by Brenda Trim
His statement should have frightened her off, and she wondered why he would share this information with her. It wasn’t the best pickup line, but it did nothing to deter her. Quite the opposite, she found herself not only wildly attracted to him, but also intrigued, wanting to know more about him. A sudden unpleasant thought crossed her mind. He likely belonged to someone else.
“Oh, you have a son. That must mean you have a mate. I would apologize for my forward behavior, but I can’t lie. You are sexy as hell, and I’m incredibly drawn to you.” The idea that he had another female in his bed didn’t sit well with her and it made absolutely no sense as to why. And, when she found herself holding her breath waiting for his answer, her confusion grew.
“No, I have no one in my life. My son, Donovan, is six years old. Since his mother left me, it takes all my time and energy to care for him. He is a very active stripling.” She noticed the sadness when he talked about his son and his son’s mother.
She was shocked that a female left him with their child. She’d never heard of a Fated Mate being able to separate like that, and even more, she couldn’t imagine a mother leaving their child behind. She wondered if his child was an Adorned. Given her own experience with her mother leaving her father, she could understand this female leaving if they weren’t mated.
“Was she your mate? My mother recently found her Fated Mate, and my sister did as well, and I can’t imagine either one of them getting two feet from their mates.”
“No, she wasn’t my mate. We had dated for a few decades before we had Donovan.”
“So, your son is an Adorned. My sisters and I are, too,” she replied, surprised to find it easy to shift into casual conversation with Braeden.
He cocked his head to the side and studied her. “How many sisters do you have?”
“I have two, we’re triplets,” she said, sipping her drink and watching his reaction. She could scarcely make that comment and not have someone ask if she was one of the prophesied triplets.
“Triplets are unheard of. Let alone Adorned triplets. I’ve only heard of one set in my three hundred fifty years. You must be one of the famed Rowan triplets.”
“We have been told that we are the prophesied ones, but none of us buy into it. We’re simple business owners.” At his raised eyebrow, she continued. “My sisters and I own the Black Moon Sabbat. What do you do?”
He had inched closer to her as they spoke. He was so close that she felt his heat radiating off his body. He reached out and ran his finger along her collarbone. She shuddered at his light touch, her nipples hardening with her arousal. Surprisingly, she found she wanted to get to know him as much as she wanted to throw him down and have her way.
“I am an artist. I create metal sculptures that I sell to both humans and the realm.”
“Wow, you don’t hear of realm members interacting with humans much. I’d love to see your work sometime. I’m always looking to add pieces to our house.” She had to see this male again and any excuse would do.
“I’d love to show you my…sculpture,” he winked at her, making her ache to be alone with him. They fell into an easy conversation about nothing and everything, all the while, keeping their flirty banter.
Braeden broke off mid-sentence and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I have thoroughly enjoyed talking with you, Isis. But, I have to go,” he said, glancing at his phone. “I would like to see you again, can I call you?”
“Don’t make me wait too long. Hand me your phone,” she told him. She programmed her number into his phone under the name, Sassy Little Bit and smiled as she handed it back to him. He laughed when he looked at the screen. She lost her breath when he looked up and she saw the mirth on his face. He was good-looking, but laughter had lifted gravity from his features that she hadn’t realized had been there.
*****
“I expected you hours ago,” the raspy, female voice barked the moment Braeden entered the dark dungeon, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He wanted to strangle the life out of the heinous female with her mousy, brown hair.
Braeden felt the impotent rage course through his veins, but was unable to do anything to Cele given that she held his son hostage. She had kidnapped Donovan days ago, and the only reason she had given him was that she wanted to make the Rowan triplets pay. He had no idea what she was talking about. He didn’t know the Rowan triplets, and his son certainly had nothing to do with them. Harming Donovan wasn’t going to make these witches pay at all, but no matter how hard he had tried to convince Cele of this, she wasn’t listening. It didn’t matter to her that his son was innocent and didn’t deserve this.
Ready to do what Cele had asked, he hadn’t been prepared for meeting Isis. The moment he saw Isis, his anger quickly bled away to be replaced by an instant attraction and unadulterated lust. His was a cambion, and no stranger to lust and sex, but what he felt toward her was beyond any experience.
She was a beautiful, feisty female, and he’d enjoyed their conversation. Her red hair matched her fiery personality. It hadn’t taken long for Braeden to suspect that she and her sisters were innocent, too. He wanted nothing more than to take his son and return to Isis. He wanted to take her home and talk to her some more before making love to her. Cambions had a high sex drive, but he had never been as strung up as he was after meeting the redhead.
His soul, which had been restless since his son was kidnapped, settled in her presence. He craved to feel that again, like a drug addict seeking his next fix. He wanted to find a small measure of peace again, and she seemed to hold the key.
“You instructed me to get to know the Rowan sisters and learn their weaknesses. That takes time,” he retorted with all the vehemence he felt toward her. He rounded the corner and tears welled in his eyes when he saw his son.
His clenched his fists at his sides, preventing him from doing something stupid, like rip the witch’s head from her shoulders. He’d dreamt of it countless time, but that would leave his son in her mystical prison, so he swallowed his fury as much as possible and took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. He gazed around the dungeon in Cele’s home that had been carved out of the earth. The walls were red brick, and there was a dirt floor. The damp, musty smell of the area was stamped in his memory.
“What did you learn?” she demanded, her midnight-blue eyes flashing in the torch-lit room.
“That they own Black Moon Sabbat. They are triplets and Isis likes Mexican Food and the color green. Oh, and also, they live together and Pema, the oldest of the triplets, was recently mated to a bear shifter named Ronan.” He kept his eyes on his son as he slumbered in his crystal prison.
Cele stood at his side and shrieked, her spindly arms flailing in anger. Her body and features reminded him of a spider. Of course, if she was one, she’d be a brown recluse. One bite would kill you. “I know all of that already! I need something I don’t know.”
He turned toward her and narrowed his eyes. “These sisters are supposed to be the most powerful witches in the realm. Maybe I go to them and ask them to help get my son back.” Maybe Isis would agree to help him. Besides, he feared how far Cele would take things. He didn’t mind getting to know three beautiful witches. After all, he enjoyed sex as much as any male, but hurting them was something he couldn’t agree to. He glanced back at his son, questioning if he was pushing her too far.
She began pacing, her high heels clacking on the stone. He could see her wheels spinning and knew he was not going to like what was coming. “Don’t threaten me. You will do whatever it takes to infiltrate their inner circle of trust and learn their weaknesses and you will speak of this to no one. Sàmhchair,” she spat, pulling her wand out and pointing it directly at him.
He wondered what she had done to him because he didn’t feel any different. He didn’t dare ask, but the look on her face was one of victory.
A second later, he understood her confidence. “Remember that I need them to concede their power to me. To ensure you get me the inform
ation I need,” she turned to face the crystal bubble that housed his son and turned her wand to Donovan and muttered, “Tinneasium.”
His son’s eyes snapped open and he began screaming out in pain. Braeden tried grabbing Cele’s arm, but bounced off a protective field. He punched and kicked at her, never once touching her. He even tried to use his cambion power of mind manipulation to force her to lower the shield, but nothing managed to penetrate the invisible barrier. There was no way to get to the witch, and he found himself standing there, glaring at her. He swore he would have his vengeance against her for harming his son.
His son caught sight of him in the room and cried out. “Papa, help me. It hurts,” As Donovan wailed, hitting the walls, Braeden roared his rage and impotence, futilely pounding against the invisible barrier.
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
“I can’t believe you spent time talking to a cambion! That has to be some kind of realm record. Do you think he was gay?” Suvi shook her head in disbelief and grabbed her whole-grain bagel from the toaster.
“I’m a little shocked myself. No, he definitely wasn’t gay. He was hot for me and had a cockstand the entire time we talked. But he made no move, even though I made it clear that I was interested. He said his son’s mother left him and I can’t help but wonder if he was holding back because of her.”
Isis hadn’t been able to sleep last night as her mind replayed every word Braeden had said. Not to mention, how wound up her body had been. She almost called Rhys, her go-to male, but he wasn’t the one she wanted. This time, a substitute just wouldn‘t do.
Suvi spread cream cheese on her bagel and took a bite. “Why are you thinking about this anymore? Move on.”
Isis ran her hand through her tangled hair. That was the question. She wasn’t one to obsess about males. Yet, here she was, still in her pajamas, when normally she would have been at the shop. Instead, she was sitting there continuing to brood over a male. She needed to see him again, and act out the fantasies that had plagued her throughout the night. “Maybe I’ll call him and ask him to go to White River Amphitheater for the Mayhem Festival with me tonight. If he can’t get a sitter, would you watch his son?”
Suvi gaped, shock written all over her face. “I don’t do children. Bhric aside, I don’t even do animals. You know that.” At Suvi’s words, the black bat on her shoulder flapped its wings. “But, I love you, my sweet,” Suvi cooed at her familiar who squawked in response.
Isis and Pema hadn’t chosen to take a familiar, given the demands of their business. The care and protection of a familiar was more than either of them cared to take on. While the bat aided Suvi with her magic, he was more of a companion, and they were all attached to it.
“Hello, sisters,” Pema sang as she walked into the kitchen. She went to the fridge and grabbed out sweet rolls and countless other food items. Isis couldn’t help but notice that her sister radiated joy. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Isis is in love and can’t stop thinking about a cambion she met last night. And, get this, all they did was talk! No sex was involved! Speaking of sex, thank you for taking a break, it’s difficult to sleep, let alone think with all that growling. I was two seconds away from paralyzing his vocal cords,” Suvi remarked, popping the last bite of her bagel into her mouth.
“Yeah, thanks Pema, all the pheromones flying around the house were driving us both to distraction. As for Braeden, I’m not in love, but I admit that can’t stop thinking of him. I hope he calls soon so I can ask him out. But, right now, I am going to be the responsible one and open the shop.” She stood up, knowing she needed to get ready for work, having put off going in long enough.
“Well, you’re going to have to get used to Ronan and I until we can get our room soundproofed. I know you don’t want us to move out. The three of us have been together forever and made a coven of our own. I can’t imagine trying to find another one.”
Isis walked over and lightly popped Pema on the back of her head. “Hell no, you aren’t moving out. I don’t care how many males come into the picture. We made a pact that we’d never live apart. Power of three, baby. Okay, time to get to the shop, even you, Pema.”
Pema opened her mouth to retort. Isis knew she was going to object, as it was clear she didn’t want to be away from her mate, so she cut her off. “You’ve had your honeymoon. A month is long enough, and we need you. There are too many readings on the books for today. Besides, Ronan can come along if he doesn’t have to work.”
Her phone rang before Pema was able to respond. Isis picked it up and didn’t recognize the number. Anticipation bubbled through her veins, hoping it was the sexy cambion. She turned away from her nosy sisters who were clearly eavesdropping. “Hello.”
“Isis? This is Braeden. We met last night at Confetti Too, I hope you remember me.”
Remember him? She hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Tingles of excitement raced along her skin, making her shiver. Her banked arousal rose to the fore. “Of course I remember you, cambion. In fact, I was just talking about you to my sisters. They think I’ve lost my touch because all we did was talk,” she laughed nervously.
“Trust me, you haven’t lost anything. If I hadn’t needed to get to my son, I’m pretty sure you’d still be in my bed. I worried about calling you too early, but then I remembered you said that you and your sisters opened your shop early for your human customers. I want to see you again.”
Isis leaned against the counter and folded her arm across her chest. She had to dial her eagerness back so she didn’t want to seem desperate. “Yeah, I’d like that. Did you have anything in mind?”
“I don’t care what we do as long as I get to see you today,” he replied. Isis loved the masculine edge in his voice, but noticed there was still a disheartened tone to it. She wondered again if he was pining for his son’s mother, even though he seemed eager to see her again. She told herself she was over-thinking the situation and to let it go.
“I have no idea if you like music, but I have tickets to the Mayhem Festival tonight. Would you like to join me?”
“I love music. That sounds fantastic. I’ll pick you up at your shop at six and we can grab a bite to eat beforehand. Do you have any preference for food?”
“I like Mexican. In fact, one of my favorite places is close to the amphitheater. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Can’t wait,” he husked.
Isis ended the call and stared down at her cell phone, waiting for her sisters to give her shit. She had never been so nervous or anxious when talking to a male before, and there was no way they had missed it.
Suvi came up behind her and handed her a paper towel. “Here, you have sweat on your forehead you might want to wipe off. I guess someone is already worked up for her date. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Stop it, Suvi. And, be careful, Isis. There could be more at play here,” Pema warned, causing butterflies to dance in her stomach.
“What do you mean?” Isis asked.
“Fate has a funny way of bringing people together. It’s probably nothing. Let’s get to the shop, we’re late.”
Isis nodded and glanced at the clock on her way out, thinking it was going to be a long day. Six o’clock couldn’t get there soon enough.
*****
“I like the last band best so far,” Braeden rumbled as he leaned down and nipped Isis on the ear. She snuggled deeper into his chest and he inhaled her sweet, peach scent. Mmmm, he loved peaches, especially peach pie.
He almost didn’t call, regardless of how badly he wanted to be with the sexy witch again, but the echoes of his son’s screams had him dialing her number. He was drawn to this witch like no other female, but after what Cele had done to his son, he had vowed off witches, altogether. Magic of any kind was repugnant to him, but there was something about Isis that told him she was different than Cele.
In the time he’d spent talking to Isis, she seemed the complete opposite of Cele. She certainly didn’t s
eem capable of the acts Cele had committed: kidnapping, blackmail, and torturing a stripling. He questioned whether he thought that because of his attraction, but realized it was far more than that. Isis was fun and flirty, and had a deep sense of loyalty to her family. He was quickly becoming addicted to her and found that he wasn’t able to stop touching her. He began to feel guilty about his mission of gathering information for Cele to manipulate her and her sisters.
He felt certain that she would help him save his son and then he wouldn’t have to betray her. He opened his mouth to tell her about Donovan’s kidnapping and imprisonment, but nothing came out. A searing pain strangled his vocal cords, prohibiting any sound from escaping. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to tell her anything. He cleared his mind and found that only then could he clear his throat to find his voice.
“I liked the first band. This is nice, I’m glad you agreed to come. I enjoy spending time with you, even if all you do is tease me,” Isis said, tilting her head back to wink at him.
“Oh, my little witch, like you didn’t wear that almost-see-thru top to taunt me,” he whispered in her ear and pulled her closer to him. Her sweet ass was against his hard cock and a groan escaped his lips. He was relieved that he was finally able to speak and that she hadn’t noticed his struggle moments ago. He watched the fire ignite in her gray eyes. Her pink tongue peeked out of her mouth and traced her full lower lip. It was his undoing since he’d been using most of his energy to keep his cambion proclivities at bay.
He leaned down and brought his lips to hover above hers, knowing if he did this, it would change things. Whatever he did, he couldn’t allow himself to become more emotionally attached to her. This was only about the sex and the sexual energy she could give him. He’d been with countless females for just that purpose, and emotions had never been an issue. This would be no different. He had to repeat the lie several times, and even then, he had his doubts. Something about this female called to him.