Mistress of the Storm (23 page)
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When I was working on this Storm trilogy, I searched for areas to use as locations for my stories. I needed places that had Viking/Norse influences or history, legends tying them to the sith, or the Fae as they’re called in other places, and a time period that worked with both (Vikings and sith).
I was led to the Hebrides and Orkney.
I’d done a lot of research to set up the stories at the beginning but in the autumn of 2009 I had the chance to visit Scotland before writing the novella, the second, and third books. I’m glad I did it then!
Connor’s story is set on Mull, Gavin’s in Orkney and the north coast of Scotland, and Duncan’s is in one of my most favorite places to visit—the Isle of Skye. Although there is a rich history in all those places detailing the influence and control of the Vikings, Skye has a place related to the sith that has centuries of legends to explain it.
The fairy glen in my story is a real place near Uig on Skye. If you follow a small road off the main one leading into the harbor at Uig and go past a couple farms, you will find it. Although the road goes right through it, you have to walk it to feel the specialness of the place and to get the best views.
As Duncan described it in this story, it is unlike any other place in Scotland, formed as though the hills were built up in layers and covered with grass as a decoration. The ruins of a lone tower stand watch over it. The surrounding hills seem to lead to a small lake.
I found this glen when reading a book of Scottish folk and fairy tales about Skye. It seems that in days of old, a fiddler from the village of Uig was asked to play at a ceilidh in the glen. Paid well, he went and played all night at the boisterous event, returning to his home in the morning—only to discover three months had passed and he’d been playing for the sith in their land, where time passes differently!
Photos of this glen are all over the internet if you’d like to take a look at the place. If you visit Skye, take time to stop there . . . and make sure to listen for the laughter of the sith which is still heard in that glen.
Good girls should NEVER CRY WOLF.
But who wants to be good?
Be sure to pick up Cynthia Eden’s latest novel, out now!
But who wants to be good?
Be sure to pick up Cynthia Eden’s latest novel, out now!
L
ucas didn’t take the woman back to his house on Bryton Road. The place was probably still crawling with cops and reporters, and he didn’t feel like dealing with all that crap.
ucas didn’t take the woman back to his house on Bryton Road. The place was probably still crawling with cops and reporters, and he didn’t feel like dealing with all that crap.
He called his first in command, Piers Stratus, to let him know that he was out of jail and to tell him that there were two unwanted coyotes in town.
The woman—Sarah—didn’t speak while he drove. He could feel the waves of tension rolling off her, shaking her body.
She was scared. She’d done a fair job of hiding her fear back at the police station and then at the park, at first anyway. But as the darkness had fallen, he’d seen the fear. Smelled it.
Sarah had known she was being hunted.
He pushed a button on his remote. The wrought-iron gates before him opened and revealed the curving drive that led to his second LA home. In the hills, it gave him a great view of the city below, and that view let know him when company was coming, long before any unexpected guests arrived.
When the gate shut behind him, he saw Sarah sag slightly, settling back into her seat. The scent of her fear finally eased.
Like most of his kind, he usually enjoyed the smell of fear. But he didn’t . . . like the scent on her.
He much preferred the softer scent, like vanilla cream, that he could all but taste as it clung to her skin. Perhaps he would get a taste, later.
With a flick of his wrist, he killed the ignition. The house was right in front of them. Two stories. Long, tall windows.
And, hopefully, no more dead bodies waited on the steps here.
He eased out of the car, stretching slowly. Then he walked around and opened the door for Sarah. As any man would, Lucas admired the pale flash of thigh when her skirt crept up. And he wondered just what secrets the lovely lady was keeping from him.
“We’re going in to talk.” An order. He wanted to know everything, starting with why the dead human had been at
his place.
his place.
She gave a quick nod. “Okay, I—”
A wolf bounded out of the house. A flash of black fur. Golden eyes. Teeth.
Shit.
It wasn’t safe for the kid. Not until he found out what was going on—
It wasn’t safe for the kid. Not until he found out what was going on—
The wolf ran to him. Tossed back his head and howled.
Sarah laughed softly.
Laughed.
His stare shot to her just in time to catch the smile on her lips. His hand lifted, and almost helplessly, he traced that smile with his fingertips.
Her breath caught.
Lucas ignored the tightening in his gut. “Shouldn’t you be afraid?” After the coyotes, he’d expected her to flinch away from any other shifters. And Jordan was one big wolf, with claws and teeth that could easily rip a woman like Sarah apart.
She looked back at the wolf who watched them. “He’s so young, little more than a kid. One who is glad you’re—”
No.
Understanding dawned, fast and brutal in his mind.
I’m more than human.
She’d told him that, he just hadn’t understood exactly
what
she was. Until now.
I’m more than human.
She’d told him that, he just hadn’t understood exactly
what
she was. Until now.
His hands locked around her arms and Lucas pulled her up against him. Nose to nose, close enough so that he could see the dark gold glimmering in the depths of her green eyes. “Jordan, get the hell out of here.” He gave the order to his brother without ever looking away from her.
The wolf growled.
“Go!”
The young wolf pushed against his leg—
letting me know he’s pissed, ’cause Jordan hates when I boss his ass
—and then the wolf backed away.
letting me know he’s pissed, ’cause Jordan hates when I boss his ass
—and then the wolf backed away.
“Now for you, sweetheart.” His fingers tightened. “Why don’t we just go back to that part about you not being human?”
Her lips parted. She had nice lips—sexy and plump. He shouldn’t be noticing them, not then, but he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about her. The gold hoops in her dainty ears. The streaks of gold buried deep in her dark hair. The lotion she’d rubbed on her body—that vanilla scent was driving him wild.
He was turned on, achingly hard, for a woman he barely knew. Not normally a big deal. He had a more than a healthy sex drive. Most shifters did. The animal inside liked to play.
But Sarah . . . he didn’t
trust
her, not for a minute, and he didn’t usually have sex with women he didn’t trust. A man could be vulnerable to attack when he was fucking.
trust
her, not for a minute, and he didn’t usually have sex with women he didn’t trust. A man could be vulnerable to attack when he was fucking.
“You know what I am, Lucas,” she said and shrugged, the move both careless and fake because he knew that she cared, too much.
“
Tell me.
” Her mouth was so close. He could still taste her. That kiss earlier had just been a tease.
Tell me.
” Her mouth was so close. He could still taste her. That kiss earlier had just been a tease.
If you liked this book, try Dani Harper’s
CHANGELING DREAM,
in stores now . . .
CHANGELING DREAM,
in stores now . . .
W
hat kind of woman runs after a wolf?
hat kind of woman runs after a wolf?
James was no closer to answering that question than he had been many hours before when he had paused in the clinic loft, two bounds away from the open window, and listened to the human calling after the white wolf. He had been startled to find the woman up and around so close to dawn, but more surprised by her reaction when she spotted him. She should have been terrified, should have been screaming. Instead she had stopped still, remaining quiet until he melted back into the darkness—then had plunged forward in a vain attempt to follow him. She acted as if she knew the wolf, but how could that be? There was something else too; something in her voice had almost compelled him to—what? Answer her? Reveal himself? He didn’t know. The woman had gone from room to room then, switching on every light, searching.
He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t check the loft. After all, it was fifteen feet above the ground floor and accessible only by a vertical ladder. A wolf couldn’t climb it, and she had no way of knowing that what she pursued was not a wolf and that the ladder was no impediment to him at all. The stack of bales outside, from which he had initially leapt, was more than thirty feet from the loading door of the loft. Only a very large tiger might cross such a span. Or a Changeling.
James felt a strange disappointment tugging at his senses, almost a regret that the woman had not found him.
Who are you? Why do I know you?
Within his lupine body, James chuffed out a breath in frustration.
And why do I care?
The angle of the fading light told him it was time to hunt, that deer would be on the move. Weary of human thoughts and human concerns, he relaxed into his wolf nature and disappeared beneath it.
Who are you? Why do I know you?
Within his lupine body, James chuffed out a breath in frustration.
And why do I care?
The angle of the fading light told him it was time to hunt, that deer would be on the move. Weary of human thoughts and human concerns, he relaxed into his wolf nature and disappeared beneath it.
“What a tourist I am!” Jillian berated herself for not bringing a cell phone, for not paying more attention to the time, for traveling in the bush alone, for not packing at least a chocolate bar. Two chocolate bars. Maybe three. The energy bars she’d brought tasted like wet cardboard. She made a long mental list of the things she was going to do to be more prepared for the next hike, because as difficult as the trail was, she simply had to go back to that rocky plateau, had to see if the wolves would return. Was it part of their territory or were they just passing through?
The sun was long gone. Stars were pinning a deep indigo sky, and a full moon was floating just above the horizon. It had climbed enough to glimmer through the trees and lay a broad swath of light over the surface of the river when Jillian finally found the marked hiking trail. Compared to the goat path she’d been traveling, the graveled corridor was like a wide paved highway, level and free of overhanging brush and fallen logs. It promised easier, faster travel in spite of the darkness. She was still two and a half, maybe three, miles from the truck she had borrowed from the clinic, but at least now she had a direct route.
The flashback broadsided her without warning.
It might have been the crunch of gravel beneath her feet, the rustle of leaves in the trees, or the scent of the river, but whatever the trigger, she was suddenly on another trail by another river. Phantom images, sounds, even smells burst vividly upon her senses. Jillian stumbled forward and fell to her knees, skinning them both right through her jeans. She rolled and sat, but clasped her hands to her head rather than to her wounds. “Don’t close your eyes, don’t close your eyes. You’re not there, it’s not real, it’s over. Jesus, it’s over, it’s over and you’re okay. You’re okay.” She spoke slowly, deliberately, coaching herself until the shaking stopped. “It’s a different place and a different time. I’m not back there, I’m here. I’m here and I’m okay.”
I’m okay, I’m okay.
I’m okay, I’m okay.
But she wasn’t, not yet. She rocked back and forth in the gravel. “My name is Jillian Descharme and I’m a licensed veterinarian and I’m okay. I’m thirty-two years old and I’m in Dunvegan, Alberta, and I’m okay. Nothing is threatening me, nothing is wrong, I’m okay.” She drew a long shaky breath and rubbed her runny nose with her sleeve like a child. “I’m okay. Jeez! Jeez goddamn Louise!” She was cold, freezing cold, her clothes soaked with sweat and her skin clammy, but the fear had her by the throat and she couldn’t move. She had to think of something fast, something to help her break away from this terror, break out of this inertia or she’d be here all night. And then it came. The image of the white wolf—the memory, the dream, flowed into her, warmed her like brandy. Jillian clung to that mental picture like a life preserver in rough seas, let the wolf’s unspoken words fill her mind and calm it.
Not alone. Here with you.
Not alone. Here with you.
She rose at last on trembling legs and cursed as her knees made their condition known. The sharp stinging cleared the last of the flashback from her head however, banished the nausea from her stomach. She stood for several moments, hugging herself, rubbing her hands over her upper arms. She sucked in great lungfuls of the cool moist air until she felt steady again, and took a few tentative steps along the dark path—but had to resist the impulse to run. If she ran, she might never stop.
“Think of the white wolf, think of the white wolf.” Calm, she had to be calm. Take big breaths. “Walk like a normal person. It’s okay to walk fast because I’m busy, got things to do, places to go, people to see, but I don’t have to run. I can walk because nothing’s wrong, I’m okay.” She was in control, she would stay in control. As she walked, however, she couldn’t stop her senses from being on hyper-alert. Jillian’s eyes flicked rapidly from side to side, searching the darkness, her ears straining to hear any rustle of leaf or snap of twig. She noticed the tiny brown bats that dipped and whirled in the air above her. She noted the calls of night birds, of loons settling and owls hunting. A mouse hurried in front of her, crossing and recrossing the path. A few moments later, a weasel followed it, in a slinky rolling motion. Jillian was keenly aware of everything—the blood pounding in her ears, the sound of her footsteps in the gravel, the liquid sounds of the nearby river—but not the tree root bulging up through the path.
She yelled in surprise, then in pain as her knees hit the gravel again. She rolled to a sitting position, cursing the sharp stinging and her own clumsiness—hadn’t she
just
successfully negotiated a rugged game trail down a steep hillside for heaven’s sake? She couldn’t see much even with the moon’s light, but a quick examination showed both knees were bleeding, her jeans in shreds. She cursed even more as she picked out a few obvious shards of gravel, but cleaning and bandaging were just going to have to wait until she reached the truck. At least it wasn’t anything worse. Annoying, damn painful and embarrassing, but not a broken ankle or snakebite. Her eyes strayed to the underbrush in spite of herself—there weren’t any poisonous snakes this far north, were there? “Good grief!” Jillian yanked her mind firmly away from
that
train of thought and was pondering whether it was possible to stand without bending her knees when she heard the howl.
just
successfully negotiated a rugged game trail down a steep hillside for heaven’s sake? She couldn’t see much even with the moon’s light, but a quick examination showed both knees were bleeding, her jeans in shreds. She cursed even more as she picked out a few obvious shards of gravel, but cleaning and bandaging were just going to have to wait until she reached the truck. At least it wasn’t anything worse. Annoying, damn painful and embarrassing, but not a broken ankle or snakebite. Her eyes strayed to the underbrush in spite of herself—there weren’t any poisonous snakes this far north, were there? “Good grief!” Jillian yanked her mind firmly away from
that
train of thought and was pondering whether it was possible to stand without bending her knees when she heard the howl.
She sat bolt upright as if an electric current had suddenly passed through her, every hair on end, every sense alert. The call came again, closer. Deep, primal, long and low. Drawn out and out and out, an ancient song, mournful yet somehow sweet. When it fell silent, Jillian felt as if time itself had stopped. And she found herself straining to hear the song again, fascinated, even as her brain told her to run and instinct told her to freeze.
The moon was higher now. The pale light filtered down through the trees and laid a dappled carpet of silver on the stony path. There was no wind, no breeze. Jillian held her breath, listening, watching, but all was still. Her heart was pounding hard with both excitement and fear. Normally she would have loved to get a glimpse of a wolf in the wild, but the idea was a lot less attractive when she was alone in the dark. There were few recorded incidents of wolves attacking or killing humans, but all the data in the world wasn’t very reassuring when she was sitting there bleeding. Immediately she wished she hadn’t thought of that. It was just a little blood, but she struggled to get the image of a wounded fish in a shark tank out of her head.
A movement at the edge of the path beyond seized her attention. A pale shape emerged from the shadows, seemed to coalesce in the moonlight and grow larger until it was a vivid white creature of impossible size. Jillian’s heart stuck in her throat as the great wolf slowly turned its massive head and stared directly at her.
Oh, Jesus.
She had studied wolves more than any other wildlife, but only from books and captive specimens. Wolves don’t attack humans, she reminded herself. Wolves don’t attack humans—but there had been cases in Alaska. She gritted her teeth and sat perfectly still, afraid to breathe as the wolf began to slowly move in her direction. The creature approached within ten feet, then abruptly sat on its haunches and stared at her.
She had studied wolves more than any other wildlife, but only from books and captive specimens. Wolves don’t attack humans, she reminded herself. Wolves don’t attack humans—but there had been cases in Alaska. She gritted her teeth and sat perfectly still, afraid to breathe as the wolf began to slowly move in her direction. The creature approached within ten feet, then abruptly sat on its haunches and stared at her.
It was enormous. She swallowed hard, realizing if the wolf attacked there would be nothing she could do. Nothing. She wouldn’t even manage a scream before it was on her. Not one bit of her martial arts training would help, especially when she was sitting on the ground. Nevertheless she scanned the ground with her peripheral vision for anything she might use as a weapon. Her fingers inched toward a rock, closed around it as the wolf rose, took a slow step toward her, into a pool of moonlight. Instantly its snowy fur gleamed and its eyes were . . . its eyes were . . .
Blue.
Jillian felt as if the air had been knocked from her body. The rock rolled out of her palm. Trembling, shaking, she reached a tentative hand toward the animal. “You. It’s you,” she choked out. “Oh, my God, it’s you, isn’t it? You’re real.”
The wolf closed the gap between them and licked her outstretched fingers.
Omigod, omigod.
She couldn’t move at first, both enthralled and terrified—until the animal nudged its head under her hand like a dog asking to be petted. Jillian moved her fingers lightly across the broad skull, scratching hesitantly at first. Then fear fell away, and she worked both hands behind the sensitive ears, into the glossy ruff. The wolf stood panting mildly, the immense jaws slack and the great pink tongue lolling out in apparent pleasure. Jillian had no illusions about the animal’s power—it might behave like a big dog but those jaws could easily crack the leg bones of a moose, those teeth could tear out the throat of a bull elk in full flight. And as surely as she knew those facts, she knew the wolf would not hurt her. It wasn’t sensible, it wasn’t logical, but the certainty was core-deep. Instinct? Intuition? Insanity? She didn’t know and didn’t care. The wolf held steady as Jillian wrapped her arms around its great neck and buried her face in its thick white fur. “I thought I dreamed you. You came to me. You came when no one would come, but they all told me I dreamed you because no one saw you but me. And I looked and looked for you, but I couldn’t find you.”
Omigod, omigod.
She couldn’t move at first, both enthralled and terrified—until the animal nudged its head under her hand like a dog asking to be petted. Jillian moved her fingers lightly across the broad skull, scratching hesitantly at first. Then fear fell away, and she worked both hands behind the sensitive ears, into the glossy ruff. The wolf stood panting mildly, the immense jaws slack and the great pink tongue lolling out in apparent pleasure. Jillian had no illusions about the animal’s power—it might behave like a big dog but those jaws could easily crack the leg bones of a moose, those teeth could tear out the throat of a bull elk in full flight. And as surely as she knew those facts, she knew the wolf would not hurt her. It wasn’t sensible, it wasn’t logical, but the certainty was core-deep. Instinct? Intuition? Insanity? She didn’t know and didn’t care. The wolf held steady as Jillian wrapped her arms around its great neck and buried her face in its thick white fur. “I thought I dreamed you. You came to me. You came when no one would come, but they all told me I dreamed you because no one saw you but me. And I looked and looked for you, but I couldn’t find you.”
Here now. Found you.
The voice in her mind was real. The fur beneath her hands and face was real. The heat radiating from the wolf’s body was real. Her voice hitched as joy overwhelmed her. “You’re in my dreams all the time. I’m so glad that you’re here, that you exist.”
And that I am not crazy.
Although her rational brain told her there was certainly something crazy about being in the forest at night, hugging a giant wolf. But she couldn’t think about that right now; she had this moment in time and she had things to say. “I owe you a lot; you don’t know how much you’ve done. You saved my life all those years ago, but you saved my sanity too. When things were hard and horrible, and I didn’t want to face them, I thought of you and it helped me get through. I got through the hospital and the counseling and the therapy and came out on the other side, because of you.” She wiped her cheek on the soft fur, but couldn’t stop the tears. “I thought I was done then, I really did. But after a while I felt like it wasn’t enough to be alive, that I hadn’t really survived until I started living my life again. And you helped me do that too. I thought about what to do with my life and it was so plain to me—I wanted to work with animals, work with wolves. Because of you, I found that dream inside me. You did that for me, and I can’t tell you how thankful I am, how grateful I am that you were there for me. Even now, just handling ordinary life, I feel like I’m never really alone.”
And that I am not crazy.
Although her rational brain told her there was certainly something crazy about being in the forest at night, hugging a giant wolf. But she couldn’t think about that right now; she had this moment in time and she had things to say. “I owe you a lot; you don’t know how much you’ve done. You saved my life all those years ago, but you saved my sanity too. When things were hard and horrible, and I didn’t want to face them, I thought of you and it helped me get through. I got through the hospital and the counseling and the therapy and came out on the other side, because of you.” She wiped her cheek on the soft fur, but couldn’t stop the tears. “I thought I was done then, I really did. But after a while I felt like it wasn’t enough to be alive, that I hadn’t really survived until I started living my life again. And you helped me do that too. I thought about what to do with my life and it was so plain to me—I wanted to work with animals, work with wolves. Because of you, I found that dream inside me. You did that for me, and I can’t tell you how thankful I am, how grateful I am that you were there for me. Even now, just handling ordinary life, I feel like I’m never really alone.”
Not alone. Here with you.
The wolf nuzzled and licked at her hair, then lay down beside her. Gradually the tears subsided, and Jillian tumbled into an exhausted sleep with her arms still around the wolf’s neck.
The wolf nuzzled and licked at her hair, then lay down beside her. Gradually the tears subsided, and Jillian tumbled into an exhausted sleep with her arms still around the wolf’s neck.
Other books
Microsoft Word - MeantForEachOther.doc by Allison
Contact by Susan Grant
Taken From Him (Kindle Single) by Joseph McElroy
The Heart of the Phoenix by Brian Knight
Mad About You by Kate Perry
Buster's Diaries: The True Story of a Dog and His Man by Roy Hattersley
Diary of an Unsmug Married by Polly James
Marked by Passion by Kate Perry
Behind Her Smile by Luck, Olivia
The Animal Hour by Andrew Klavan