by J. M. Davies
Ella stared around the room filled with antiques on the shelves and books on another before she let her gaze wander toward the outside and the garden. “Marcus, I’ve been hunted all my life, so it doesn’t seem too farfetched to believe I’m on their radar. As for why, I don’t know. At this moment, I honestly don’t know if I killed Aidan or not. I’m being as honest as I can with you. My life is complicated. I tried to explain, maybe not clearly, but it isn’t easy. Anyway, there are parts of that night I don’t remember at all. All I know is that once again, I was deceived and Aidan knew who I was, all along. Just like you. Somehow, Aidan is connected with the Elusti. I don’t know if it was out of choice or because they found me and he was trapped. I know now that I was nothing more than a curiosity to him, some unique treasure.
“As for the FBI watching me, I cannot answer that. I didn’t know they were, let alone that I was on any list. I’m not a terrorist. I’m not an assassin; my only crime is that I’m different. What I do know is that the Elusti are all-seeing and it’s why I have a hard time trusting anyone because usually anyone I get to close to lets me down and betrays me. I told you that. Marcus, you’re…” She walked over to him and placed both her hands on his chest.
“What, Ella? I’m what?” He dipped his head closer to her. His eyes washed over hers as her long lashes swept against her snowy skin and then lifted. Her deep blue eyes stared into his, and he saw the pupils flare with expectation. A longing to possess those sweet rose-bud lips coursed through him. Moments ticked by as the wall clock chimed and burning desire laced the air between them.
“Don’t deny it, Ella. There’s a connection between us. I want you as much as you want me, but it will only complicate things,” he whispered against her ear. Remembering his mother’s prediction of a child made him step away and walk out the French doors as he reached in his pocket for his cell phone. At one time, a quick romp with Ella would have been fine: his morals were his, and he answered to no one. He gave in to the needs of his body. It made him feel better about other parts of his life that he couldn’t handle. But now, he was terrified his life would change and that once with Ella wouldn’t satisfy his growing desire. After what his mother said, he needed to ensure they remained distant from each other and ignored any chemistry, even though he wasn’t sure that was possible any more. The need to protect her was driving him to distraction and any thoughts of his career would soon be up in flames.
It wasn’t simply his body that yearned to make her his; there was a stirring in his cold heart that begged for release. It was out of the question to abandon her and it was out of the question to hand her over to the authorities—there was no one he trusted there. She would get eaten alive. For some reason—and he couldn’t begin to explain why—he trusted and believed her; that didn’t happen to him easily. He trusted her as though she was a member of his team—hell, she could be. No, his damn gut was telling him—no, urging him—to do whatever it took to keep her safe and by his side. What a mess. None of this was part of his plan. His fingers busily tapped away on his phone, which vibrated with a call. Lifting it to his ear, he listened and hoped for a miracle.
“Jake, buddy, tell me you have some good news. I could do with some.” He walked through the garden, needing the fresh air to cool his heated blood and lessen his desire. Smelling her perfume, seeing her washed and dressed in jeans and that sexy top had turned him on more than when she was practically naked on the bed. He knew just looking at her that he wasn’t alone in this mutual madness. Try as she might to deny it, he knew that Ella desired him. It was there in her smoking eyes, beckoning him. Hell, he couldn’t even think straight. Maybe he should just put them both out of their misery and be done with it. Maybe the fizzle would burn out.
Whatever was going on, whether he liked it or not, somehow there was a bond between them. Hell, perhaps there always had been. Perhaps he’d been waiting for her all his life. He ran his hand through his hair. Ella was the unknown. Life would never be ordinary or boring with her. But she was the epitome of what he grew up hating, and if his mother was telling the truth, would they spend the rest of their lives being hunted and persecuted? If Ella was as different as his mother or worse, they would never have a normal life. No matter what the dreams predicted or his mother said. It would be better for them both if they stayed apart from each other. He would help Ella, and get to the bottom of the professor’s murder, but then he would set her free.
“Marcus, are you there, boss…”
“Sorry, what’s the news?” He shook himself out of his daydreams and listened to Jake as he rattled on about files being encrypted and codes not being the usual. He was stressed but Marcus knew if anyone could get the information, it would be Jake.
“I need more time, man. This isn’t some run-of-the-mill computer system I’m breaking into. There are many layers to their security. I keep coming up against new firewalls. I have managed to place a tap on your boss’s phone so we can see who he’s chatting to, if that helps?”
It wasn’t the news he’d hoped for. If Jake had managed to get into the FBI’s system, that might have given him knowledge of their involvement with the Elusti. Although he knew getting outright confirmation would be damn near impossible. They wouldn’t identify themselves; it would all be in code. He knew it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.
“Yes. Have you put a tail on him?”
“Bear and…shit, I wasn’t meant…” They were part of his team, Bear and Shadow—they came as a package and he knew if Bear was working on this, so would Shadow.
“I appreciate it. Tell them I said hi and to stay out of sight. I don’t know what I’m getting into here but if the Elusti are at the root of this, I have to take it as far as I can. Do you understand what I’m saying? It doesn’t mean you guys have to be involved. This is my mission. It isn’t sanctioned by any agency. I’m alone.”
There were several deep breaths and about a minute’s pause. “That’s bullshit, boss. You’re not alone—never have been, never will be. We all made a decision while you were out chasing the skirt that this is payback. Do you understand me? Maybe we need to set up our own agency?”
Deep down, he hadn’t expected anything less and if the roles were reversed, those would be his words. He nodded, even though Jake wouldn’t see him, and let out a deep breath. Setting up his own crew, his own agency was the stuff dreams were made of but it took money. But after this, he would need a complete rethink of his future for sure. If he managed to stay alive.
“Gotcha. I appreciate it but don’t take any unnecessary risks. Keep me informed on any news because we’ll need to move soon. We cannot stay here forever.” The phone clicked. A twig snapped behind him as a rush of air touched him and he spun around, ready. He lifted his fully loaded Sig and aimed it in the same direction, fearing an intruder or worse. Instead, Ella stood there; her hair blew wildly, her blue eyes sparkled and her raspberry lips beckoned to him. He released his hold on the trigger and replaced his gun into his holster.
“It’s only me,” she said, frozen to the spot.
“Damn it, Ella. I could’ve killed you. Don’t ever creep up on an armed man, especially me.” Deep trenches formed across his lightly tanned forehead. He was on edge and she was the reason. She moved closer and stood inches from his side, so close he could feel the heat emanate from her.
“You left me and I wanted—” She reached her hand up and let her fingertips smooth across his jaw until they stopped at the border of his lips. Standing on tiptoes, she stretched her arms around the back of his neck and pulled him toward her. “Kiss me.”
The wind rustled through the amber and yellow leaves left scattered in the garden, the sweet scent of the flowers running havoc with his overloaded senses. Marcus wrapped his arms around her waist and held her against his heaving chest. This was the last thing they should be doing—they didn’t have time and it was more than a little complicated—but his heart responded nonetheless. The fact Ella was melting against h
im increased a wild need to take, to possess, that he couldn’t explain or fight. He wanted her.
He lowered his head and nibbled at her soft lower lip as she parted her mouth for him. It didn’t matter that they were outside; he moved his hand from her back and slipped it underneath her barely there blouse to caress her warm, silky skin, making her tremble. Roaming it across her ribs and continuing its journey upwards, his hand sought her round, pert breast. As his fingers reached her nipple, his thumb stroked through the lacy material; Ella shuddered against him and a moan escaped. His thumb rubbed the sensitive tip and he squeezed gently; her pupils dilated, leaving only a sliver of blue around them.
“I need you to kiss me.” Her voice was hoarse and demanding. Her skin was so soft like a flower petal, and he longed to explore all her delicate curves and discover all the places she liked to be touched while he watched her as he sent her over the precipice, hurtling toward ecstasy. An overwhelming need to please her drove him.
However, if he took that step, he wasn’t sure he would be able to recover or walk away. The growing intense need to claim and brand her in some way made no sense to him because he had never felt this way ever about a woman. If only she knew the power she held over him. That startling revelation made him snatch his hand away as if burned. He needed to stop. There was no future for them, and he couldn’t bring a child into a world that was as messed up as this. No way. Marcus kissed the tip of her nose and backed away, watching her face crumple with disappointment. He walked a short distance away.
“I don’t have relationships, Ella. I have sex. I love sex, but that’s all it is to me. If that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m your man. I cannot give you any more. You need to know that before…” he said more harshly than he meant. Staring at her eyes still wide with desire, he stalked toward her but she stumbled back. Ella’s eyes glazed over with what he thought was confusion and hurt. He wasn’t sure but she swept her arms up to cross her chest protectively and he stopped.
“I’ll help you, but don’t mistake that for anything more. My mother, the dreams—they stay out of this mess. Do you understand?” He pushed his face right into hers, clenching his neat row of white teeth tightly and a wall of stone faced her, making her flinch.
“Marcus, I…I’m sorry, you’re right. I don’t know what came over me. The last thing I need is to get involved with some guy who’s only going to hand me over to the FBI.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched as he heard her words and watched as she tried to be strong. She was vulnerable despite all her bravado. Ella deserved a warrior but it wasn’t him. He was no hero. He would only end up letting her down. Ella turned and walked toward the house.
“When I caught you at the bank, you said you were going home to Wales. Why?” Marcus called to her back. Ella swiped her cheeks with her hand before she faced him. A pasty-looking Ella stared at him, and then her gaze stared off at the sea.
“I need to go back to where it started, to where my first life began. I know you don’t want to accept who I am or who your mother is or who you are for that matter, but sooner or later you’ll have to face it. I’m a soul-shifter, Marcus. In the sixteenth century, when Elizabeth I sat on the throne, ruling the land by Divine Right, I was murdered for a crime I didn’t commit. My name was Gwendolyn Smythe. I was sentenced as a witch and hung. It seems in each of my lives, there are a few common elements. I’ve always had some connection to helping others, as a healer, a nurse, or teacher but the desire to help is strong. Another factor is the men in my life always let me down. I was a widow but left with a small property in a village outside of Carmarthen called Twi. I helped the villagers, mainly mothers with their babes, but anyone who suffered an ailment came knocking on my door. I helped people. One such man called Charles Mostyn was a patient and I treated him for his ailments with my herbs and lotions. He was a powerful man, a justice of the peace.”
Marcus put his hand up. “What, you expect me to believe you’re five hundred years old? You don’t look old enough!” He scoffed and smiled but it was flat on his face, disbelieving her words.
“Marcus, I’m not physically that old. My soul—oh, just listen, will you? I’m a healer. I care for people and animals; that has never changed in all my lives. There was a woman called Lisa Way; she was my friend, at least I thought so. Anyway, she was having secret liaisons with this man but he was married. I hasten to add, I knew none of this. When he wouldn’t leave his wife, things turned nasty. When I discovered what was going on, my fate was sealed….”
Ella inhaled the salty air and walked to the edge of the garden where the roar of the ocean uplifted her. Memories of the screams of the waiting eager crowds who watched as she was hung surfaced as the seagulls screeched and she gasped. Hangings were a dime a dozen in those days, where an evil man named Rowland Lee was put in charge of ruling over Wales. He was a cruel man who hung over five thousand criminals in nine years and he worked for King Henry VII. Hearing a low growl, she turned around as Marcus grabbed her arms and pulled on them.
“You said all the men in your life betrayed you. That time it was a woman?” His thick brows dipped, forming a v shape as he held her shoulders in a bruising grip as he spat the words out. Marcus stood by her side and stared at her as his nostrils flared in anger. The silvery gray waves beat ferociously against the rocks, sending the spray up toward their faces and her heart stampeded inside her ribs. She’d faced worse. She wasn’t afraid of Marcus; she was used to rejection, humiliation, and disgust, all the emotions that mirrored on his stern face.
“True, Lisa lied, plotted, and murdered, but it was the men who sentenced me to death. It was the local vicar who swore I’d charmed a child into madness and it was a mostly male jury that found me guilty of witchcraft, which I might add, I’ve been found guilty of twice and hung twice. I’m not a witch. I’m a soul-shifter, born into the clan of Ariana. Here’s my birthmark—the crescent moon. I didn’t choose this life. This is who I am. I don’t die—well, I die, but my soul is born again into another life. I didn’t know that Lisa was planning to kill Charles. I gave him the herbs to help with the headaches he suffered. Anyway, I made my usual mixture of crushed feverfew leaves, which taste slightly bitter so I added some honey, but it was good for headaches. It was not a harmful substance. It was not poison. On the day in question, I was called away to tend to a sick child. When Lisa offered to take the medicine to him, I didn’t think twice. I agreed and let her go. I thought nothing more about it. The next day, he was dead. They said I poisoned him, that I was a witch. I would never do that. Our people believe life is sacred.”
Marcus couldn’t breathe or swallow. She was a witch—no, not a witch: a soul-shifter. She had been sentenced to death and hung. He massaged his neck; the air around him swirled fast. His heart charged along and the pulse in his neck ached. A fiery storm of anger and rage frothed from inside like a volcano. He was furious but he wasn’t sure at who: her or those who had hurt her. She stood before him wide-eyed with her flowing locks and blue eyes, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Utterly convinced of her words, surely she was delusional. “You remember the past but you cannot remember the night of the fight or whether you killed Aidan?” He pulled her small hands into his roughly and held them, frowning and trying to focus on the present.
“I don’t know. He was torturing me, and then I was dumped in the forest. Why? When I died that first time, Marcus, I didn’t know who I was, and I didn’t know I would be reborn. When I awoke in my fourth life, I thought I was going mad. I had new memories but the old ones kept interfering and haunting me. I had nightmares as a child and no one knew how to stop them. When I’m reborn, it’s like I’ve been in a deep sleep for centuries. Everything aches and feels strange, awkward. When I stare at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize the face. It’s not me and yet it is. Do you understand the madness one feels? In my fourth life, my mother died giving birth to me and my father was never around. When I moved to Tregowen House, there was a magic to
the estate that I had never experienced before. There I met Barnaby, a mysterious but kind man, a laborer who knew what I was the minute he laid eyes on me and my mark. He introduced me to others like myself. It was the first time in all my lives I felt at peace with who I was.” The wind blew her hair around her small face as pale as the milky moon.
Marcus stared, unblinking, absorbing her story and grasping the meaning.
“How did Barnaby know what you were? Was he the same?” The ocean roared as loud as Marcus’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Barnaby was a Romanian gypsy…he saw my crescent moon-shaped birthmark. He’d seen it before and knew I belonged to the clan of Ariana. The moon goddess. There’s a legend that says Ariana, the moon and fertility goddess, was lonely in the heavens above and one day a man from the earth below called out to her. Hearing her name, she descended to the earth in search of the one who had uttered her name but she couldn’t find him. As lonely as she was, she sought out many human lovers and for centuries roamed the earth, bearing many offspring and thus creating her own race, her own clan. Finally, she discovered the one who was her true love but he was old and dying. To save him, she took him back with her to the heavens, where they lived forever. Every now and then, Ariana is said to interfere in the lives of her descendants as the gods were not happy with her journey into the human realm, and they cursed her descendants who are now half-gods and half-humans. The curse allows each soul-shifter to be reborn up to five times as Arianna roamed the earth for five centuries until they find their true love or their existence ends.” Ella moved her amulet up her wrist to reveal a pale indent on her wrist and he traced the outline with his finger.