The Enchanted: Council of Seven Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  Pushing open one of the three doors of the hallway, he found himself staring down at a figure bundled in an array of bedding, her once shiny dark hair a matted, dirty mess. He could not see her face, for it was buried in the depth of the sheets, but one pale hand curled around a comforter as if she was grasping on for dear life. A piercing of sadness waved over Malik, and he saw the obvious signs of a depressed form in the mound.

  Yeah, she can’t live like this. She’s a nurse. She deserves better. We’re going to get you out of here, lady.

  Malik reached forward to gently shake her shoulder when, like a fire alarm, his phone began to ring from his waistband. Jumping backward, he tried to reach and silence it, but it was too late. Gena sat up in the bed, her waxen complexion almost translucent as she stared at him.

  “Don’t be afr—” Before he could finish his sentence, Gena’s face contorted into a hideous mask of supernatural proportions, and Malik knew that whoever Gena was now, she wasn’t the same woman she’d been at the start of this whole mess.

  At four a.m., the front door to the farmhouse opened stealthily, and Arden was there, ready to pounce, but he paused, his heart pounding as he caught sight of the limp figure in his agent’s arms.

  “What the hell happened?” Arden demanded, stalking forward to regard the unconscious figure in Malik’s arms. Malik stared at him, his face clouded in anger.

  “Are you telling me you didn’t know about this?” he hissed. “She’s turned.”

  Arden’s heart leapt into his chest, and he ground his teeth together at the confirmation.

  “I wasn’t sure,” he admitted, staring at Gena’s waxen face. “What is she now?”

  But Malik didn’t have a chance to respond as Shawna stalked into the kitchen, concern darkening her face.

  “What happened?” the housekeeper demanded, hurrying toward them, wariness coloring her cheeks. She looked suspiciously at both men and then the unresponsive woman in her arms.

  “Malik, bring her into the living room,” Arden instructed, taking charge. Shawna wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t one of them, and explaining it would only broach more questions. “Shawna, put some tea on and get Gena a glass of water.”

  Malik immediately strode further into the house, leaving Shawna to gape after him.

  “Why is she unconscious?” she cried. “She looks sick!”

  “There’s a lot going on right now, Shawna, but I assure you, it’s all going to be okay,” Arden told her reassuringly. “She’ll come to soon.” He didn’t give her another chance to speak, his own legs carrying him after Malik and into the sitting area. “What did you do to her?” Arden hissed at Malik, his voice low as he glanced toward the kitchen, ensuring that Shawna wasn’t listening.

  Malik scoffed. “She’s turned!” he snapped again. “She came after me!”

  “Turned into what?” Arden questioned, studying her too-pale face with worry. It was clear Gena was different, but who had turned her, and into what?

  “I want to say she’s a demon, but that can’t be right, can it?” Malik asked, his brow furrowing. “She came at me like one. I had to subdue her.”

  “She attacked you?”

  Malik looked embarrassed. “In all fairness, I did break into her house. I surprised her.”

  “She can’t be a demon,” Arden said, more to himself than to his agent. “No one can be turned into a demon.”

  “Well, she wasn’t always one,” Malik insisted. “I’m sure of it.”

  Arden agreed with him, but he wasn’t afforded the opportunity to contemplate it further. Gena stirred and abruptly opened her hazel eyes to stare at him.

  “Hey,” Arden said softly. “Are you okay?”

  Gena bolted up and gazed at Arden blankly, her face expressionless.

  “What am I doing here?” she finally asked, and Arden exhaled in relief. Whatever Malik had seen in her in the house seemed to pose no threat to him now, but he knew he still needed to tread carefully.

  “Malik brought you here to get you away from the reporters,” he replied simply, wondering how much she knew about her current state.

  Gena blinked and looked at him uncomprehendingly. Slowly, understanding seemed to overcome her. She looked accusingly at Malik.

  “You knocked me out!” she cried indignantly. Malik opened his mouth to respond, but Arden interjected.

  “You were scared when he entered your house,” he offered smoothly. “You went after him. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He went there on my request. Are you hurt now?”

  Gena eyed him accusingly. “Now you give a rat’s ass about me?” she snapped, her nostrils flaring, and in spite of the direness of the situation, Arden felt a familiar sense of arousal watching her. She was magnificent. Whatever she was.

  “I handled your last visit poorly,” Arden agreed. “But it’s not too late to make things right.”

  Gena scoffed and wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head.

  “It’s a little late for that,” she said. “My life has been effectively ruined by you.”

  Arden frowned. “I had nothing to do with any of this,” he reminded her.

  “You didn’t do anything to stop it, either!” she retorted. And then, Arden saw it: the flash of demon fury lighting her greenish-brown irises. Instantly, he looked at Malik, who impulsively stepped back as if he anticipated another attack.

  “I’m not your enemy, Gena,” Arden told her softly. “You’re free to go if you want, but honestly, I brought you here because I was worried about you.”

  The fury faded from her eyes, and Arden felt his body relax.

  “Yeah, right,” she mumbled, though there was a begrudging acceptance in her voice. “The damage is already done.” She lowered her eyes, and Arden again exchanged a worried look with Malik.

  She’s probably right, he thought grimly. I was far too late to protect her.

  As Gena perched on the edge of the sofa, carefully regarding the actor and the agent, she wondered if she had made a mistake.

  They want something from me, she decided. That’s the only reason they brought me here, so they can corner me in their own turf. Well, they may think I’m broken, but I won’t give into what they’re selling.

  Arden sighed, reading her cynical expression.

  “I owe you an apology,” he told her sincerely.

  “For what?” she challenged, unwilling to lower her guard. This was a ploy to disarm her. Her eyes shifted toward Malik. She could read nothing but compassion and worry in both their gazes.

  He’s an actor, and that’s his agent. They know how to get the public to believe anything. Don’t fall for it. Stand your ground.

  “You came here weeks ago asking for my help, and I sent you away. That was wrong of me,” Arden said, his voice husky with shame. Gena blinked, confused.

  “Too little too late,” she retorted, but her tone was not as sharp, despite her resolve to remain strong.

  “In all fairness, Gena, there was nothing Arden could have said that would have made this go away,” Malik piped in. “In fact, I told him not to say anything to the press.”

  “These points are all moot now,” Gena said miserably. “My life is ruined over a bunch of lies. Isn’t there someone we can sue for this? I lost my job, my ex thinks I was cheating on him, your ex is spitting in my face…”

  Arden hung his head. “That’s why I had Malik bring you here,” he said. Gena looked into his warm, green eyes. In spite of herself, she wanted to believe his sincerity, even if there was nothing they could do to change things now.

  “Well, this is all very cordial of you,” she said sarcastically. “But tomorrow, I will still have to answer to the reporters.”

  “Not necessarily,” Arden offered. “Not if you don’t go home.”

  Gena laughed. “That sounds wonderful,” she declared caustically. “I’ll just transfer some money from my Swiss bank account and buy an island in Polynesia. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before!”

/>   Arden smiled tightly, and Malik had the good sense to look embarrassed.

  “What I am suggesting is that you stay here,” he explained. Gena’s mouth dropped open, and she began to laugh.

  “Stay here?” she echoed. “What, like a house pet?”

  Arden’s mouth pursed, and he looked angry. “Like a guest. Until this craziness finally loses steam. In a few weeks, everyone would have forgotten your name.”

  Gena stared at him in disbelief. He is serious! He wants me to move in here!

  “Wh–why would you offer that to me?” she finally sputtered. “You don’t know me. What difference does it make to you if I am being hounded by reporters?”

  Arden returned her wide-eyed stare, and a surge of electricity bolted through her.

  “It makes a difference because you don’t deserve what happened to you,” he replied gruffly. “You could very easily have sent the reporters to me to save your skin, and you didn’t, because… well, I don’t know why you didn’t, but you didn’t. And I would not be able to live with myself if anything else happened. This is enough of this. It ends now. Please consider my offer. I promise, I have only your best interest in mind.”

  He turned his head away from Gena so she would not ask him anything further, but she could sense something else going on beneath the surface, something she didn’t begin to understand.

  Does this have something to do with what happened at the hospital? Her eyes widened at the completely unbidden thought. Why would it? No one knew about that… if it had even happened at all. I need to call the hospital and check on Millie Aldwin, she thought, guilt swelling in her gut like a cyclone. She had been so wrapped up in her own haze, she hadn’t thought to do that.

  “Here you are, Miss Averson,” Shawna said brightly, entering the room with a tray in hand. “How are you feeling?”

  Gena wished everyone would stop asking her that, especially because she had no idea how she was feeling. Everything felt surreal, and again, she wondered if she wasn’t in the middle of some vivid hallucination, brought on by the stress of the past few weeks. She stared at the tray and glanced up at Arden, who continued to look out the window.

  “I’m fine,” Gena said sharply. I think.

  “Why don’t you rest up and think about Arden’s offer,” Malik suggested, but Gena shook her head.

  “I don’t need to think about it,” she said firmly. Both men looked at her warily, and Gena gave them a small but mirthless smile. “I would be a fool not to accept this, wouldn’t I?” she replied. “Yeah, I will stay until your paparazzi friends move on to greener pastures.”

  “Shawna, prepare one of the guest bedrooms for Miss Averson. She will be staying here for a while,” Arden told the housekeeper.

  “Right away, Mr. Morrow.”

  Shawna flashed Gena a bright smile and hurried off to ensure she had remembered fresh towels in the adjoining bathroom. The weak light of dawn was struggling to break through the horizon, and Arden took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

  You need to keep your distance from her, he warned himself, already recognizing the feelings he had been trying to suppress since the moment Gena had furiously entered his life. Whoever she is now, she has no place in your life. It’s not fair to get attached to her when you’re a dying immortal.

  12

  “Cut! Cut! Cut!” Paul was furious. “Damnit! Cut, for the twentieth time!”

  Arden glanced toward the director, squinting against the hot spotlights.

  “Now what?” he snapped. “It’s two o’clock in the morning! I would like to finish this take at some point this year.”

  “You?” Paul choked incredulously. “You would like to finish the take? Then stop screwing it up! The humor in this went out twelve takes ago! This isn’t a blooper reel, Arden. This is time and money which is cutting into the budget of this movie. Can you get your head out of your ass for a minute and focus?”

  Arden stared at the director, his irritated face blurred by the intensity of the lights. “I am not doing a damn thing! You’re cutting in every two—”

  “Stick to the script, Arden!” Paul screamed. “Stop with the damn improv! What you’re saying doesn’t even make any sense!”

  Arden turned to look at his co-stars. The other actors shifted their eyes about the set uncomfortably.

  “Can you believe this guy?” he raged. “Paul, can you even read? I am exactly on point. You need another double espresso.”

  Paul strode forward, the script firmly in hand, and thrust it in Arden’s face.

  “It says, ‘I am here, soldier. Don’t let go.’ You said, ‘I’m here, Steven. I’m on the phone.’ This is a World War II flick, Arden! What goddamn phone do you have in the trenches? And who is Steven? There isn’t even a bit part named Steven!” Paul turned to the cast. “I don’t even think there’s an actor in this room named Steven. Is there a Steven in the house?”

  Arden guffawed and threw up his hands, again looking for support from his cast, but they remained occupied staring at nothing.

  “You need to get an ear candling, Paul,” Arden retorted. This time, Paul tossed his own arms into the air, the script flying to the ground.

  “I am going to write this off as you being overworked, Arden. Let’s call it a night, everyone, since our main man can’t get his brain working this morning. Back at ten a.m. Try to get some sleep, Arden. You’re beginning to piss me off.” Without waiting for Arden’s reply, he stormed out of the studio through the fire door, leaving the actor staring after him, a caustic smirk on his face.

  “Seems like someone needs an enema,” he commented to his co-stars, but no one was in earshot. Stripping off his costume, he glanced at the script which Paul had discarded on the floor. Stepping closer, his brow furrowed in consternation.

  No wonder he’s confused. The script he’s reading from isn’t even in English. What language is that? Aramaic? Arden thought, straining to stare at the bizarre lettering on the page.

  A sharp rap at the door shattered his memory of one of his many arguments on a movie set, and Arden shuffled the papers he was reading into a pile into a folder.

  “Come in,” he called. Shawna poked her head into the study. “Hey,” Arden said. “How’s our guest settling in?” She nodded, indicating that Gena seemed to be doing well.

  “She seems lost in here,” the housekeeper chuckled. “She ends up in the kitchen by the butler stairs thinking she’s entering the foyer.”

  Arden grinned, thinking of the bungalow he had given up in Los Angeles. “She’ll get used to it, right? It’s not nearly the size of the monstrosity in Beverly Hills. What’s up?”

  Shawna hesitated, as if gathering her courage to tell him something.

  “Oh, don’t tell me you’re quitting on me now,” Arden moaned, misreading her expression. “Is she being difficult?”

  “No!” she replied, her brows knitting together. “Of course I’m not quitting, and Miss Averson is actually really nice! I… I just wanted to see how you’re doing with all of this.”

  Arden was taken aback by the sentiment. In the past weeks, he had been called arrogant, selfish, a cheat, and myriad other names he would rather have forgotten. He had been accused of disgusting behavior, yelled at by his agent, and sneered at by the press, but not one person had asked him how he felt. He imagined that Malik had received multiple calls from reporters seeking out his side of the story, and while Arden would never have entertained giving an interview, it would have been a relief to hear that someone cared to hear what he had to say.

  Forcing his sudden bout of self-pity aside, he flashed Shawna a charming smile and nodded easily.

  “I’m good,” he answered. “Now that I know those vultures aren’t attacking the girl, I feel much better.” Shawna bobbed her head again, but a knowing twinkle slipped through her dark eyes.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Hopefully this is the beginning of the end of this, right?” Arden could sense that the question was loaded somehow, but he dec
ided to ignore it.

  She must know more than she lets on around here. But how much more? Is she aware that Malik and I are shifters? Can she sense something’s up with Gena Averson?

  “That’s the plan, Shawna.” She pivoted gracefully toward the door. “Hey, Shawna, if you see Gena, can you have her come in here? I want to discuss a few things with her.”

  “Sure, Mr. Morrow,” the maid responded, closing the heavy wood doors behind her.

  Arden returned his gaze to the thick file of papers on his desk. He picked up another report, scanning it as if he had never seen its contents, even though he had, many times. He silently willed the words to be different, the outcome to be different. They all spelled the same results; inevitable death for him.

  Maybe I will die before this furor does, and Shari Jespers will be left thinking she has blood on her hands. That would be a positive outcome to this, Arden thought morosely, but he knew that was highly unlikely. When this disease took him, it would be sudden and merciless. I’m going to die because of tainted blood from half a millennium ago, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Theo Veriday, leader of the bears, knew nothing about his condition, and Arden had intended to keep it that way until it was too late for the councilman to terminate him.

  I’m going out on my own terms. I won’t let them take a single moment from me. Not that Arden would have blamed Theo for doing what he had to do. This disease was an anomaly, one that would taint his pack’s bloodline. But I’m not ready to die, not yet.

  Still, he had known that the mistakes he was making were bound to cause attention, and that he had to bow out of the public eye before any suspicions were cast upon him. He didn’t want anyone else, shifter or not, to know anything about it. Especially not when he suddenly felt like he had something to live for in Gena Averson.

  Another knock caused him to hastily slip the paperwork into the top drawer before admitting Gena inside.

  “You wanted to see me?” she asked from the doorway.