What a pity.
Fayne took a deep breath, then tensed. He could smell her arousal. Hot and fluid, the scent of warm woman surrounded him. His body responded and his jeans grew uncomfortably tight as a familiar tension invaded below his waist.
She shoved at his chest, forcing him to release her. He almost smiled as she slid back into the water, crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at him, but he had a feeling that might be a big mistake. She wouldn't take being laughed at lightly. She was truly a delightful mass of contradictions. She fascinated him.
"You don't live here," she accused. "You followed me."
Fayne shook his head. "I've been staying here off and on since last December. Obviously, Jennifer didn't tell you."
"N-n-no." She looked so confused and dismayed that he battled the urge to take her into his arms. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, then stifled a groan as his pants tightened across his groin. He withdrew his hands and forced his arms to his sides.
"She must've forgotten," he offered.
"Could you please turn around?" She blurted.
She looked so miserable, standing there trying to cover up every inch of her delectable pink skin, he decided to take pity on her. Turning, he retrieved her sweater from under the pile of clothes on the chair behind him. Without looking back, he offered the garment over his shoulder, grinning when she snatched it out of his hand. He tried to ignore the rustle of clothing as she pulled the sweater on, all the while muttering under her breath.
"I cannot believe this... How could Jennifer... I'm so annoyed... He must be lying."
Fayne walked over to the deck railing as he heard her splashing her way out of the hot tub. He leaned against the rail, taking in the stunning view of the valley at his feet. Several mountain peaks over, he noticed clouds gathering. Dark and menacing, a storm was coming, and it was going to be a big one.
"I'm not lying. Call Jennifer and ask her," he said mildly.
He was surprised when Erihn appeared beside him. Her hair covered most of her face, but her dark eyes were throwing darts at him through the damp strands. She had a briefcase clutched to her chest. Angling her chin up, she stared at him.
"I think I shall," she announced. She turned on one heel and he watched her stalk toward the doors leading to the living room. Her cardigan barely covered her shapely backside and he whistled in appreciation.
She stiffened, her steps faltered. Squaring her shoulders, she marched into the house, slamming the door behind her.
Fayne chuckled as he turned back to stare at the approaching storm. Whatever her physical faults, she had a great pair of legs and an ass to kill for. He walked back to the hot tub, retrieved his borrowed wineglass and offered a silent salute to the coming storm.
"What do you mean, he's staying here?" Erihn fought to keep the rising panic out of her voice.
"Darling, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I simply forgot. With the last-minute packing and everything else, it slipped my mind." Jennifer said. "Besides, Fayne is harmless for the most part..."
"For the most part," Erihn hissed. "How could you do this to me?" She gripped the phone as she tiptoed to the window.
The master bedroom overlooked the deck and the abandoned hot tub. Through the blinds, she saw Fayne stretched out on a lounge chair. He'd absconded with her snack tray and was making steady inroads into the contents. Cad! Not only had he invaded her sanctuary, but he'd made off with her food also. Without warning, he sat up and pulled off his shirt.
Her mouth went dry. Golden skin stretched taut over rippling muscles, obscured only by a fine dusting of hair on his chest. A narrow line of dark hair vanished into the top of his jeans, as if it were a roadmap to his manhood, neatly dissected his washboard stomach.
Long, muscular legs were encased in worn denim and he'd kicked off his shoes. He was the picture of a relaxed male, far more handsome than her daydreams had allowed. He reached for another morsel when Erihn caught sight of his right arm.
"He has a tattoo," she squeaked.
Fayne looked up, those catlike eyes boring into hers.
Startled, she jerked away from the window and almost dropped the phone.
"He does?" Jennifer was saying. "What is it? Better yet, where is it?"
"It looks like a ring of thorns on his arm," Erihn whispered.
"How boring. I would have expected a more interesting place from Fayne," Jennifer commented. "I wonder if he has any more."
"This isn't funny," Erihn hissed. She tiptoed over to her suitcase, lying open on the massive bed.
"Why are you whispering?" Jennifer asked.
"I don't want him to hear me." She began pawing through the jumble of tangled clothing until she located her black sweatpants.
"Where is he?" Jennifer laughed. "Right outside the door?"
"On the deck," Erihn propped the phone against her shoulder and struggled into the worn cotton pants.
"He can't hear you from the deck."
"Sure could have fooled me." Erihn grunted as she pulled the pants over her damp skin.
"What are you doing?" Jennifer demanded.
"Getting dressed. I'm leaving," she snapped.
"Erihn, let's not be hasty," Jennifer replied. "I've known Fayne for many years..."
"How many?"
"Hundreds."
Erihn scowled, "Very funny, Jennifer. I really don't think this is a laughing matter. This is your house and you have the right to invite anyone you like. I just wish you'd told me he'd be here. I could've made other arrangements." She grabbed a pink sweatshirt with a print of Mickey Mouse on the front.
"Erihn, please listen to me. I'm very serious when I say you're perfectly safe with Fayne. He'd never hurt you, or any woman for that matter," Jennifer said. "I'm begging you not to leave. He's staying in the basement guestroom. Other than stumbling over one another in the kitchen, you don't even have to see him."
Erihn paused; her throat crowded with fear and her palms grew slick. She couldn't face it again. Nothing would ever induce her to sleep in a house with any man on the loose, let alone one as potent as Fayne.
Nothing.
"I'm sorry, Jennifer," her voice cracked.
"Oh, Er..."
The line went dead.
She frowned and tapped on the power button, but it was still lit. Setting the phone in the cradle, she glanced out the window. Her glorious sunshine was gone, obliterated by black clouds the likes of which she'd never seen. Flashes of lightning lit the darkening skies as the wind picked up.
"No." Erihn stumbled outside to the tiny deck that extended from the bedroom sliding door. The thunderclouds were beginning their slow descent into the valley toward them.
"Isn't this great?"
She looked down to see Fayne standing at the railing; his beautiful ginger-colored hair whipped by the cool winds the storm generated. He was leaning forward, over the railing as if he urging the storm to move faster. His handsome face was alight with excitement.
"Great isn't the word I'd use to describe it," Erihn said, her lips numb as despair washed over her.
She was trapped. Until this storm blew over, there was no way down the mountain.
Edward drew an icy finger over the flowing script on the page. He knew the words by heart, yet he let his gaze travel over the crux of the letter again.
"Erihn Spencer is in possession of a copy of Elsabeth's diary, stolen from me over two centuries ago. I don't care how you do it, but I expect you to return to me what is rightfully mine."
So, Erihn was in possession of Mikhail's wife's diary, how very interesting. He knew Elsabeth had come into intimate knowledge of the preternaturals before her untimely death and she'd recorded everything in her journal. Uncovered years later, copies had been made of the decaying original in the hopes of securing and using the information at some point in time. Instead, they'd come up missing, stolen from Mikhail's ancestral home. Now, hundreds of years later, one had finally turned up.
The i
mmediate ramifications were devastating to Mikhail and his ilk. The diary could very easily contain information to bring down all of them in their attempt to overthrow the current Council of Elders, the ruling body of the preternatural underworld. His gaze moved down the page.
"Leave no witnesses..."
That was certainly easy enough. Edward smiled. First, though, there was the little matter of Fayne.
Edward picked up a photograph that lay near the letter. It was a photo of one of Edward's most precious possessions.
Max.
Edward's eyes narrowed as he scanned the photo of Fayne chasing after Max as they played with a football. Max was his, and he belonged with him, not that were-creature. Soon, he'd reclaim his property.
Edward dropped the photo on the letter, then reached forward, plucking a rose from an ornate arrangement on the table. He brushed the blood red bloom over his lips, enjoying the feel of the silken petals over his chilled skin. The scent of roses teased his nostrils.
He held the blossom an inch from his lips and gently blew. Icy breath passed his lips and curled around the rose. Within seconds, it was frozen solid. Edward admired his handiwork before crushing the blossom in his hands. Jagged shards of broken petals rained down on the photograph until Fayne's image was obliterated.
His lips moved but no sound was issued.
So be it.
* * *
About the Author
J.C. Wilder lives in Westerville, Ohio where she's owned by a Japanese Akita named Severena and a really obnoxious Jack Russell Terrier named Copper Penny. She spends the majority of her time dusting her 6,000 books and staring at her blank computer screen in complete terror.
After six years working for CompuServe Inc., she's working as a Business Analyst for the State of Ohio. When not writing, she devotes much of her time to studying the medicinal uses of herbs and essential oils and howling at the moon.
You can write to her at [email protected] or visit her webpage at http://www.jcwilder.com.
* * *
Publisher info:
Stories that stimulate your laughter, Provoke your tears, Evoke your secret fears,
Stories that make you think...The stuff that dreams are made of...LTDBooks
www.ltdbooks.com
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
One With The Hunger
Shameless
About the Author
Publisher info:
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 5 Page 19