The Enchanted: Council of Seven Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  Is he my mate? The thought was unbidden and foreign, yet it seemed to fit everything she’d ever learned about mates. The moments she’d spent in his simple presence had stolen her breath away like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Even as she stood in Vern’s arms, she could not stop thinking about his impossibly green eyes meeting hers and the explosion that seemed to have occurred between them.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” Vern said, stepping back and smiling warmly at her. His dark brown eyes were lit with admiration. “You’re so brave, Elle. You truly are an inspiration to all of us. Your words played in my head after you left. You’re right. Our mantra is to do better than the average person, to hold people accountable for the damage they are causing to our world. We are all lucky to have someone like you to remind us when we lose sight of what we’re trying to accomplish here.”

  Elle flashed him a weak smile, suddenly feeling exhausted. His words fell flat in her ears now, as if she could hear a hollowness that hadn’t been there before.

  “I’m heading home,” she finally managed to say. “I could use a nap.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Joey quickly piped up from the back of the room. Elle nodded gratefully, and the two retreated to his car parked in the rear of the non-descript office space.

  For once, she was grateful for the silence Joey’s presence provided. He had little to contribute under most circumstances, and that day was hardly different. Elle was constantly teasing him about being a wallflower, but even after two years, he had yet to open up to anyone at World’s Worth about his past and himself. Still, it didn’t stop Elle from trying to warm him up and break down his shell, though most of their conversations centered around the organization.

  The foundation had been started by Vern Mills in 2001 and had steadily grown in popularity nationwide. Vern had initially begun with protesting against the devastation of national forests, but soon the group was sitting before bulldozers in Costa Rica at the mouth of the rain forest, delaying mass cutting of ancient trees. Vern had been passionate about animals, often starting petitions to put businesses which tested on animals out of business. Before anyone knew what was happening, storefronts carrying the brands were being vandalized. It seemed that any small effort set forth by Vern quickly escalated by his devout members, who were determined to protect the planet they so dearly loved.

  As his members diversified, so did the causes. World’s Worth covered any atrocity. from animal cruelty to apartment buildings refusing recycling programs, and each effort was treated as importantly as the next.

  “There is no such thing as small change! Every change is a big change when it comes to the environment!” Vern would chant, and the crowd would cheer insanely.

  As a result of that protest, World’s Worth had adopted the mantra, “Every change is a big change.” While it had all started in Vern’s basement in a rural town outside of Boston, the foundation suddenly found its roots had branched out everywhere, from New York to Los Angeles, each chapter running things their own way but only with Vern’s explicit approval.

  There was a general way to do business, a common standard. They kept a very low profile, never advertising their affiliation nor claiming any act of righteousness. Even their offices were unlabeled, never expensively furnished or filled with excessive numbers of people. The idea was not to call attention by having too many people coming or going.

  When the numbers grew in an area, a new, quiet office was set up to accommodate them. It was why they had been so successful for so many years; they had managed to stay off the radar of law enforcement by exercising extreme caution.

  Joey cleared his throat, interrupting Elle’s reverie as she gazed out the window.

  “So, um… Vern has an idea,” he told her quietly. “That’s why I wanted to drive you home. I wanted to see how you feel about this.”

  Elle blinked and glanced at Joey out of the corner of her eye. She had been watching the scenery without seeing anything. Her mind had been far too heavy with other matters.

  “Vern always has an idea,” she replied, a half smile on her face. “You have to be more specific.”

  “He wants to go bigger,” Joey told her slowly. Elle raised an auburn eyebrow questioningly.

  “Bigger?” Joey stared out the window, apparently choosing his words.

  “Yes. He wants to take on Geolaud.”

  “You mean the multi-billion-dollar corporation?”

  “The one and only,” Joey replied.

  My. That is bigger. Elle found herself nodding in approval.

  “That’s great! We have good numbers,” she said, the wheels of her mind changing gears toward her environmental concerns again. “We could probably do some real damage What does he have in mind? Please don’t say protests! I can’t do protests anymore. My legs can’t handle the hours of standing.”

  She had a feeling that Joey wouldn’t have roused the topic if Vern was only looking at protesting. One doesn’t get Geoluad’s attention by holding up signs.

  Joey cleared his throat nervously.

  “No, not protests.” He paused as he pulled up to her solar-paneled cottage. Elle looked at him blankly, wanting to get out of the car but not until Joey had said what was on his mind. Of course he would choose today to speak.

  “Well? What then?” she pressed impatiently. She opened the door, one foot already on the road. She was eager to be alone with her thoughts.

  Joey cleared his throat again. Elle was beginning to get annoyed.

  “Joey, spit it out, please. I’m getting a headache.”

  “Bombs. He wants to drop bombs on them.”

  5

  Dane didn’t carry a watch, but it wasn’t necessary, even if he’d had the means to buy one. He was intrinsically aware of the time, and he had been from the moment he’d woken from that deep, dark slumber of which he had no recollection.

  He thought back to the morning he’d found himself, sprawled on the gravesite of Dane Hawthorne, on his back, naked and staring up at the dawning sun. Confusion and fear had consumed him, but only for a second as he somehow reclaimed his bearings and broke into the caretaker’s shed to locate a pair of work overalls.

  For the first two days, he had simply wandered through the city, trying to understand who he was and how he’d come to be there. Inherently, he knew that he was Enchanted. What did that mean to someone without roots, though? He had not shifted into anything, nor did he fully understand of what he was capable, but from somewhere deep and mystic, he was sure that there was a purpose to why he’d been tossed onto the gravesite.

  Unless I came from the grave?

  Of course that was impossible. Once Enchanted beings perished, they couldn’t come back… could they? The problem was, Dane had many questions and not nearly enough answers, and the more he sauntered through the city, the farther away he felt to knowing his reasons for being there. At least, until he’d set eyes upon the woman in the police station.

  From his hiding spot behind a squad car in the full parking lot, Dane had crouched and watched the beautiful woman hurry out of the station before disappearing down an alleyway.

  He understood that she had been there for his benefit somehow, though he could not understand why this stranger had come to his rescue. Mortals only behaved in ways which would contribute to self-gratification. This woman had tried to get him out of trouble with the authority figures. He had never seen her before. He was sure he would have remembered such a beauty, even if he recalled nothing else. She didn’t give off the wretched stink of her peers, and her face was not painted over.

  It was then that he realized that she was not mortal at all but also Enchanted. He still couldn’t place her, as hard as he tried, even though her genus was tickling the recesses of his mind. There was something as elusive about her as he imagined he was to everyone else.

  Is that why I’m so drawn to her? Is that why I feel like we’re connected somehow? Or is it more than that?

  He shifted his thought
s back toward the trees in front of him, making his way back to the camp he’d set up for himself in the woods on the outskirts of the city. He rushed through the low bowing tree branches scratching at his tender skin, swatting at them with surprising force, snapping them on impact. The camp was not much further, and he just wanted to lay back and close his eyes if only for a few minutes.

  The hidden cave appeared as he broke yet another dead branch. Dane walked gracefully inside, securing a boulder in the entranceway. A feeling of utter exhaustion overwhelmed him, but before he could flop against the cold, hidden walls, he realized he needed to drink.

  I must rest, but I must hydrate primarily. Dane had found himself unable to eat or drink much of anything since his awakening. It seemed to him that there were pollutants and additives in all forms of nourishment, and he wondered how he’d ever lived so long. Gauging by his appearance, he seemed to be a man in his late twenties. Surely, he must have sustained himself on something.

  He’d found that even hunting wild animals was risky, as they had been exposed to the waste of mortals during scavenging expeditions. Dane was too energy depleted and malnourished to travel further in search of better-quality food or water, because he wasn’t sure it existed.

  You don’t have a choice. You must consume whatever water you are able to locate.

  Reluctantly, Dane made his way out of the cave and into the woods. He knew of a stream nearby—it was one of the reasons he’d stayed in the area.

  While he walked, he could hear the gentle trickling of the water, and he followed his well-developed ears toward the sound. The swollen stream babbled over fallen trees and rocks impartially, still aggravated from a recent rain. Bracing himself from the acrid taste, he leaned over and pushed a mouthful of the cool liquid into his mouth. It was bitter, and he could taste the chemical compounds, but he filled his canteen, knowing that he needed to hydrate.

  As soon as he finished filling the container, he turned to leave.

  His keen sixth sense told him he was not alone, and he expertly scanned the horizon for signs of life. Although his probing green eyes could not physically see anything, he was certain it was not a woodland creature; there was a mortal in his presence. The giveaway stench did not churn his stomach, nor did a grating voice fill his ears, but he was still confident in his hypothesis.

  As he waited for the being to materialize, Dane entertained the thought of killing it.

  Elle’s mind wouldn’t stop whirling. She was a mess of muddled thoughts, overwhelmed with anxiety.

  Bombs? That is so much more serious than anything we’ve ever done anywhere, in any chapter!

  She reasoned that Geoluad was bigger than anything they had ever taken on, so it should call for more dramatic measures. Still, Elle was not convinced that violence on that scale was necessary. The recent tear gas mission she carried out was as far as she ever thought she would go. None of the people were permanently affected by the tear gas—and she was certain nobody had died. Bombs could really do some damage.

  After Joey had taken her home to her off-grid house, Elle had waited for him to pull away before heading into the ravine behind her tiny property. The thought of spending another minute inside of four walls, especially four walls in a four-hundred-square-foot box, was enough to make Elle nauseous.

  The shipping container turned cottage had been Vern’s idea. He had pointed out that it was extremely difficult to stand for a cause when your feet were leaving carbon footprints in their wake. Like the others in World’s Worth, Elle had seized the idea with fervor until the reality of actually living within its claustrophobic walls had materialized.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t seem to stay outside enough. Sometimes she wondered if that was the whole point in the first place—to make her get out and explore her world to its fullest. Either way, Elle was glad she’d had the foresight to set up her cabin near a small gully on the outskirts of town. It allowed her for all the privacy she desired, even when she wasn’t inside.

  Most days, a slow, leisurely walk through the shade would be cathartic, but the day was becoming stranger and stranger. Normally the sight of the sunlight tickling shy tree limbs playfully would erase any feelings of discontent. Now, the ambience was not making a dent in her uncharacteristically foul mood. In fact, the further into the woods she ventured, the more uneasy she became. After a while, she considered turning back toward the security of her small cottage.

  Soon, Elle was staring into the overexerted stream, trying to make sense of what she was feeling. The walk was doing nothing to alleviate her mass of emotions, and a bubbling unease threatened to burst from her throat.

  Suddenly, like a puppet on a marionette string, her head jerked around and looked behind her. Staring back at her were two glowing moss-green orbs, partially hidden behind a poison ivy bush.

  For a moment, Elle thought she was looking at a bobcat, but as her own aquamarine irises took in the scene with more clarity, she instantly recognized the onyx crown of fine silk atop a perfectly constructed face. It was him!

  Neither moved, as if they could each sense the current running between them in electromagnetic pulses. Elle felt the throbbing through her body like waves of heat and cold simultaneously. The stranger moved forward.

  “Wait!” she called, finding her vocal cords. “Don’t move!”

  He disregarded her words and continued to stride in her direction, unsmiling.

  Elle knew she should be fearful, but she was overcome by a deep calm, as if she were under sedation. He abruptly stopped inches from her, and while his actual eyes did not move from hers, she felt like he was looking her up and down. A sexual thrill coursed through her body.

  “I… I know you,” Elle stuttered when he did not offer any words. She felt tongue tied, nervous, and she tried to focus on his odd one-piece outfit and long, slender fingers, but her face always ended up returning to his steadfast gaze. He continued to say nothing, amplifying Elle’s awkwardness. “You were the one arrested at the market,” she told him slowly, a blush of shame rising to her cheeks, staining her porcelain face.

  “Yes.”

  “What happened? Did they let you go?”

  “No.” He stared at her with some curiosity now, like her question confused him. “You were also at the building of the authority figures. You are aware they did not allow me to leave.”

  She was taken aback by his odd tone and blunt words. Shocked, Elle stepped back, instinctively beginning to shake her head in denial.

  Oh, shit! He saw me there! Does he know why I went? What will he do if he finds out I’m the reason he got arrested?

  “No I wasn’t—” She started to lie, but he cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

  “Yes.” The word was short and standalone. There was a finality in that one syllable which kept Elle from further arguing her innocence. Even more blood rushed to her face, and for the first time, she hung her head in guilt.

  “Yes,” she agreed, almost whispering. “I was there.”

  “Why?”

  Elle shrugged and gathered her story together before answering. Earlier that day, she had been willing to turn herself in for this man, but now, staring at him face to face, the thought of him looking at her with disappointment was too much for her to bear.

  He doesn’t need to know the whole truth, Elle decided. It won’t benefit anyone to tell him.

  “I saw the real culprit at the market,” she answered evasively. “I knew it wasn’t you. It wasn’t even a man. A bunch of witnesses said so, but do you think the cops will listen? Anyway, I saw that they had arrested you, and I knew I had to come and make it right. I came as soon as I saw. I really didn’t want you spending another minute in the station, but that cop didn’t believe me, and…”

  Elle abruptly stopped speaking, realizing she was babbling. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to study his face, to place what type of immortal he might be. There were qualities about him that told her he could be several different kinds, but the more
she stared at him, the more the question overwhelmed her.

  You’re overselling it. Stop talking and stop staring at him. She couldn’t stop, though, her eyes magnetically drawn to him like they belonged there.

  The being’s black brow furrowed, and his hand went to his arm.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked lightly, noticing that a look of discomfort had crossed his face. “Are you okay?”

  He began to scratch lightly, but in seconds, red splotches appeared on his skin, and the motion became frantic, his nails causing the fair skin to bleed.

  “I seem to be experiencing some difficulties,” he told Elle uncomprehendingly, a look of bewilderment crossing over his face. Her lovely eyes widened with recognition, and she gestured for him to follow her.

  “That’s why I yelled at you to stop,” she laughed. “You walked right through a poison ivy bush. I have ointment in my house. Come with me.” She turned back toward her house, expecting him to follow, but when she paused, she realized he remained in the same spot. “I’m not going to bite you,” she said quietly. “My place is just up here.”

  She offered him an encouraging smile, and he nodded curtly, as if he’d just talked some sense into himself. Slowly, he ambled forward to join her, and she waited for him to meet her side before walking back up the foliaged path in the direction she’d come.

  “There are a lot of poisonous plants out here,” she warned. “You’re clearly not much of a woodsman.” She was teasing him, but he didn’t smile.

  “I was… I think,” he murmured. Elle eyed him through her peripheral vision.

  “You think?” she asked softly. “You’re not sure?”

  He shrugged and lowered his gaze, but Elle continued to watch him as they walked.

  I wonder what your story is, she thought. She had a feeling she was about to find out everything.

  6

  As promised, they were at her cottage in a relatively short time, and hesitantly, Dane wandered inside, feeling both apprehensive and excited. There was something about this woman, something he didn’t quite understand that he wanted to know better, despite not knowing the first thing about himself. Idly, he wondered if she was the key to unlocking the mystery of what had happened to him, but he dismissed the thought. The last thing he wanted to do was lay out his bizarre story to this woman at risk of scaring her off.