Simon & Rose (8 page)

He nodded. “A cup of coffee sounds good.”

Smiling, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm as they made their way to her kitchen with Rizzo on their heels.

As they entered the large stainless steel, commercial looking space, she removed her hand and set about making coffee. After she pushed the brew button, she turned and grinned sheepishly. Her hand swept the immaculate room. “I can’t cook as well as Leslie, but I can make a wonderful pot of coffee.”

Mark grinned at her. “I find that hard to believe. I would bet good money, there is very little you couldn’t do once you put your mind to it.”

Before she could reply, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her.

“But I’m an accommodating man. Coffee is all I need, darlin’.” Then he leaned down and kissed her senseless until the final sputtering of the coffee pot caught their attention.

“Coffee’s ready,” she breathed as she stepped from his arms and pulled cups from a cupboard. “I’m not sure how you take yours. There’s cream in the refrigerator and the sugar is to your right in the red ceramic sugar bowl.”

“I like mine sweet and black. Do you use cream? I can get it for you.”

“No, thank you. I like mine black.”

She filled a cup for him and waited as he added sugar. Then she led the way to the patio.

“This is really something special,” Mark said as he admired the view.

She had to agree. The birds always serenaded her, but today they were outdoing themselves, and the blooms smelled extra fragrant.

Sharon laughed softly. “I call it my secret garden. My mother spent a small fortune on these patio stones and the landscaping. Only the best designers and gardeners would do. And don’t get me started on the custom fountain.” She was pleased that he paid attention and listened to what she had to say. With the mention of each facet of the garden he looked to see what she referred to.

“After they moved away, I took over some of the work myself. I find it very therapeutic. Oh, I still employ a gardener. A garden this size is too much for one person. And I have a service to mow and tend the trees, but I like to feel the earth under my hands. I’m out here every morning walking among the herbs and flowers, harvesting and pulling the occasional weed.”

Mark shook his head and grinned at her. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I don’t know how amazing I am. Every woman needs her hobbies. I simply choose to garden rather than knit tea cozies or some such silliness.”

Once they were seated and Rizzo was in her regular spot at Mark’s feet, she took a sip and set her cup aside. “Would you like me to explain why you smell banana bread or would you rather enjoy your coffee first?”

“Please continue. I’d like to hear what you have to say,” he answered then took a sip.

“All right. First of all, you must understand for every shifter, there is only one true mate. A shifter knows they have found that special person when three signs present themselves. The Goddess who created the shifters set those signs in place so shifters could identify their mates when they meet them. Without the signs, a shifter would never know if they found their mate and they would miss the opportunity to live their lives with their perfect partner.”

Mark listened closely, his face displaying his rapt fascination.

“What are the signs?” he asked.

“Both of the people involved will smell a scent designed just for them. Which is why I smell like your grandmother’s banana bread. You as my other half, experience the same signs I do. Banana bread is obviously something you enjoy and have a pleasurable response to. As for me, I relish nothing more than walking through my spice garden and brushing my fingers along the basil and thyme to release their essence into the air. So, you smell just like a morning stroll through my garden.

“There will also be an immediate intense attraction between the people in question, and the ability to speak telepathically with each other.”

Sharon took a breath and a sip of coffee. She used the break to watch Mark closely for signs of overload.

Mark set his empty cup on the table and nodded to himself. “So, that’s why you asked me all those questions earlier. You wanted me to piece the signs together.”

She nodded. “Essentially. By you acknowledging the experience, my explanation is easier for you to accept.”

“You are a wise and crafty woman,” he teased and gave her a wink. “It worked.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” she teased back. “Would you like a refill before we continue?”

“Yes, please.”

She went inside to pour them each a fresh cup, and check the refrigerator for breakfast. Sure enough, her chef left a platter of pastries for her. She handed the sweets to Mark before grabbing two napkins, and small plates. Moments later, they were sipping hot coffee, and moaning in delight.

Sharon dabbed her mouth with her napkin and swallowed. “Do you see why I don’t cook and instead employ my chef?”

Mark swallowed the last bite of his sweet roll so he could respond. “These are the best things I’ve ever eaten. But I’m sure your cooking would make my taste buds dance as well.”

“You’re sweet to say that. But I guarantee that while I can indeed cook, I can’t hold a candle to Leslie.”

Mark grinned and winked at her. “I think I’ll have to test that theory and have you make me dinner.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Absolutely. How about tonight?”

“I think I could arrange that as long as you keep your expectations low.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Anyone who smells like my grandmother’s banana bread has to be a fine cook.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. “I don’t think the scent works that way.”

Mark admired her as he sipped his coffee. “You know what?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “What?”

“I would have had a visceral reaction to seeing you even without the whole shifter thing.”

“Thank you. I think you’re amazingly sexy as well.” She reached across her bistro table and took his hand. “Are you ready to hear more?”

“Sure, hit me with it. You mentioned something about the entity that created shifters. What’s that about?”

“Good question. Long ago the Wolf-Goddess Luperica blessed a village of humans with wolf souls. Over time as those first shifters found their mates and had children, the numbers have grown. I’m not sure what the actual count is today, but I would hazard to guess there are close to a million shifters worldwide. Most new shifters are either created when a human is claimed by an existing shifter or born to shifter couples. Although on rare occasions, the Goddess will bless a human with a wolf soul as she did that first village. Simon’s nephew John was recently granted a wolf soul. He was the first human to be blessed in over one hundred fifty years.”

Marks eyes widened and his brows rose to nearly his hairline. “Hold on. Are you telling me I could become a shifter?”

“Yes. During the claiming ritual, you’ll be given a wolf soul, shifter magic, and all the gifts that entails. The second soul will give you the ability to change into a wolf just like I do.”

His brows fell and a deep crease developed between his eyes. “I don’t see how that would work. I would be a wolf with three legs. Being a maimed human is bad enough, I’m not sure I want to be a three legged gimpy wolf, too.”

“Mark, if I may ask, how old were you when you lost your leg?”

“The attack was a few months ago, and I’m thirty eight, why?”

Sharon’s smile widened and her eyes took on a bright sheen. “Excellent.”

“Why would that be excellent?” His confusion and annoyance was heard in his voice.

“To explain why, I first need to tell you about shifters and aging.”

“Aging?”

“Shifters are long lived and age differently than humans. Where a human lives about eighty years on average, a shifter lives up to fourteen hundred years.”

Mark choked on his coffee.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I think so.” He pushed his cup away for good measure. “Okay, so you were saying y’all live a crazy long time.” Dang, his drawl was back. It always grew thick when he was stressed.

“A shifter ages just like a human until they reach the age of about twenty-five. Then the aging stops until the shifter reaches nine hundred. At that point, the aging begins again, but at a very slow rate.”

A bit of concern showed in his eyes. “Does that make you over nine hundred years old?”

Sharon grinned and chuckled. “No. Shifters use magic to appear to age for the human population. It allows us to remain undetected. Would you like to see what I actually look like?”

He sat forward. “I love the way you look right now. You’re a beautiful woman. Although I admit, I’m curious to see the younger version of you.”

“Thank you, but this isn’t my normal appearance.” Instantly, a younger Sharon smiled at him.

“Damn. I didn’t think I could get any luckier. You’re breathtaking.”

“I take it you like the real me.”

“Like doesn’t come close. I’m floored.”

Sharon blushed a pretty shade of pink. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.”

He’d been listening closely, but for the life of him, he wasn’t grasping how shifter aging affected him. “So, what does all that have to do with my leg?”

“You’re over twenty-five. When a human is claimed and that person is older than their mid twenties, he or she goes through a regression to the state of health and physical appearance they enjoyed when they were twenty-five. You, will regress to a physical state where you haven’t lost your leg.”

“Are you telling me I’ll get my leg back!”

“Yes. That’s precisely what I’m telling you. Although, we’ll need to speak with Emma Le Beau, Simon’s mother, before we do the claiming. I’m concerned about the pain you will experience as your leg is regenerated. I’m not sure a human has ever been claimed who has experienced such an injury. I would like to see if there’s a painkiller we can give you to help you through the ordeal.”

“A painkiller would be welcome, but I’ll go through it regardless of the level of pain if I can get my leg back.”

“Before you rush to a decision, I have more to explain.”

“Okay, what else do I need to know?”

She took a sip from her cup and tipped her head. “Let’s see, what haven’t I covered? Oh, yes. I was about to explain mates. I want to be perfectly clear, a mate is not a girlfriend or a wife, although many couples celebrate their mating with a human wedding as well. A mate is an individual designed and created to be the one true partner for a shifter. That destined mate could come from the shifter community, but more often than not, a true mate is a human. Mates are perfectly matched to complete each other. Two people who are idyllic life partners and lovers to such a degree, it’s almost impossible to describe. It may be hard to believe, but finding and accepting a mate is guaranteed happiness.

“But more than that, mates each carry one half of a soul and when the ritual is completed that soul binds back together. The shared soul and mated bond creates a solid relationship like you’ve never imagined. You’re my mate, Mark. You hold the other half of my soul and I yours.”

“It sounds like this mate thing would make dating and falling in love a heck of a lot easier than anything I’ve experienced that’s for sure.”

“It is easier.
This isn’t anything like dating.
Mates are destined and drawn to each other. They skip right over the dating part. And as such, there’s an immediate attraction between the two people, which you already know. Being destined and sharing two halves of a soul creates a situation where the couple wants and needs to be together. And I have to tell you, it’s absolutely normal for mates to fall in love at first site and complete the ritual within days of meeting. That level of intensity and passionate need can be frightening for a human. Instant love and commitment isn’t normal for you.”

“Hot damn! So you’re telling me, I get the girl of my dreams without trying? And if I do whatever the ritual entails, I get a woman who is mind blowingly perfect for me, and my leg back?”

Sharon made the mistake of taking a sip of coffee as he reacted to what she’d told him. Coffee spewed across the space and soaked his chest. “Oh my Goddess, I’m so sorry!” she cried as she tried to dry his chest with her napkin.

Catching her hands, he chuckled at her embarrassment and hopeless attempt to clean his T-shirt. “Darlin’, I don’t think that’s going to do a bit of good. Don’t worry your pretty head. No harm, no foul.”

Mark’s white shirt was no match for her black coffee. Her insistence on cleaning the mess she’d made amused him. There was no telling this woman no, so he sat back and enjoyed the attention. Several napkins later, Sharon admitted defeat. “I have a couple of my father’s T-shirts upstairs. I’ll be but a minute.”

“You don’t have to…”

But she was already out of sight. Mark frowned at the sitting room they passed through to get to the patio. Where had she gone? She should have been right there. He looked harder. There wasn’t a single inch of that room he couldn’t see.
What the hell?

He was still pondering her vanishing act, when a blur rushed toward him and stopped next to the table.

Instant chaos reigned.

Rizzo shot to her feet, barking.

Mark’s arms pin wheeled.

And the table crashed to the ground when he hooked his good leg around a brace, doing his best not to land on his back. At least he wasn’t on the ground sprawled out, looking like a fool in front of Sharon.

“Holy hell. How did you do that?”

Her hand went to her heart, and her eyes grew wide. “Goodness. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She nibbled her lower lip and shuffled foot to foot. “I guess this is a good time to explain shifter gifts. As I demonstrated, extreme speed is one of them,” she said sheepishly.

“Are you kidding me?” he sputtered, righting the table. He reached for his coffee cup, but it was shattered.

“No. And to tell you the truth, I was actually going a little slow. I can move so fast you wouldn’t be able to see me at all.”

Mark stared at her for a long minute. He rubbed the back of his neck massaging away the tension. This was shaping up to be a very long day. “Darlin’, do you have any whiskey?”

“I think so. Why?”

“I’m going to need to add a splash to my coffee for this conversation.”

Sharon walked to the parlor, purposely moving at normal human speed. She waited until she was out of view to giggle. If she wasn’t careful, she would traumatize him beyond repair. She grabbed the cut crystal decanter of whiskey she kept on her bar top, and tapped her lower lip. Mark’s education in all things shifter could take a while. She better bring more coffee.

In the kitchen, she poured the remaining coffee into a carafe and grabbed new cups. She considered the items before her. There was no way to carry the whiskey, coffee, cups and sugar bowl all at once. She snapped her fingers. Leslie kept serving trays someplace. In the sixth cupboard, she found the stash of trays. Bingo! Very pleased with herself, she arranged everything carefully. The last thing she needed was the decanter or carafe tipping off the tray.

She set the whiskey before him and waited for him to add his so called splash. Then she topped off his cup with hot coffee before taking her seat. He took a test sip and then a healthy gulp. Wow, he wasn’t kidding when he said he needed some whiskey.

“Better?”

“Much.” He set his cup on the table and took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready. Hit me with all the shocking things you can do.”

“If you’re sure. I can wait until you’ve had a cup or two.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure. Go ahead and rip that Band-Aid off as you said.”

She eyed him and smiled. He did indeed look ready. “Let me see. There are several powers or gifts that all shifters have. You’ve seen me shift so you know shifters can do that, and once you do the ritual, you’ll be able to shift as well. One you haven’t seen is dressing and undressing with a thought. Using that gift in conjunction with a shift is what allows us to avoid the need to get naked before we shift or end up naked when we shift back. A shifter imagines the clothes either on or off depending on their intention. The one rule is you have to own the clothing you are putting on.”

“Okay, so that’s why you were able to change when you had clothes on. Stefan did that to, but he changed from a wolf to a man. Thank God for small favors. I don’t need to see him naked.”

Sharon bit her lip to hold in her laughter. “Poor baby. I’m sure you would have survived the ordeal.”

“Maybe, but I’d rather not take the chance.” He sipped his hot toddy then asked. “Is that all the gifts?”

“Not quite. A shifter also heals ten times faster than a human. I think that’ll come in handy when you go through the conversion.”

“Hmm. I wish I had that gift when I was injured in the first place.”

“You know about telepathy and sending spoken messages. Hand in hand with that, we can send the sensation of touch and emotions, as well.”

“Seriously?”

Instead of answering she caressed his cheek without moving.

“Holy cow!” He rubbed his cheek grinning. “Was that you?”

“Sure was.” She winked. “Why don’t you try it? Imagine touching me.”

She watched him concentrate and after a bit of effort she felt his thumb sweep across her lower lip. She smiled and reached for his hand. “That was really good. The next time just let it happen. It’ll come easier with practice.”

“If I do this, it sounds like I would have a lot to learn. But so far everything you’ve said sounds pretty cool.”

“Something else you’ll like is heightened senses. You’ll have the hearing, sight, and smell of a wolf. Even in human form your senses will be much better than they are now.”

“Dang. No wonder Simon was so good at his job.”

“Well, yes. He used those gifts, but I’m sure he depended on his personal gift to find the enemy for you.”

“Personal gift?”

“Each shifter is born with one additional gift. The ability manifests during childhood. A mate usually has a gift as well that is enhanced with their conversion. Simon’s able to sense emotions and thus able to locate people based on the strength of emotions they’re emitting. His gift would have been the most useful.” She paused and tilted her head as she considered him. “What’s your gift, Mark?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a gift. There isn’t anything special about me.”

Sharon tilted her head back and barked an unladylike laugh. “Oh, I beg to differ. There’s plenty special about you. That’s beside the point. You may hide your gift from people or ignore it, but you definitely have one. What can you do that no one else can?”

Mark refilled his cup and she noticed this time it was a fifty-fifty mix. She was causing him more aggravation than she felt comfortable with.

“I’m sorry, Mark. You don’t have to talk about it. I won’t push you.”

He scuffed his foot on the patio bricks considering his options. He must have been radiating agitation. Rizzo sat up and shoved her head onto his lap. Unconsciously, he scratched her ears, absorbing her calming influence.

“I don’t know what it’s called. Hell, I don’t know if it even has a name. But if I have a piece of paper and pencil in my hand and let my mind wonder, when I come back to the present there are words on the page. And the really spooky part is, whatever I’ve written always happens within a few days or weeks. I learned to never sit with paper and pencil. I can’t deal with knowing things, but unable to do anything about it.”

Sharon solemnly nodded. “Automatic writing. That’s what it’s called. You get messages unconsciously and you write them out. You have a very special gift, Mark.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want it,” he groused.

“My gift is similar to Cade Le Beau’s, but not as strong. I call it cryptography. I can look at a bunch of numbers or any information really, and a pattern will emerge. That’s how I amassed my wealth. I can see patterns in the stock market and capitalize on it.”

“I would love to have that gift. Want to trade?” he scoffed.

“Let me guess. The messages you’ve received weren’t good news.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“I would bet a lot of money, once you go through the ritual, you’ll have pin point control.”

That got his attention. “What do you mean, control?”

“You should be able to direct the writing by asking a question and getting the answer.”

He held his cup halfway to his mouth “You really think so?”

She reached across the table to clasp his hand. “Yes.”

“Huh, that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“So, the point is, once you do the ritual with me, you’ll have all of these gifts as well.”

“That’s a lot to take in at once. It all sounds great, but it’s a lot to process.”

She looked at him and gave him a sweet smile. “I’m sure it is. Do you have any questions?”

He studied her for a long moment. “I’m trying to wrap my head around turning into a wolf. It didn’t look like it hurt. What does it feel like?”

Sharon pursed her lips, tilted her head. “You know, I’ve never really thought about the way it feels. It happens so fast, you don’t really feel anything.”

He mulled that over in his mind. “How do you do it?”

“It’s easy, and yet takes a bit of practice to be good at. That’s if you want to have clothes on when you’re done. You simply imagine yourself as a wolf and picture it clearly in your mind, and allow it to happen.”

Mark tipped his head and thought about that. “Stefan was white and you’re a dark brown. What color do you think my wolf would be?”

Sharon reached across the tiny table and ran her fingers through his hair. A smile pulled at her lips and he heard the low rumbling sound again. “Based on the color of your hair, I think you’ll be dark in color, a shade of brown or black. With your eyes, you’ll be stunning.”

He studied her for a long moment. “What’s that sound?”

She smiled fully, almost blinding him. Then her eyes dipped to focus very briefly on his mouth. Her glance hit him all the way to his toes, like one of her searing kisses. “That’s my wolf’s happy sound. She likes you. A lot. I do too.”

His smile widened as he considered how very, VERY much he liked her. “I’m not sure about your wolf, I don’t really know her yet, but I definitely like her human.”

“Are you admitting to having feelings for me, Mark?”

“Yes, ma’am. I think I am.”

“You sound a little unsure. Let me ask you this, did you miss me when you went to Simon’s?”

He gave her a wicked, teasing grin. “Maybe.”

“After last night, I don’t have to ask you if I turn you on.”

Mark chuckled and winked. “No, ma’am. My attraction to you was more than evident.”

“All right, before I continue telling you about shifters, I want you to imagine how you would feel if you never saw me again.”

He sat up straight and almost shot from his chair. “What! What do you mean, never see you again?”

Sharon gripped his arm. “Settle down, cher. I’m not going anywhere. I’m making a point.”

“What the hell kind of point requires taking ten years off my life?”

“Before I suggest we visit Emma about a painkiller for the conversion, I wanted you to realize your true feelings for me. We’re not going to complete the ritual until you admit you’re in love with me. I won’t pressure you, or dangle carrots before you to get what I want. Accepting me will change your life too dramatically.”

Mark sat back again, searching her eyes as he sorted through his feelings. Finally he raised his chin and held her gaze. “Do YOU love me?”

Without hesitation she smiled and said. “More than life itself.”

“Good, because I love you so much it hurts. Which is kind of freaking me out. You said something about the intense emotions being a mate thing, right?”

“Yes, I did. Loving your mate isn’t something you could have avoided. It’s very normal to fall head over heels in love and then take the time to get to know your mate later. I know, it’s very backwards compared to what you are used to, but that’s the way shifters work.”

“That’s reassuring, because the way I’m feeling about you after only twenty-four hours is scaring the daylights out of me.”

“It’s my pleasure to take care of my mate. Easing your fears is part of that. Speaking of which, would you like to take a few days to get to know me better, or would you rather talk to Simon’s mother about the conversion?”

He focused on her eyes so he could detect any untruth she may speak, then he leaned forward. “You’re absolutely sure that what we’re feeling for each other isn’t just a bad case of lust? You’re positive you won’t decide you hate me and move on?”

“I assure you, what we’re feeling is the purest love imaginable. A very deep, soul mate love, which will never fade.”

Mark studied her a minute longer, then stood and held out his hand. “In that case, I’m ready to talk to Mrs. Le Beau about a painkiller.”

*****

Emma murmured a blessing and a spell as she ground a mixture of herbs. She added the muddled herbs to essential oils. When finished, she would have an arthritis ointment unmatched by anything available through human pharmaceuticals. She hadn’t made a batch of that particular ointment in years. But as word spread that she rejoined the healing community, more orders for the ointment poured in every day.

Washing her hands at the large soapstone sink Isaac surprised her with on her birthday, she watched Sharon and Mark drive up. A smile twitched her lips. She’d known all along they were mates, not that she’d admit to it.
This is going to be fun.