’t it?”
She nodded, smiling brightly. Silas had his studly moments, but this — this vulnerable, titan side of him — was just as appealing. The real him?
Of course, Eloise had another warning about dragons, and it ghosted through Cassandra’s mind.
Be careful, my dear. Dragons have a way of seducing fair maidens.
She had snorted that off at the time, because she hardly qualified as fair or a maiden. But considering the way she was starting to feel about Silas…
She tapped the doorframe with her knuckles, reminding herself she’d better go.
“Goodnight, Silas.”
He was so formal, so careful to keep his distance at times. And now that he’d had a moment to collect himself, she half expected him to say Goodnight, Miss Nichols.
“Goodnight, Cassandra,” he whispered.
She smiled then forced herself to turn and pad down the stairs.