The Mountain's Shadow (36 page)

I had never found out what happened between him and Lonna the morning after we left them, and I honestly didn’t want to know. Lonna and I still saw each other occasionally. My grandfather had left me the recipe for the aconite lozenges as well as my brother’s and my letters in the boathouse, and it’s how we managed our symptoms. We would occasionally hunt together; the trust just wasn’t there anymore. I felt like a hypocrite for being so hard on her about Peter when I’d still lusted after Robert. She would never admit it, but she resented me for having brought her into a situation where she was compromised on every level. That it was partially her fault for being overconfident was something she’d never admit.

So I was alone, the rich heiress in a small town in the Ozarks in Arkansas. I pondered it on the way back to my new house filled with furnishings that still felt like they belonged to other people. I reminded myself it could be worse, and maybe I needed to be alone for a while. But when I turned the curve to the cul-de-sac, I saw someone sitting on my front porch steps. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the wavy dark hair, the intense black eyes, and the muscular body in blue jeans and a black leather jacket.

“Leo?”

He came and opened the car door for me. “Good afternoon, Doctor Fisher.”

“Good afternoon, Doctor Bowman. What are you doing here?”

“I had to disappear for a while—there was something I needed to investigate on my own. But I’m back. They said you live here now.”

“I can’t go back to the Manor, not yet.” I brushed a tear from my eye. “It’s too soon. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

He looked away and bit his lip.

I held my hand out to him, and he took it. My hand looked so small in his, but his felt warm in spite of him having waited out in the cold for me.

“We both loved him,” I said.

“And we’ll both miss him. I can’t believe I didn’t realize he’d been taken to that place. And Ron…” His voice broke.

“Ron betrayed you for love.”

“Right.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I hope it was worth it. Did you hear they’re thinking of starting a CLS specialty at UAMS?”

“Then he’s ended up in the right place.”

Leo followed me into the kitchen, where I put on a pot of coffee.

“No butler?”

“Nope. Gabriel left after the fire. It wasn’t really my style anyway.”

A little of the tension seeped out of Leo. “Why live here? Why not rebuild?”

“I’m not ready yet. I have to feel like it’s the right time.”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “There’s a reason for that. Let’s go up there this evening, at twilight.”

“Go up to where? The manor ruins?”

“Yes.”

Tears stung my eyes, and the kitchen blurred. “Leo, I can’t. I haven’t been up there since they found his body.”

In a moment, his arms were around me, and I cried into his shoulder. It felt so good just to let it out, to let someone else hold me up for a change, especially when I felt one of his tears plop on the top of my head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you. Have been from the beginning, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. You remember how I told Galbraith he didn’t need to bring Gabriel in?”

I raised an eyebrow. “No, I didn’t hear that part of the conversation, remember?”

“You heard the end of it. If I couldn’t keep Gabriel away from your grandfather’s estate, I hoped to at least keep him away from mine.”

“I see.” I put my cheek against the warm leather of his jacket.

“After I met you, and you were so feisty with Kyra, I couldn’t help but fall for you. And then you never let my wild moods intimidate you. It was like you saw beyond all the CLS stuff. You could say I was your greatest admirer. Still am.”

The words stung, and I remembered Gabriel had said something similar, but then the recollection of a certain dinner that had been paid for came to mind.

“Would that perhaps be a secret admirer?” I asked.

He smiled at me and then tucked my head under his chin, where it fit perfectly. “Not so secret anymore. Shall I show you how much I admire you?”

I tilted my head back to look at him, and he pressed his lips to mine, his mouth questioning like I might be the one to draw back. Just in case he had any doubt, I threaded my fingers through his thick curls—
there's no escaping this time
! With nothing standing between us anymore, this kiss was molten and carried with it the excitement of being the most powerful animal running through the forest. I shivered, and he drew me closer.

“You’re not going to push me away this time, are you?”

“No words,” he teased and made sure I couldn’t ask any more questions or doubt his intentions.
 

“Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered the next time we came up for air.

He grabbed my wrist, the one he had hurt, and tugged me gently to the master bedroom. I’d forgotten for a moment he knew the house. Then he proceeded to show me how he could be both a wild animal and a tender lover, switching between the two as I needed. By the end, as we both came, I knew without a doubt who I wanted my second pack mate to be.

“Come to the Manor with me tonight,” he whispered as we lay collapsed together.

I drew away, but he pulled me back to him. “Why?”

“Charles made me promise I’d bring you when I returned. He knew you’d need time to heal and forgive, but there’s something he wanted me to show you.”

I sighed. “I could never say no to him.”

So there I was, at twilight, sharing a thermos of hot chocolate with Leo and trying not to look at the jagged edges of what was left of my childhood sanctuary and my adult legacy. The trees around the edge of the lawn were bare of leaves, and their branches made intricate lacework against the feathery clouds in the sky. The sun set behind the ruins, and the sky turned pink, streaked with orange and purple. The sight took my breath away, and then I saw what Leo dragged me up there for.

A large gray wolf loped across the lawn from the woods and disappeared into the ruins of the house. I tugged on Leo’s sleeve to let him know I wanted to follow it, but he held his finger up—
wait.
I waited and watched, and as dusk fell, the wolf emerged again, this time with something in its mouth. It trotted up to us and dropped a key into the grass. It was the old front door key, and miraculously, it hadn’t been melted into oblivion. If anything, it was only a little sooty.

Then the wolf disappeared, and a chill breeze froze the tears to my face. I picked up the key. “What is this?”

“When a person dies, it sometimes takes a while for the part of the spirit that animated the body to disappear. He had a reason to wait.”

I put the key in my pocket as we walked to the car. “What does it mean?”

But I knew. My grandfather’s spirit, or maybe it was the spirit of one of our ancestors, wouldn’t be at rest until I lived on our land again, in a house on top of the mountain, the guardian of Piney Mountain and now Crystal Pines. Honey had told me there was a tie between the Landover blood and the land. Maybe she’d been right.

Leo held the car door open for me—I loved this new civilized manner—and even though we didn’t say anything, I knew he agreed with the spirit wolf.

“I’ll build another Wolfsbane Manor,” I told him, “but on one condition.”

He kept his eyes forward as he started the car. “What’s that?”

“That you’ll be there with me. I know sometimes I’m going to want to kill you, especially when your animal brain is taking over, but I need you here.”

He grinned, his eyes full of mischief and a little something else.

“What?” I asked, my heart stopping for a moment.

“It took you long enough to realize. And besides…” The grin was definitely a leer. “As you found out this afternoon, the animal part of my brain can be fun.”

I blushed and wanted to smack him, but I knew he was right. Everything happens in its own time, and sometimes you just need a trial by fire—or two—to transform you into the right person. And once we got the place built again, we were going to throw some fabulous parties and make it into the house it had always been meant to be.

I rolled down the window, opened my hand to the breeze, and let go of the past.

About the Author

Cecilia Dominic wrote her first story when she was two years old and has always had a much more interesting life inside her head than outside of it. She became a clinical psychologist because she’s fascinated by people and their stories, but she couldn’t stop writing fiction. The first draft of her dissertation, while not fiction, was still criticized by her major professor for being written in too entertaining a style. She made it through graduate school and got her PhD, started her own practice, and by day, she helps people cure their insomnia without using medication. By night, she blogs about wine and writes fiction she hopes will keep her readers turning the pages all night. Yes, she recognizes the conflict of interest between her two careers, so she writes and blogs under a pen name.
 
She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with one husband and two cats, which, she’s been told, is a good number of each.

You can find her at:

Web page:
 
www.ceciliadominic.com
 

Wine blog:
 
www.randomoenophile.com
 

Facebook:
 
www.facebook.com/CeciliaDominicAuthor
 

Twitter:
@RandomOenophile

It’s all quasi-legal fun until somebody gets framed for murder.

Wicked Misery

© 2013 Tracey Martin

Miss Misery, Book 1

Jessica Moore thrives on misery. Literally. Thanks to a goblin’s curse, she gets a magical high from humanity’s suffering. A shameful talent like that could bury a girl in guilt, so to atone, she uses her dark power to hunt murderers, rapists and other scumbags—until one of them frames her for his crimes.

In desperation, Jessica seeks refuge with the one person she trusts to not turn her in—a satyr named Lucen. Like every member of his race, Lucen uses his lusty magic to control Boston’s human population, and Jessica isn’t immune to his power. But the murder victims belonged to a rival race, and when they discover Lucen is harboring Jessica, dodging the cops becomes the least of her problems.

With only five days to find the real killer, Jessica faces a danger far more serious than the brewing magical war. The danger of succumbing to Lucen’s molten seduction.

Warning: Contains a heroine with a lust for misery, creepy murders, and creepier goblins, satyrs so hot you’d sell your soul for one, and scaly sewer rats masquerading as dragons. Who said magic was all sparkles and tiaras?

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Wicked Misery:

The train doors opened at the Shadowtown station, and I launched myself out of the car, desperate and stupid. On the ride over it had occurred to me that I was not exactly equipped for this. I had no charms and no weapons. All I had was the cash in my wallet, my phone and the Tallyho’s uniform in my duffel bag. Yeah, I’d thought this through real well.

What I wouldn’t have given for my bike, my knives and my anklet. Hell, I’d have been happy with my leather pants. Since I’d bought them when I was in a bind, they’d become comfort clothes. And damn it, I needed comfort.

Barring that, I’d take a relatively safe place to think.

That was why I’d chosen Shadowtown. It was the one neighborhood in Boston that the Gryphons wouldn’t just sweep through looking for me. They’d come eventually if they believed I was here, but it would be a while before they gathered a small army. Whatever vendetta the sylphs might have against me aside, no pred liked a Gryphon invasion.

So I hoped.

I clattered down the steps to the street and checked the time on my cell. I’d gotten off shift at three. It was now almost four. The Lair wouldn’t open for another hour, but Lucen should be up. Yesterday, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t show my face to him for at least a week. So much for pride.

He picked up on the fourth ring as my panic began anew. “After ten years without a phone call, this is the second time in two days you’ve called me, little siren. Have I finally started growing on you?”

“Yeah, like a tumor. Um…” I collected my thoughts. All around me, a quiet, sleepy Shadowtown was awakening. Thunder rumbled overhead and the wind picked up, scattering leaves near my feet. A couple humans, nonaddicts, were hurrying my way, high-school-age guys by the look. No doubt they were testing their burgeoning manliness by exploring Shadowtown during a time when most of its inhabitants would be tucked in bed. I waited for them to pass.

They gave me furtive glances, probably assuming I was an addict. I rolled my eyes and adjusted the phone against my head. A shadow flickered from the corner of my eye, and I saw the back of a sylph’s head as he or she entered a house. There was a flash of silvery white hair then the door shut. I had to get off the street.