Forever (Book #3 in the Fateful Series)

• Chapter 1 - Moonlit Monsters
  
• Chapter 2 - The Things of Nightmares
  
• Chapter 3 - Internal Turmoil
  
• Chapter 4 - Return to The Fey
  
• Chapter 5 - Fairy-Dusted Retreat
  
• Chapter 6 - Side Effect
  
• Chapter 7 - Derry Glen Cove
  
• Chapter 8 - Worse Than Spiders?
  
• Chapter 9 - Leave by Choice, or Not
  
• Chapter 10 - Escape—Maybe Not
  
• Chapter 11 - Sir Roland
  
• Chapter 12 - Lies
  
• Chapter 13 - Werewolves, Vampires, and Witches
  
• Chapter 14 - Werewolves and Little Red Riding Hood
  
• Chapter 15 - Time’s Run Out
  
• Chapter 16 - The End
  
• Chapter 17 - Forever
  
• Epilogue - Four Years Later
  
• Upcoming works by Cheri
  
• Excerpt from Fair Maiden
  
• Thank You
  

Forever

Book Three of the Fateful Series

By

 Cheri Schmidt

Chapter 1

Moonlit Monsters

I’ll do anything to wipe that pout off her face
, Ethan thought to himself as he watched Danielle wash the paint out of her paintbrush while he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest.

Her shoulders lifted and then drooped with the troubled sigh she expelled. Moonlight filtered in through the skylight above her art studio and bathed her in silver. The lamp painted the rest of the room in gold. With her eyebrows drawn together, her thick lashes shadowing her cheeks with her downcast gaze, her soft hair caught up in a messy bun at the back of her head, and the earrings he’d given her dangling from her earlobes, she was prettier to him than the painting she’d just finished. And it was one of her better pieces. In shades of brown, cream, and pale blue, she’d captured another fairy in a soft wash of watercolors.

When Danielle was finished cleaning up her work, he gathered her under his arm. A little pressure on her shoulder and he had her facing him. Catching her chin on the edge of his finger, he said, “I like the fairy trapped in a jar, but she doesn’t look very happy.”

Those lashes swept up along with her chin when she looked at him. “Would
you
be happy if you were confined like that?”

Ethan noted the guards in his peripheral, knowing Danielle was talking about herself with that query and not the displeased little sprite in her painting. “I see your point.” He brushed the hair from her forehead. “Let’s watch that picture we rented,” he offered, hoping to distract her from the guards posted at each door and window inside their home as he steered her toward the sofa.

The pout deepened and those pretty brown eyes of hers darted to the guard near the window where the full moon was just visible beyond the sheer curtain and the man’s hulking shoulder. A twinge of jealously jabbed him in the gut even though he was fairly certain she was looking at the moon and not the handsome French bodyguard who’d said his name was Casanova ... Casanova, really? This situation had continued for so long, the guards were always rotating. As Beon, Richard, and Seth had assigned new men to guard them, it had gotten to the point that even he didn’t know all of them. And why did they all have to be so bloody good-looking? Of course he trusted Danielle, but it wouldn’t take much for one of these guys to take him out, and then collect her for his own.

Forget them
, Ethan mentally commanded and refocused on the lines of distress on Danielle’s face. He really needed to fix that. Drawing her down onto the seat next to him, he lowered his voice and muttered right next to her ear, “Forget we live in a fishbowl for an hour and a half and I’ll make popcorn.” Leaning out to make eye contact with her, he wagged his eyebrows and a shout of triumph echoed through his thoughts when she giggled at him. Her whole face lit up with the sound and he decided he’d not only do anything to wipe the pout off her face, he’d do even more to hear her laugh again, to hear her laugh more often.

Things had gone back to normal after they’d returned to being mortal. Sort of ... mostly.... Secretly, though, he missed her need to feed from only him. The way she clung to him when she sank her little fangs into his flesh, the way she needed him, the way she still feared insects even being as dangerous as she was then. It was back to mortality for both of them, however, and he didn’t, no he couldn’t, regret that. He still planned to care for her despite that modern streak of independence she had. Danielle was an intriguing bundle of contradictions. He found her fascination with all things Jane Austen charming. It was part of what drew him to her because she reminded him of his Victorian past, even in a modern world. But the fact that she could sweep his feet right out from under him in one smooth move ... well, that brought a smirk to his mouth when he thought about it. That violent side of her also drew him. Of course, more than any of that was what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Their forgotten past together and the personality quirks she tried to hide from everyone else.

“With extra butter?” Danielle asked, drawing him back to their previous topic of conversation.

“Of course,” he replied as he stood, removed the movie from its case and slid it into the DVD player.

When her gaze again shifted to one of the five guards in the room and the smile slipped, he hesitated to say, “I’ll return, with a slice of chocolate cake, a cup of peach tea, and a bowl of buttery popcorn.”

At the mention of chocolate and her favorite tea, the corners of her adorable mouth lifted again, but only slightly as she sank back into the soft couch that nearly enveloped her in lumps of bulging, taupe fabric and fluff. Of course Ethan knew Danielle was worried about werewolves, and probably remembering when they’d invaded their home in Colorado. Now the problem had followed them to their home in England. But as long as she didn’t bring it up, he certainly wasn’t about to.

After entering the kitchen, he started the water first, then pulled out a silver platter, and a teacup and saucer—the one with the little roses around the edge, as well as one rosebud just below the lip on the inside. It was the one she fancied drinking from the most. He figured it was because she liked to watch the rosebud disappear and reappear as she drank.
What a silly little quirk.... 
Ethan smiled. After arranging a bottle of honey and a small creamer filled with cream on the tray for her, he gathered a plate and fork for the cake.

He took a bag of popcorn out of the cupboard, tore off the plastic and set it in the microwave. After programming and starting it, he turned to the cake dome. At that moment, loud crashing sounds came from the living room, followed by shouts from the guards and a scream from his wife.

Bloody Hell!
In two seconds he was back in the living room taking in the scene.

Broken glass littered the floor from the front window. The thin curtains had been shredded to bits, leaving only a few ghost-like strips of material hanging from the rod. It had been raining outside, so the room was now humid and smelled of wet grass and ... wet animal. Werewolves were again trying to claw their way in through one of the windows. With a lump in his throat, Ethan watched as their guards blocked the monsters’ attempted entrance with their bodies and threw powerful fists into their hideous and snarling faces. Just as in the past, the beasts never got any farther than this. Some of the tension left his shoulders. They were safe.

Ethan’s gaze swung to Danielle. She was still sitting on the sofa, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms curled around her bent legs. That pout that he’d wanted to remove earlier was back along with a deep scowl. She didn’t look particularly frightened that the monthly worry was actually happening, just extremely frustrated. That was probably because this had become a pattern and there wasn’t any surprise in the event any longer, and as before, the problem was being contained.

Every month this had happened. Every month these damn werewolves tried to gain entrance into their home. Again Ethan took in the sight before him. Werewolves were not at all like dogs as many perceived or as Hollywood portrayed them. They stood upright, were physically larger than mortal men but the men behind the mask could be faintly seen beneath the flickering image of the beast over them. Long hairy arms with claw-tipped hands swung at the vampires blocking their way. Clearly they were not mindless in this state either. They obviously had a purpose and were after Danielle. He wouldn’t stand for it any longer. Cursing again, he felt his hands curl into fists as he started toward the threat to his home, to his wife. A hand caught his arm. “You’re mortal, laddie,” Merrick growled in a low timber, his eyes lowered to protect Ethan from the magic there. “Take Danielle upstairs.”

His pride stung at the reminder of his weakened state. But knowing he’d be physically forced to follow the command if he didn’t obey, his feet ate up the floor between where he stood and his wife.

Her arms fell to the cushion as she tore her eyes from the scuffle and her gaze met with his. She wasn’t crying. She actually looked rather ticked off. He was angry too. This had to come to an end ... didn’t it? First she had vampires hunting her and now it seemed every other magical creature in existence was after her. The worst part of this was that they didn’t know why the others wanted her.

Brown eyes followed his hand as he lifted it, reaching for her. Their fingers touched and then linked. Her hand was cold ... as usual.

“Did you really think you could destroy me so easily?” drawled a familiar voice from the window.

Ethan’s eyes snapped to the origin of the words with his heart sinking to his knees. Lucas ... barely recognizable with the image of the beast flickering over his features. With one foot up on the edge of the windowsill, the blackguard tried to get past Casanova. Casanova pounded Lucas with his fists. With each strike, Lucas rocked back, but with a look of determination, the werewolf would simply lunge forward again. Casanova’s efforts were preventing the beast from gaining entrance, but Lucas hadn’t yet given up and moved away from the open window.

Danielle gasped, drawing a return of his gaze. Her bored expression had fallen away and was replaced with shocked panic. The werewolf concern had just escalated from a monthly annoyance into a personal threat because Lucas had become one of them.

Swallowing, Ethan worried what this might mean for her. He’d once told her she should fear Lucas. It would seem the warning remained valid. The distress encompassing her features now certainly expressed Lucas was still a thing of her nightmares.

In truth, it was worse than she imagined.... The battle between him and Lucas ran deep and long. He’d never shared many of the details with her. Why further distress her? That first night when Lucas had stalked her and he’d saved her, he knew Lucas had seen the recognition that ignited between him and Danielle—had seen the way they somehow knew one another from a spirit life before this earthly one. It’s true that Ethan had recognized it before Danielle had, and maybe that was because he believed that everyone had existed in spirit before being born into this life. Not that he could recall it, certainly no one, or few, remembered their spiritual life before this one. He should have schooled his shocked expression better though, Ethan thought with self-disparagement, because he was fairly certain that was what clued Lucas in to the connection, and therefore put her in more danger. He also knew Lucas would be relentless in pursuing her because of it. This was all his fault, from the very beginning. The way he’d handled Lucas was why she was in danger then and now.

Blades of guilt snagged at his soul, and concern lodged itself in his throat. He and Lucas had been friends in school. In 1851. But Lucas had become a debaucher of innocent young ladies. A vicious one. Ethan really had no idea when Lucas’ soul became so very dark. On first impressions, Lucas had seemed quite charming and funny. Perhaps it was his cruel father who’d misdirected his path, but Ethan found it hard to explain the problem that way when their other friend, William, who’d also suffered at his father’s hand, was nothing but gentle and kind to everyone he met. As a friend, Lucas had been a part of their activities until Phoebe.... His stomach churned at the memory of seeing his sister’s friend beaten and broken in body and spirit. The poor girl had never truly recovered, and he couldn’t allow that to happen to Danielle.

He and the other young men of his class had tried to stop Lucas. They’d beaten him in punishment for harming dear Phoebe. Lucas had learned nothing, however, even after a stay in the hospital recovering from many broken bones. Once he’d healed, the violent acts resumed. Yet he became elusive and they were never able to corner him again. When an unfortunate young woman was murdered, he’d fled the city and left a trail of damaged females in his brutal wake. Of course they’d pursued him, still wishing to spare any ladies who might stumble into his path, but they never found him. And then they heard nothing of Lucas for years. They all suspected he’d fallen prey to any number of his dark pursuits: gambling, drinking, or shady business dealings.

It wasn’t until about nine years later, after Ethan had been cursed, that the villain resurfaced. And that’s when he realized Lucas had also been turned into a vampire. Lucas had continued to kill, but he was simply better at hiding it as a cursed being than he had been as a mortal. Either way, Lucas was a monster to the very core. At that time, Ethan’s motivation to stop Lucas was renewed and he rallied The Order to help him. Again they were a hindrance to Lucas’ brutal killings, to his hunting, but Lucas always managed to stay just beyond their grasp and they were never able to put a stop to him permanently.