The Wolf in the Mansion [A Siren Adult Fable]

by Gracie C. McKeever

  How did he know Lincoln had amnesia? Or was he just guessing?

  Cyril ran his hand over the smooth, lacquered top of the conference table before raising the same hand to examine his immaculately manicured nails. “You want something to take back to Lincoln?"

  Oh Goddess, was he reading her mind or just incredibly intuitive?

  This was getting more dangerous by the minute.

  If he could read her mind, what else could he do with her, to her? What was to stop him from establishing contact with her on the astral plane? What was to stop him from attacking her?

  Just as Deja thought it, Cyril shifted, face elongating as his chest expanded and turned his designer shirt and suit jacket to shreds around him.

  The pants were next as Cyril growled and leaped up on the table on all fours, grey fur sprouting all over his naked body.

  "You can take this back to my brother, Deja,” he grinned at her, face more lupine than human, and snarled, “Dahlia's death was no accident. And next time, I won't miss."

  Deja watched, transfixed and panting, as he crawled towards the end of the desk where she sat, reassuring herself he couldn't see her.

  He growled again and Deja stumbled to her feet with a yelp and backed up.

  She didn't stop but turned and passed through the wall at a jog.

  Deja chanced a look over a shoulder, caught Cyril creeping towards her as if he was confident she couldn't escape him.

  She broke into a run, the bright lights and hazy scenery of the astral plane becoming even more indistinct and blurry as she tried to find her way back to her physical body, back to Lincoln.

  She wondered if he could feel her. Did he know she was lost and in trouble? And even if he did, could he help her?

  Cyril was on her tail, snapping and snarling as he pursued her.

  There was no way she could keep up her pace. Even on the astral plane where the impossible was possible, she had lost her sense of direction and was quickly losing her breath, gasping as she sped forward, into the light.

  "Here, Deja! Come to me."

  There was a figure several yards ahead of her, quickly materializing as Deja neared.

  Deja didn't recognize the voice or the form, but instinctively followed, drawn to the positive energy of the outstretched arms.

  "Follow me, Deja. I can take you to safety."

  Deja reached the figure with barely a second to spare.

  Strong arms swept her into a warm embrace and pulled her up out of harm's way as Cyril sprang forward on his hind legs, teeth bared and claws out.

  He landed in a heap below her, immediately righting himself, but too late to locate Deja and her savior flying invisible several yards above him.

  Safely away from Cyril's grasp, Deja now wondered who her savior was.

  "I will take you back to Link."

  "Who are you?"

  "Does it matter?"

  A total stranger had rescued her from the jaws of certain spiritual death and now was asking if it mattered whether or not Deja knew who she was. Yes, it mattered!

  "I am Dahlia."

  "Lincoln's wife."

  "I am your spirit guide."

  Deja was speechless and before she could find her voice, their trip was over, Dahlia putting them down in finally familiar territory.

  She released Deja to stand on her own and pointed ahead of them. "Link is that way."

  "Will you ... can you come with me?” Before the words were completely out of her mouth, Deja knew what Dahlia's reply would be, felt silly for asking.

  Dahlia smiled. "I cannot. But you may tell Link that you saw me and that ... I am well."

  Deja wondered if Dahlia knew Cyril was behind her death and he was now trying to kill her husband.

  "Get back to him, Deja, and warn him."

  She didn't have a chance to question before she was pulled forward, into the light, back to the cabin and the mortal plane.

  Deja practically slammed into her destination, the landing taking her breath away.

  For a long moment she thought she had died and gone to the afterlife for a witch, The Summerland, before she opened her eyes and saw Lincoln's face hovering above her.

  "Deja! Are you all right?"

  She gasped. “Water."

  Lincoln rushed to the kitchen and was back in a minute with a glass of ice water and a cool wet cloth he placed over her forehead as she leaned back against the foot of the mattress.

  Deja let him minister to her, thankfully gulping down the water.

  "What happened out there?"

  She shook her head, unable yet to put into words what she had seen and heard.

  "You were only gone a couple of minutes. Did you see Cyril?"

  Deja nodded, still processing Cyril's confession and her meeting with Dahlia McCabe.

  How could she tell Lincoln his brother was responsible for Dahlia's death?

  "You're soaked and shaking,” Lincoln murmured, cupping her face and leaning close. “What frightened you, Deja?"

  "Cyril ... he—"

  "What did he do?"

  "He turned into a wolf and chased me."

  Lincoln instantly sprang to his feet, pacing the floor as he raked a hand through his hair. He turned back to Deja as she pulled herself up onto the bed.

  "I told you it was too dangerous. I shouldn't have let you go."

  "It was my decision."

  "And did you find out anything that made it worth risking your life?"

  "He's still trying to go through with the merger. He was meeting with a couple of associates before he felt me in the room and—"

  "Christ...” Lincoln hissed through his teeth and in an instant was sitting beside her, drawing her into his arms. “What did he do to you?"

  "Nothing. I got away. I ... Dahlia helped me."

  Lincoln pulled away to stare at her. “Don't toy with me, Deja."

  "I'm not! I saw her, at least her spirit. She guided me out of the astral plane. She helped me get back to my body."

  "Did she say anything?"

  "She wanted you to know she was okay.” Deja watched him swallow, saw his Adam's apple crazily bob. How was she going to tell him the rest?

  "You really saw her?"

  "Her spirit, yes. And..."

  "What else?"

  "Cyril told me her death wasn't an accident and that next time he wouldn't miss.” Deja winced, waiting for the explosion.

  When it came it wasn't quite what she expected.

  He pulled her back into his arms, holding her snug. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his tone fierce and low before he pulled away to stare at her. “But I'm not going to let him get away with killing her either.” Lincoln sprang to his feet and Deja caught his hand, jerking him back

  "No, don't go! That's what he wants.” She squeezed his hand, holding him tight. “If you run off with some half-cocked plan for revenge, then he wins."

  "He's already won! He's taken away the only woman I've ever...” He gaped, shocked and horrified by the sudden memory of the day Dahlia died. The brakes had failed on his car according to the authorities. He was supposed to be driving his car that day, but Dahlia had borrowed it. Cyril had tried to kill him then and killed Dahlia instead!

  Lincoln fell to his knees before Deja, threw his arms around her waist and buried his face against her belly.

  Deja ran her hands through his hair, holding him to her. “I know it's horrible what he's done to you ... what he's taken away from you. But we can stop him."

  He pulled back to peer up at her, searching her face for one breathless moment. “I didn't mean that."

  "I know."

  "She's not the only one I've ever loved."

  "You're not just saying that to get into my skirt again, are you?"

  He chuckled, sliding his hands under the garment in question and up her thighs until he reached the apex, circling the moist, warm core of her with his thumbs. “I'd say anything to get into your skirt, don't you kn
ow that by now?"

  "I know."

  "But that's not the only reason I said it. I said it because it's true and I love you, Deja."

  "I love you too, Link."

  "I like hearing you say that.” He grinned.

  And she liked saying it, never knew how easy it would be to say it to anyone after Shawn's father, never knew that she'd ever want to say it.

  Lincoln reached beneath her skirt and caught the waistband of her panties, slowly sliding them down her legs.

  When he got them to her ankles, Deja obligingly stepped out of each leg and watched as Lincoln raised her panties to his nose and deeply inhaled the crotch before tossing them aside.

  Watching him take such pleasure in her scent made her gush even more. She felt the wetness trickle down the insides of her legs and squirmed in her seat as Lincoln next jerked her skirt down her legs and tossed it aside.

  Slowly he stood and stalked her as she crawled across the bed on her elbows and heels, spreading her legs once she reached the brass headboard.

  Lincoln knelt between her legs, taking her wrists and re-looping his belt around them so fast it made her head spin.

  "What—"

  He silenced her with a kiss, burying her mouth beneath his and languidly dipping in his tongue as he slid the other end of the belt around the headboard and cinched it.

  Lincoln pulled back once he was done, gaze raking over her, setting her entire body on fire when he finally smiled, as if taking pleasure in his handiwork.

  He cupped her face with both hands and touched his forehead to hers. “You don't know how hot it made me to see you bound. You don't know how much I wanted to be inside you when you were kneeling on the floor preparing for your trip."

  "Are you hot now?"

  "I'm never anything else around you.” He kissed her again, reaching for the front of her blouse and tugging it down the middle until the buttons went flying.

  Deja gasped into his mouth, Lincoln swallowing down her token protests before kissing his way from her mouth to her breasts.

  He wasted no time attacking her nipples, biting, licking and sucking each erect nub in turn until Deja was uncontrollably writhing and moaning beneath him.

  "Take off your clothes, Link. Take off your clothes and touch me."

  He instantly accommodated, stripping out of his shirt, jeans and boxers before tossing them aside and coming back to her.

  Deja couldn't take her eyes off of him when he crawled back between her legs, naked and hard, and nudging her slit with the head of his penis. She licked her lips, wanting to taste him.

  He moved up her body to straddle her head as if reading her mind and for once Deja was glad he could.

  She flicked out her tongue, scooping the pearl of pre-cum from the slit of his cock and savoring his earthy flavor and scent. “More, Link. I want more of you."

  He grasped the base of his shaft, smoothly thrusting his hips and feeding her his cock inch by torturous inch.

  Deja eagerly took him in, sucking him deep and moaning around the hard, wide length of him while Lincoln sped his thrusts.

  "Yes, baby, yes. Take me. Take all of me."

  She felt the weight of him, heavy and throbbing in her mouth. Her pussy contracted and moistened so, at his approaching climax, Deja wondered who would actually come first.

  It didn't matter when, seconds later, she gushed onto the bedcovers and Lincoln almost simultaneously exploded into her mouth on a long groan, salty and sweet and oh so satisfying.

  Lincoln pulled out of her mouth, gasping as he lay down beside her and gently pushed stray hair away from her face and behind her ears.

  "You're not through are you?"

  He shook his head. “Give me a minute."

  "I'm glad that's all you need.” She grinned. “I'm so hungry for you, Link."

  "I'm starving for you.” He reached for the top drawer of the bedside table and pulled out the box of condoms Deja had bought earlier.

  "You were busy while I was gone."

  "I was curious about what else you might have been hiding besides the newspaper and figured I'd just finish unpacking for you."

  Had he seen the candles? If he had, he didn't mention them and Deja decided not to bring them up until later. There was plenty of time left to put them to use, she thought.

  Lincoln removed a foil pack from the box and expertly ripped it open with his teeth.

  Deja caught herself licking her lips again as she watched him roll the latex down over his hard shaft. She clenched and unclenched her hands, fingers itching to touch him, arms aching to hold him. She needed to touch him, know he was real and healthy and whole. “Untie me."

  He straddled her hips, grinning as he gripped the headboard above her head, the expression in his eyes totally belying that on his lips, totally intense and ravenous.

  "Please, Lincoln. I—"

  "I want you to touch me as much as you want to touch me.” He reached for the belt, unlatched it from the headboard and her wrists and discarded it before he kissed her breathless.

  Deja held him tight, nails scoring his back while Lincoln growled and teased her slit with his cock.

  She bucked her hips beneath him, reaching and searching for that large, hard part of him that would complete her, needing him to fill her. “Lincoln, please!” Her legs went around him of their own volition, bringing him closer right before he penetrated her in one long, easy stroke.

  Deja closed her eyes and moaned when he slid home, her pussy tightening around his throbbing cock as she ground her pelvis against him and silently urged him to move inside her.

  Lincoln slowly circled his hips, alternately thrusting and grinding against Deja as she matched him move for move. He went from bracing his weight on his palms to enfolding her in his arms, pulling her snug against him as Deja imprisoned him between her thighs.

  She nuzzled his neck, nibbling his skin at the rapid pulse-point, enjoying his spicy sweet aroma and unintelligibly muttering her appreciation against his throat.

  Lincoln sped his movements, stroking deep before pulling almost all the way out of her and making Deja whimper with need.

  He responded with one final plunge, his cock pulsating and seeming to grow inside her.

  Deja closed her eyes, pussy spasming and sucking him in right before she toppled into an abyss of sheer ecstasy that had her hearing explosions so loud she barely heard Lincoln when he instantly followed behind her, releasing a hoarse shout that vibrated through every cell of her body.

  Catching his breath, Lincoln held Deja close and fiercely whispered in her ear, “I'm not going to let him take you away from me too."

  Deja had her own plans to ensure their safety.

  Chapter 7

  After they went at each other in the shower, Deja retrieved the candles from the kitchen and placed one atop each nightstand on either side of the bed before carefully lighting them.

  Lincoln leaned up on one elbow watching her. “For protection?"

  She arched a brow. “More memories?"

  "Something my mother taught me about the meaning of certain colors when I was a kid. Among other things, blue is for prophetic dreams and protection during sleep."

  "Your mother was a witch."

  He nodded. “I believe so."

  "I bet Dahlia was too and that's why I saw her when I projected."

  "Maybe she recognized a kindred spirit?"

  "I don't think I would have made it out had she not helped me.” Deja sat down beside him and let him pull her into a crushing embrace.

  "When I think of how close I came to losing you—"

  "But you didn't. And I'm going to make sure you don't.” Deja pulled back to look at him. “Your father was the shape shifter."

  Lincoln nodded again. “I think Cyril inherited his gifts from both of them. It makes me wonder whether—"

  "We can beat him, Lincoln. We just need to work together and pool our strengths."

  "No more astral travel,” he stated.


  "I wasn't suggesting that.” Though she couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed her mind.

  She could have visited Cyril in his sleep, tried to manipulate him, strike fear in him the way she had done with Jeff, but it went against everything she believed in, especially the Wiccan Rede she lived by. And it harm none, do what you will. Eight little words, but they summed up her moral dilemma in a nutshell, summed up every lesson she tried to instill in Shawn without telling him about his heritage.

  Often she wondered whether or not her son had inherited her gifts. She hadn't seen any manifestations to support this and short of coming out and asking him, she didn't know for sure.

  If she were closer to her mother she might have asked her for advice, but after Deja turned up pregnant with Shawn and her mother blamed her for being stupid enough to fall for a shirker like Jeff, Deja and her mother didn't have much to say to each other.

  Lincoln lightly squeezed her. “I'm sorry about your mother and Shawn's father."

  "There you go dipping into my head again."

  He grinned, but pinned her with a deadly serious glare. “You're not visiting Cyril again."

  "I don't need to.” Because she knew Cyril would come to them.

  And this time she would be ready for him.

  * * * *

  Lincoln opened his eyes, immediately struck by his unfamiliar surroundings.

  "We're in your dream."

  He turned to see Deja standing beside him, smiling like she had a secret, and so enticing his heart and cock ached for her. “How?"

  "I linked with you."

  He vaguely remembered her binding his right wrist to her left as he'd fallen asleep to the melodious strains of her chanting. He wondered if she'd put a sleep spell on him.

  She shook her head. “You can wake up whenever you want, Lincoln."

  Looking at her curvaceous figure, ripe for the picking, he wasn't so sure he ever wanted to leave this dreamscape, until he realized what she had done and suddenly grimaced. “This is the astral plane isn't it?"

  "Don't be angry with me. I had to do this, make sure we're together when he comes."

  "Cyril?"

  "He knows where you are and he means to finish you off. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen, not without a fight."