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—
“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—
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
Wicked Misery
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.
The train doors opened at the Shadowtown station, and I launched myself out of the car, desperate and
