20 Shades of Shifters_A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  She was going to go crazy not knowing.

  The doorbell rang. Finn? Her heart rate picked up, and she hurried to the door. But when she opened it, Bella stood there. “Is Finn here?” she asked.

  Rachel shook her head. “No. He left. I don’t know where.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip, clearly unsure what to do next. “Can I come in for a moment?”

  “Of course.” She stepped aside to allow the other woman to enter.

  “I have a letter for you,” Bella said. “It just came.”

  She frowned. “How did it find me here?”

  “It’s from your father’s solicitor. It was sent to Stormlord Securities with a request that we forward it to you. Presumably, your father knew Finn was in some sort of contact with you.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a long white envelope, handed it to Rachel. “You want me to go?” she asked. “Leave you alone to read it?”

  Rachel glanced at her. Maybe Bella could answer some of her questions. “No. Would you stay a while? I need someone to talk to.”

  A little frown crossed her face, and Rachel had the distinct impression that Bella didn’t want to talk. That she either knew she didn’t have the answers or, more likely, she knew the answers but wouldn’t tell. But after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “I’ll go make some coffee while you read your letter.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bella disappeared into the kitchen, and Rachel took her letter and sat down on the sofa. She stroked her fingers over it, unwilling to find out what was inside. She’d had no contact from her father since she was four years old. Why would he have written to her? Though Finn had said that he’d cared. Just not enough.

  She tore open the envelope. Inside were two pieces of paper. The first was a typewritten letter from her father’s solicitor, stating Michael Danvers had asked him to forward the enclosed note in case of his death. And that could she read it and make an appointment with his office. She smoothed out the second paper with trembling fingers.

  Dear Rachel,

  If you’re receiving this letter, presumably I am dead.

  I’m sorry that I failed you in life. I loved your mother, but not enough to give up my life for hers. And she would never have been truly happy in mine. I’ve kept watch over you from a distance, and if you had ever seemed unhappy, I would have intervened, but you always seemed content.

  I’ve left you a sum of money, so that if you should want a different life for yourself and your child, then this will enable you the freedom to do so. If not, donate it to your church. Or keep it for your boy—my grandson, who I’ve never seen. Whatever makes you happy. As I have not.

  One piece of advice. Do not trust my father.

  Michael Danvers

  Well, at least now she had the options. Presumably, the money would be enough to keep her and Jacob if they wanted to leave Haven. It would enable them to be independent.

  But she knew in that moment that she didn’t want to be independent.

  She wanted Finn.

  She reread her father’s words. He claimed to have loved her mother. But she guessed that what he’d felt hadn’t been love. Instinctively, she knew that love was giving up everything. Where the happiness of another person meant more than your own. Her father clearly hadn’t felt that. Maybe he hadn’t been capable of feeling that.

  She’d loved him, though. As a small child. It was one of the few things she remembered of their life before her mother had run back to Haven, leaving her husband behind.

  She got up and wandered into the kitchen, found Bella seated at the counter, sipping a mug of coffee with a pot in front of her.

  “Everything all right?” she asked.

  Rachel got herself a mug from the cupboard and poured a coffee, then added cream. She was developing some decadent habits. She sank down onto the stool across from Bella. “My father left me some money.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “I don’t want his money.”

  She shrugged. “Then give it to charity.”

  “I might.” She sipped her coffee and thought about what to say. “He said he loved my mother. Just not enough. What sort of love is that?”

  “No love at all.”

  “Do you love Torr?”

  “More than life itself.”

  The words were clearly heartfelt. She almost expected Bella to ask about her feelings for Finn, but the question never came. They drank in silence for a minute.

  “We met a man when we were out with Jacob yesterday. Finn called him Dawson. He said some weird things. That I should ask Finn what my life is worth. What did he mean?”

  She expected Bella to say she had no clue, but she didn’t. She frowned, then bit her lip. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

  “But you do know?”

  She shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Some things. Not everything. But I’m not allowed to talk. There are reasons. Really good reasons.”

  “Did you know Finn can change into a wolf?”

  Bella remained silent.

  “I’m guessing the answer to that is yes, you did know. And he’s got a whole load of friends who can also turn into wolves. And they’ve been watching over me most of my life.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Isn’t it? I’m just not sure why I needed watching over.”

  “The forest can be a dangerous place?” Bella suggested.

  “Do you want to know what else I’m guessing?” She didn’t wait for Bella to answer. “I’m guessing that Mr. Dawson is one of those people who can change into a wolf.” She closed her eyes, pressed her fingers to her lids, trying to make sense of it. “What I don’t understand, and what no one is willing to tell me, is what is any of that to do with me?” She looked away, her eyes pricking.

  “Aw, Rachel, I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. But it would cause more problems, and I don’t dare. You need to talk to Finn.”

  “He’s not here. And I’m not sure he’d tell me anyway.” She sniffed. “I think I should go home. But I can’t make myself. I keep feeling like there’s something I need to do. But I can’t remember what, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  Bella looked away for a moment. Then she got to her feet. She was leaving. But she hesitated. “I can’t interfere,” she said. “It’s not allowed.”

  Rachel wanted to scream…not allowed by whom? But Bella was already speaking again. “But I read this article the other day, and I thought you might find it interesting.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a magazine, folded open. She handed it to Rachel. “Read it.”

  Then she was walking away. At the door she hesitated and turned back. “Just…don’t leave it too long.”

  And she was gone. Rachel stared at the door. Leave what too long?

  She glanced down at the magazine in her hand and frowned.

  It was open at an article. Regression Hypnosis. Truth or Lies. Who were you in a past life?

  She spread the magazine out on the table and started to read the article. She got to the end and started again. One paragraph in particular resonated with her.

  Do you have dreams that seem more real than life? Then it may be that you are reliving a former existence.

  She read the credits at the bottom of the page. The author was a professor based at a university here in Washington, DC. And suddenly, Rachel knew what she had to do. Bella’s words echoed through her mind: Don’t leave it too long. Time was running out. She jumped to her feet, the need to move pushing her on. She went into Jacob’s bedroom and crouched down beside him, touching him lightly on the shoulder. His eyes blinked open, and he smiled.

  “Hey, baby, we need to go out for a little while.”

  He looked past her. “Is Finn coming with us?”

  “Not this time. But I bet he’ll be here when we get back.”

  He scrambled out of bed, and she helped him put his shoes on, then grabbed a jacket, her phone, and the purse of money Bella had given her two days ago. S
he took Jacob’s hand and left the apartment, half expecting to be stopped, but she saw no one as they exited the building. She’d seen a taxi stand a block down and she headed there. The skin prickled between her shoulder blades, but when she turned around she saw no one. She gave the taxi driver the address of the university and sat back, her arm around Jacob.

  What was she doing?

  The taxi dropped her off outside the university’s main entrance. She paid the driver, then took Jacob’s hand and headed inside. At the reception desk, she asked for professor Kauffman’s office. She had an idea that she would need an appointment. But the woman behind the desk just smiled and said, “Take the elevator to the second floor, and it’s the fourth door on your left.”

  Hopefully that meant the professor was here.

  She found the office with the professor’s name on the door, so she was in the right place. After knocking, she tried the handle. The door was unlocked, and she opened it and walked in. She found herself in an office with another woman seated behind a desk typing into a keyboard and watching a monitor. She glanced up and smiled. “Can I help you?”

  There was a chair against the opposite wall and she let go of Jacob’s hand. “Go sit for a minute, darling.”

  He nodded and sat, his feet dangling, and she turned her attention back to the woman. “I’d like to see Professor Kauffman, please.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. But it’s important.”

  “I can make you an appointment for next week. If you’ll just let me know why you need to see the professor.”

  Next week would be too late. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. “Please, I—”

  As she spoke, the inner door opened, and a man stepped out. Tall, with a thin, handsome face and dark hair flecked with gray. She recognized him from the photo in the magazine.

  She stepped toward him. “Professor Kauffman.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Rachel Miller. I read your article.” She held out the magazine. “I need to talk to you.”

  He gave her an absent smile. “I’m afraid I have a meeting right now. But my assistant will sort you out an appointment.”

  She stepped in front of him. “Please. It’s important. Really important.” She lowered her voice, not wanting Jacob to hear her words. “Please. I dream of dying. I’ve died so many times, and I know that if I don’t find out why, then soon I will die again, this time for real. And I have a son and…” She gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t want to die.”

  He glanced into her face, his gaze holding hers. He must have seen something, because he gave an abrupt nod. “Can you call Peter and tell him I’ve been delayed?” he said to his assistant, then turned back to her. “Your son will be safe with Mary.”

  “Can you stay out here with the nice lady for a little while, Jacob?”

  He nodded solemnly. He was such a good child.

  She followed the professor into a large office with a big window. Bookcases lined the other walls. A big dark-wood desk stood across one corner. He waved Rachel into a chair next to it and sat down in the leather chair across from her.

  “Tell me why you think I can help you, Rachel.”

  “I’m not sure you can. I’m not even sure I need help.” She shook her head. “That’s wrong. I do need help. I just don’t know why. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but something bad. I can feel it so close.”

  “Feel what?”

  “Death.” That was the first time she’d admitted her fears to herself.

  He studied her for a minute. “You seem healthy enough. Any health issues?”

  “Nothing that I know of.”

  “Do you have a history of mental health problems?”

  “No.”

  “Ever been in therapy?”

  “Never.”

  “Tell me about these dreams. Is it something recent?”

  “No. I’ve always dreamed. My mother told me I dreamed in the cradle. But always the details slipped away when I woke.”

  “But you remember what the dreams were about.”

  “They were about dying. I’ve died so many times.” She clasped her hands together on her lap. “Then the night before last, I dreamed, and I remembered.”

  “Do you know why? Has something changed?”

  Everything had changed. “I came to the city three days ago; before that I lived in a small community in a very rural area.”

  “The reason for your move?”

  “My father died recently, and my grandfather asked me to move here with my son. I said no, and he sent men to kidnap us. I got away, but my son was brought here, and I came to get him back.”

  “You obviously succeeded. Tell me about the dream.”

  She closed her eyes, and she was back in the cold, the water filling her lungs, she was choking… She pushed the memory away and started talking, recounting the dream as she had for Finn. When she finished, he was watching her, tapping a pen on the table in front of him.

  “So in the dream you have a son, and he dies. Do you think perhaps the dream is just playing out your recent fears for your son? That you lost him? His death in the dream is merely a symbol for the fear you felt when he was taken from you?”

  Could it be that simple? She wanted to believe it, but she didn’t. “No. I remembered the dream this time, but I know I’ve had it before. It was so familiar. And I’ve always had a terror of water.”

  “Good.” Good? She frowned, and he continued, “I suspect the dream is a repressed memory.”

  “A memory of what?”

  “A past life, of course. That’s why you came here, isn’t it? Because you believed you have lived before.”

  Died before. “Someone gave me your article. I think they wanted me to come here. I think they want me to remember, but can’t tell me.”

  He rose to his feet and gestured for her to get up. She did and followed him across the room to a leather couch.

  “I use a method called regression hypnosis,” he said. “You’ll be put into light trance, and I’ll ask you some questions that will hopefully unlock your mind and release your memories of any past lives.”

  “Will I remember what happens while I’m hypnotized?”

  “You’ll remember everything.”

  “You really believe that people can be reborn?”

  “Of course. Though not everyone. Most of us only have one life.”

  “Why? Why me?”

  “No one knows. But perhaps your memories will give you some hint of the reasons.” He waved to the couch, and she sank down and stretched out. Her heart was beating fast and sweat broke out on her forehead. She wanted this to work, she wanted to find the truth, but at the same time she was scared and didn’t want to relive the horror of that death another time.

  “Try to relax. Loosen your hands.”

  They were balled into fists at her side and she forced her fingers to open, her palms to unclench.

  “Close your eyes, Rachel.”

  Her lashes fluttered closed. She was breathing fast, and she consciously slowed it down, breathing in and out.

  “I’m going to count back from one hundred,” he said. “As soon as you’re under, I’ll start the questions.”

  He started counting in a rhythmic voice and she could feel herself drifting off, the room fading from her consciousness.

  “Tell me what happened before you died. Tell me why they killed you and your son.”

  I don’t know.

  But as the words flashed through her mind, she was already back in that former life. Her first life. When she’d fallen in love with an angel.

  “My name was Damaris.”

  Chapter 22

  Damaris stood on the edge of the desert, her arms wrapped around herself as the sun lowered in the sky. She was dressed in a tunic of dark-red linen, sleeveless and reaching almost to her feet.

  She was waiting. Finn had asked her to meet him here. He’d told her he had important news. That
she and Marcus should be ready to move. That they had to leave this place with his brothers and find a new home.

  At the back of her mind the familiar sense of foreboding nagged at her consciousness. She’d always known that loving Finn was dangerous. Wrong. He was an angel, so far above her. He belonged to God. But how could she not love him? He was so pure, and good, and beautiful. He made her feel like a woman, and when he made love to her, she knew she’d found heaven on earth. But at the back of her mind, there was always the thought that everything had to be paid for.

  So she’d been afraid. And she’d never spoken the words. Never told him she loved him. She presumed he knew, and he’d never pushed her, though he said the words often. I love you.

  She hoped in their new home, she’d be able to leave her fears behind and at last tell him what he meant to her, how much she loved him.

  And then he was there, high above her, flying on golden wings. He landed lightly beside her, his wings folding over his back. In his hands, he cradled a goblet, gold inlaid with green stones. He held it out to her.

  “What have you brought me?” she asked, taking the goblet from his hands.

  “Wine. Flavored with sunshine to warm you for the journey ahead.”

  “We’re still leaving?”

  He nodded. “Are you ready to go?”

  She nodded. “Everything is packed. Marcus is waiting for us. I’ve told him we’re going on an exciting trip.” At the thought of Marcus, a twinge of guilt shot through her. Because she loved Finn more than her own blood. Though Marcus would never know that.

  He was so beautiful, with his golden wings and the face of an angel. Gray eyes that looked at her as though she was all he had ever wanted. A look that made her scared. How could he love her that way? He was an angel and she was a mere mortal, and she couldn’t believe his words that he would love her forever. How could he when one day she would grow old and die and leave him behind?

  She peered into the goblet. The wine was dark red and reminded her of blood. A shiver ran through her.

  “Drink,” he said.