CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shelly was sad to leave the island the next morning. She had only been there for two days, but she felt connected…somehow…to the place. She could very easily be seduced by the setting into doing anything Mark asked, without thinking things all the way through. Thinking over every decision was her thing.
Some people took leaps of faith. Shelly definitely looked a few times and inspected every angle before she leapt anywhere. She had a cautious nature that made her good at her profession, but when faced with a situation like the one she was in right now with Mark, her mind became a muddle of confusion. She needed some space to sit quietly and think things through.
Beautiful as it was, she knew she wouldn’t get the distance or perspective she needed on the island. No, she had to be away from this tropical paradise, back in her own element. In her own house. The space she had claimed just for herself, with all her comfortable objects and possessions around her.
Only then could she find the calm center of the whirlwind she’d been riding since that dinner party where Mark had been targeted for assassination. It seems like months ago now, and it had only been a couple of days. Time was skewed. That was another thing she had to sit down and think about. Everything had happened so fast. She couldn’t keep up.
Once she was home, working in her own studio, in familiar surroundings, she would be able to regain her balance. At least, that was the plan. A small part of her worried that something about this trip, and Mark, had changed her forever. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had happened, but she thought she knew when.
It had been when they made love in the caldera of the volcano. Something had definitely happened then. She still wasn’t sure what to call it, or what the implications for the future might be. Mark kept insisting she was somehow magical, but that couldn’t be right. Could it?
“I can’t be seen with you just yet,” Mark explained as they flew back toward her home on the mainland in a different luxury jet from the one they’d arrived in. How many of these things did he own? “We’re going to take extra precautions, just in case.”
She grew concerned at his worried expression. Was there a reason to fear? Or… She hated to think this… But was this the big brush off? Had the playboy billionaire gotten what he wanted and now wasn’t interested anymore?
Shelly had a hard time believing that, but some niggling echo of doubt wouldn’t let the thought go. She hadn’t had a lot of experience with men—and certainly not those in Mark’s circles. She was no supermodel. No foreign beauty who would do anything for a rich man who paid her bills. She was just a good architect from a formerly well-to-do family. Not much of a catch, really, for a man who could have anything—or anyone—he wanted.
Self-doubt was a terrible thing, but Shelly was as susceptible to it as anyone else. Maybe even more, since she and her father had never had a truly close relationship. After her mother died, she had wanted to reach out to him, but he had been dealing with his own grief. Even though her father still lived and they saw each other often at society functions and the obligatory celebrations and holidays, they weren’t really that close. Shelly had tried repeatedly to get to know her dad better, but he was a very controlled sort of man.
She knew he loved her, of course, but he wasn’t excessively demonstrative. They did have a good working relationship, though. He’d often send her invitations—like the one to the dinner where she’d encountered Mark—that he thought would help her network for her architectural business. He thought about her and was helpful, but he wasn’t a doting father by any stretch of the imagination.
It had been hard not to feel rejected on occasion when she’d tried to deepen the relationship and her father had backed off.
Was Mark now rejecting her too? She didn’t want to believe it, but it just might be true.
Oh, Goddess, what was she going to do?
Right then, she realized she was already in way over her head with this man. She’d been so cautious, but it had all been for naught. Mark had cast the spell, and she’d fallen. Head over heels, she’d fallen.
Mark didn’t like the look on Shelly’s face, but he figured she would forgive him once she realized he had other plans in mind to circumvent any possible surveillance. He’d had his people watching her house while they’d been on the island. His people had also been busy installing state-of-the-art security hardware on her land. He held the passwords and all the control. Nobody but he—and a few trusted Clan members—could get to her by conventional means now. Not without tripping an alarm. And Mark had made damned sure it would be jaguars answering that alarm, if it ever came. If not him, personally, then one of his trusted Clan members.
Shelly was one of them now, and jaguars took care of their own. She may not be a shifter, but she was his mate, and after the past two days, the heart of the Clan was well on their way to accepting her. Now if he could just convince her.
“I’ve had some security measures added to your property. Nothing you’ll see—or at least you shouldn’t. It’s all well hidden and camouflaged, and the signals go directly to my people,” he told her. Maybe she’d see his need to protect her as the declaration it really was.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she protested, but her expression had changed from one of doubt and worry to something more thoughtful. Good.
“It’s my pleasure to look after you,” he told her, bringing her hand to his lips because he just couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her. To kiss her. To remind her that she was his. Even if she hadn’t agreed to that just yet. “I’ll come to you tonight, if at all possible. First, I have a few things I need to put in place, but when it’s safe, I will come to you, no matter where you are, no matter the time.”
He kissed her fingertips, one at a time. Those magical little digits that had sparked the heart of a dormant volcano. How she could continue in the belief that she had no magic was incredible to him. How could she not see it?
But the look of doubt had disappeared from her eyes now, which gratified him. He didn’t want her to worry about anything. Especially not his commitment to her. Ever.
He knew, of course, that such things took time among humans. Magical as she was, she still believed she was completely human—and had grown up with human standards. He had to be patient. The Goddess was making him work for this, it was true, but he wouldn’t be any kind of an Alpha if he couldn’t appreciate a challenge.
Mark let Shelly go with great reluctance when they landed on the mainland an hour later. He’d spent the flight talking with her in low, intimate tones, when he would much rather have been doing something a lot more intimate than merely talking. Joining the Mile High Club with her was definitely on his to-do list, but not today. Not in this particular plane, which had no private sleeping compartment.
Another one of their jets did, and he hoped to take her with him some place suitably distant enough that they would have sufficient time to put that big bed to good use. But that was a plan for another day. Today, he had to check in with the security team watching her house and get updates from a number of his subordinates, as well as the Midtown wolf Pack, who had been helping. There was work to do, and plenty of it.
Mark hit the ground running and didn’t slow down for anything. The faster he got his work done, the sooner he could sneak into Shelly’s house and make love with her. With incentive like that, he couldn’t fail.
Work done for the day, Mark was already in his car—a sleek Italian sports car he liked to take out on long drives—when his cell phone rang. It was the Midtown Pack Alpha, relaying a message from his brother, who had been helping with surveillance on Shelly’s home, along with a few other wolves. It was a good trade—the younger brother got real-world experience and training from some of Mark’s senior people, and the jaguars got extra manpower from a local source, with potentially different local sources of intel.
Cassius reported a sighting of one of the cars they had been on the lookout for. They had a short list of persons of interest headed by the jackass who had accosted Shelly in the elevator of the hotel. Venifucus agent Antony Mason had three vehicles that they knew of, and all three were on a watch list for those stationed around Shelly’s home.
Mason reportedly lived in New Jersey, so seeing one of his vehicles in Shelly’s neighborhood was highly suspect. There were few legitimate reasons for him to be there. Especially at this time of night.
It was well after midnight, with few cars on the road, so Mark felt no trepidation in flooring the gas pedal and making for Shelly’s as quickly as possible. He could feel it now. The closer he got to her place, the more something felt…not right. Threatening.
A gathering gloom in the night made him slow down. His headlights cut a path through the dark miasma like a spoon sliding through thick soup. Pea soup fog was something Northeasterners experienced every once in awhile, but this was dark, not the white of fog. His car’s headlights weren’t reflected off water vapor; instead, they were swallowed up by the darkness itself.
This could not be good.
Mark tried dialing every number he had for Shelly, but nothing went through. Then, he tried to get in touch with his security detail around her house. Same problem. They’d been cut off.
Mark called the Midtown Alpha back and asked for backup to be sent, but he had the sinking feeling they wouldn’t get there in time. This would be up to whoever was already there, and Mark alone was the cavalry.
Goddess help them all.
*
Shelly shivered, pulling her cardigan closer around her body and rubbing her upper arms. She was up late, which wasn’t abnormal for her when she really got immersed in a project. Seeing the island had been inspirational in so many ways. Ideas were sparking in her mind, and she knew she would stay up as long as she could to get as many of them down on paper as possible.
There was so much to be done there. So much they could do with that beautiful landscape and magical location. She’d already fleshed out the sketches she’d made for the community center. She was getting into the nitty-gritty details of plumbing, electrical, and room layouts now. One of her favorite parts of any job. This was the stage where she could imagine people living in and using the fixtures and furniture she made room for in her designs. It was sort of like playing with an imaginary dollhouse on paper that would, someday, become real. Full-scale.
She’d always thought that was a lot of fun. How many people got to see their dreams become reality in such a tangible way?
But something had interrupted her train of thought. She’d been sitting at her drafting table, working the old-fashioned way with pencil and paper, rulers and grids, but something had disturbed her. She’d stood, felt the cold and checked the thermostat, but unless it was reading incorrectly, the house was at a comfortable seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit. They way she always kept it.
So then, why was she cold?
She glanced out the window then looked again. The garden was dark. Completely dark in a way that wasn’t normal. Shelly scowled. What was going on out there? Had they forecast fog? But that didn’t look like fog…
Her hands started to tingle, and a buzzing sound echoed through the house. Only the sound wasn’t registering in her ears, but in her mind. It was a silent hum that felt like a billion angry wasps droning around her head. What the…?
A flash of sickly green roiled through the black outside like an oil slick. Only, this wasn’t even remotely pretty. It was putrid. The buzzing intensified as she watched the tendril of green ooze approach her home.
As she watched it get closer and closer, it suddenly stopped. Halted, as if it had run into a brick wall, about five feet from her house. She watched as it spread outward and then upward, seeking a break in the invisible shield that, somehow, was protecting her home from…whatever this was.
It streaked upward, right past the window through which she was looking. She leaned closer to see it go up past the rooftop then curve overhead, as if there was a dome over her house. What in the world?
Movement from the driveway caught her eye. Shelly looked down to see the man from the elevator stepping out of the darkness. It seemed to be coming from him, somehow. Accepting him. Liking the feel of him. That alone made her feel sick to her stomach. There was something very wrong with that blackness. Something disgusting about it. Something…evil.
Antony, she remembered. He’d said his name was Antony Mason. But what in the world was he doing here? Had he been watching for her? Waiting for her to return? And why?
She had a sinking feeling she knew why. He was after Mark. He’d been way too interested in the events of that night in Manhattan. He’d been friendly with the shooter, no matter that he claimed later not to be. This man was a liar. And that was the least of his sins, she was sure.
How she knew that, she didn’t fully understand, but she felt the truth of it in her heart. The buzzing increased again as he strode through the black wrongness that seemed to welcome him. He walked right up to her front door—or as close as he could get to it, which looked like that same five-foot barrier that the green goo had faced.
He stood there, looking at the remnants of the green plasma, now dissipating as it swirled harmlessly against whatever that shield was around her house. Was that something Mark’s people had put in place? She’d have to ask him.
Antony lifted one hand to try to touch the barrier, but it gave him a sizzling white shock of mini-lightning that had him pulling his hand back with a curse. Whatever it was, the barrier had stopped this Antony guy in his tracks. He had his hands on his hips, staring at it, and his face was contorted with anger.
“You will not keep me out, mistress of the cat,” he spat, raising his gaze to meet hers as she gasped in shock. That he’d known exactly where she was standing creeped her out.
“Go away,” she shouted, unsure if he could even hear her through the glass, but needing to say something.
“I’m not going anywhere without your blood, cat-whore!” he said in a voice that somehow carried up to her window and through it to reach her ears. Or maybe it was buzzing in her mind the way that…energy…or whatever it was, had done.
“Why?” she whispered, wanting to know what fueled the rage she saw on Antony’s face. “Why Mark? Why are you doing this?”
“That fucking cat stands in the way of my plans and my promotion within the ranks of the Venifucus. Kill him and I move up to stand at the foot of the altar to the Mater Priori, Elspeth, the Destroyer of Worlds.” Antony practically salivated as he said the words, then seemed to sober. “This was the task I was given. Kill the jaguar, and my future is assured,” he said as if repeating a sick and twisted mantra.
“Never,” Shelly said, not sure how or if Antony could hear her, but it had to be said. The world could no longer exist without Mark in it. At least not for her.
The droning sound in the back of her mind rose as Antony backed up a few paces then held out both arms in front of him, and that green plasma shot from both of his hands. It was a concentrated attack on the barrier only a few feet away. The green was way more intense this time. Bright, sickly green that made her want to puke.
The feel of it against her home—for, she realized, she could feel the attack inside her own body in some strange sort of way—made her feel sick. And then, it made her angry. So angry, she marched down the stairs and threw open the front door before she even knew what she was doing.
“Stop!” she screamed at Antony, lifting her own hands and letting her rage at his attack pour out. How dare he come here and try to hurt her? How dare he target Mark for death? How dare he attack her in her own territory? On her own ground? Outrage filled her and roiled in her blood.
Those red sparks she had seen first on the island were back, and there was no doubt, this time, that they came directly from her. Mark wasn’t around. She couldn’t explain away the magic as being some kind of byproduct of his presence. No, this was all on her. All from her. She would own it, and she would control it. And she would use it to defend her home in any way possible.
Much to her surprise, Antony flew back, into the trees across the width of her driveway. As he disappeared into the darkness, she heard him scream, followed by wet crunching sounds that made her wince.
Had she really just done that? Had she propelled a grown man with obvious magical power away from her house with only those innocent-looking red sparks? Shelly looked down at her hands, expecting to see burns, but she was whole, untouched. If she hadn’t just witnessed it herself, she wouldn’t really believe it.
The sickly black receded as quickly as it had rolled in, and the sickly green plasma was nowhere to be seen when a sleek black jaguar prowled out of the cleansing mist of a normal fog that lay delicately in the trees and on her driveway. It was as if the evil had been swept away by a cleansing breath of fog.
She knew the jaguar. It was Mark.
Maybe those sparks hadn’t been hers, after all?
No. There was no way she could weasel her way out of this one. She had to take ownership of the strange magic that seemed to have taken up residence in her soul. She had no doubt in her mind that exposure to Mark, and his people, had brought on this strange magic, but she also felt like it was here to stay. Once awakened, there was no stuffing this genie back in its bottle.
She liked the thought of that. But she wasn’t sure if they were totally out of danger yet. Antony had disappeared into the trees, and she had a good idea what had happened to him after that, considering Mark’s presence. Had Antony come alone? Or did he have friends waiting in the wings?
Shelly sent out her senses in search. She didn’t think the fog would come in and the darkness recede if they were still in danger, but Mark looked extra vigilant as he prowled up to the barrier that still seemed to be in place. He sniffed at it, even tested it with one paw. It didn’t reject him like it had Antony, but it also didn’t let him in.
“Is it safe?” she whispered to Mark, so close, yet so far away. She suspected that, if she wanted to cross the barrier, she could, but she wasn’t sure if she would be able to come back.
Mark shifted shape in a shower of dark sparkles. One minute, he was a cat. The next, he was a very handsome, very naked man.
“Better stay behind the ward for now,” he told her. “We took some casualties from the fog and the plasma. I have backup on the way, but we’re going to be busy out here for a little while.”
“Casualties?” She gulped. “Is everyone still alive?” Dear Goddess, she hoped nobody had paid the ultimate price to protect her.
“All alive on our side, and it looks like it’ll stay that way. How about you? Are you okay?” His gaze spoke of his concern, and she felt tears well up behind her eyes.
She’d been so strong up to this point. She wouldn’t weaken now. Not when Mark had others to see to. He needed her to be strong. She knew that. She could fall apart later. When it was just them, alone together.
“I’m fine. You probably saw… He never even got close to the house. This barrier thing sprung up out of nowhere and encapsulated the whole structure. Did your people do this?” She looked up at the night sky, once again visible now that the inky blackness Antony had spawned was gone. Stars sparkled down on them, and a light layer of fog rolled around their ankles.
“No, querida, that was already here. It is something we call a ward. It’s a magical thing created by mages, not usually shifters, and certainly none of the people I left here have this kind of power. Someone else is protecting you.” His gaze turned concerned.
“Seriously?” Shelly couldn’t think who could have possibly put such a thing around her house without her knowing it.
“Do you know any magic users? Mages? Witches? Wizards?” His lopsided smile was both amused and sexy as hell. Damn, she wanted to touch those broad shoulders.
“Um…none of the above. As far as I know.” Just then, her telephone started ringing in the house. It was the landline.
“Your phone lines weren’t working before,” Mark offered.
“None of them?” She’d had her cell phone charging on the desk next to her while she worked and hadn’t heard a single beep from it all night long.
“Not a one. I couldn’t reach you or any of my people. You’d better go see who that is,” he told her gently. “I’m going to be out in the woods for a bit. Meet you back here in fifteen minutes?”
“Deal.” He turned away, and the phone was still ringing, but she had to say something. “And Mark?” He turned back to meet her gaze. “Thank you.” She tried to put everything she was feeling into those two simple words.
He nodded, and she thought he probably understood. He’d helped save her life tonight. She honestly didn’t know how she would have handled Antony alone. She might’ve been able to repulse him with her sparks, but that might have just been beginner’s luck. Mark had done the heavy lifting.
She had a pretty good idea that he’d just killed to save her, and far from being repulsed by the idea, she was more thankful than she could express. He’d proven that he would protect her. He’d put himself on the line for her. To Shelly, there was no greater declaration than that.
A shower of dark sparkles against the fog and Mark was back to his black panther form. He stalked into the woods, disappearing from sight between one moment and the next. He was really good at that stealth stuff.
Shelly raced back into the house to pick up the landline that was still ringing.
“Hello?” She might’ve sounded a little out of breath, but it didn’t matter. Nobody should be calling her this late at night.