by Ann Gimpel
He strode to the counter and bought two large coffees. He started to tell the clerk to add sugar and cream to both but stopped himself. He had her make up one the way he liked it and got sugar and cream to go for Sarai. For all he knew, she preferred her brew black.
“Anything else, sir?” The clerk, a young redhead with huge gray eyes gave him a definite come-on look.
Normally, he’d have flirted with her, testing the waters and making a date for when she got off shift, but no more. He was a mated man, even if his mate might be done with him.
“Aye, I’ll take four of those iced scones, two cinnamon buns, and two of those ham and cheese croissants.”
“Ooooh, I simply adore British accents,” she gushed as she dropped the items he’d selected into white bags.
Yup. He’d pegged it right when she batted her eyelashes his way. He gathered the snacks and coffees in a carry container and dropped a twenty on the glass-topped counter. “Keep the change, and I’m Irish.”
“So? It’s right next door, yes?” She smiled and drew her tongue over her upper lip in obvious invitation.
Niall didn’t waste time telling her no self-respecting Irishman took being mistaken for a Brit lying down. He shouldered out the door, feeling the heat of her gaze following him. The old Niall would have been all over her no-strings fuck-me vibes, but he hadn’t even been marginally tempted.
Maybe there was hope for him, after all.
A quarter hour later, laden with bags of cleaning supplies and food from the café, he punched the elevator button and rode the car down to Sarai’s floor. The journey to the end of the corridor took forever and was over in the blink of an eye. Because his hands were full, he tapped the door with a foot.
Time dribbled past. He felt her energy and was certain she knew he was there. He’d just raised his foot to tap the door again when she called, “Go away.”
Niall was damned if he’d turn tail and run just because she told him to. He may have finally faced his failings, but he’d never been one to walk away from something he wanted.
And he wanted Sarai more than life itself.
Without thinking through the ramifications, or he might not have done it, he focused a jot of magic. The door snicked open, and he walked through. Sarai was on her hands and knees with a scrub brush and a bucket of red-tinged water. Her face was blotchy, and he was certain she’d been crying.
Her tears broke his heart but gave him faith it wasn’t too late for them. He set down his burdens. “I brought more cleaning stuff, and coffee and pastries. This coffee is yours. If you want cream and sugar, they’re in the small bag.”
Before she could do more than gape at him, he snatched up the bucket of filthy water. “I’ll just run this down to the men’s room and fill it with fresh. Back in a flash.”
Niall located a janitorial closet before he found the men’s room. It had a floor drain and spigots, so he dumped the water and cleaned the bucket before refilling it. So far so good. She hadn’t yelled at him. Hadn’t run toward him intent on ripping his eyes out. His arm brushed the lump the wooden box made in his jacket pocket. What with the food and market items, he’d almost forgotten the ring and bracelet.
Her door still stood ajar. He walked through and kicked it shut. She’d moved to a chair and was sipping coffee and clutching a mostly eaten cinnamon bun. He noted she’d added cream to her coffee and filed that fact away, along with a ripped open sugar packet lying on her desk.
There was a new Niall in town. A considerate man who noticed small things like how his mate liked her coffee. He set the bucket with clean water down and drew the wooden box from his pocket, placing it on a table.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The jewelry that goes with your pendant. They’re yours,” he hurried on, “no matter what happens between us.”
A constellation of emotions played over her face, each one gone before he could decipher it. “Thank you for thinking of me.” Her tone was oddly formal, and his gut lurched into his throat. “It was kind of you to bring me something to eat and more cleaning materials, but that doesn’t change anything between us.”
“But I was wrong,” he said, anxious to get that out on the table.
She shook her head and put down her cup. “No. You were just being you. I’m a shifter too, remember? I’ve lived with our people my entire life, and I recognize how you old ones are. There’re too many differences between you and me. It will never work. Not without a whole lot of friction that makes us both miserable.”
He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand, palm outward. “Hear me out. The reason I didn’t get more cleaning done was because I was doing some research. According to one of my sourcebooks, there is a way out of the mate bond. It’s a simple enough ceremony, and it won’t harm either of us—or our bond animals.”
He pulled a chair until it faced her and dropped into it. “Is that what you really want?” He kept his words low, gentle.
“Yes. It’s for the best.” Her eyes sheened with tears. “Sorry. I can’t stop crying. It will pass. It’s three vampire confrontations and not enough to eat and my aunt dying and…” A sob obliterated her next words.
He wanted to surge forward and cradle her in his arms, but it would be a mistake. She’d accuse him of taking advantage of her in a weak moment. He also didn’t mention that her flirting with uprooting their mate bond would tear her heart out, no matter what her reference book suggested.
“We will do whatever you want. I promise I won’t pressure you, but I’d like it if you’d hear me out.”
“I—I’m not sure that’s wise,” she snuffled. “You might snare me in some kind of spell.”
Aye, darling. You’re already snared in the mate bond. Sure and it’s plenty strong without me adding aught to it.
Because she didn’t tell him not to, he started talking, the words bubbling directly from his soul. She might still insist they dissolve their bond—if such a thing were even possible—but he wouldn’t give her up without a fight. Without doing his damnedest to let her know how important she was to him.
And what a fool he’d been not to respect her interpretation of Jeremiah’s bold and dangerous actions.
Chapter 10
Sarai blinked away tears, but more welled behind them. She had to pull herself together. What a weak suck bitch she was. Part of her had actually been thrilled to see Niall. So thrilled it was a struggle not to launch herself into his arms. She might be touched by his thoughtfulness, but she couldn’t let herself be diverted by gestures. Nothing changed what he’d revealed about his character in the saloon in Golddust.
Nothing, and she had to hold that knowledge front and center.
Rather than a flood of reassurances he had no intention of catching her up in a spell, he said, “I would tell you a story, if you’ll indulge me for a moment or two. It’s not a tale I’ve told anyone. At the time it happened, I was truly young and deeply ashamed. I didn’t realize my reaction to those events would shape my life. And not in ways I’m proud of.”
“It’s not necessary,” she murmured, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him a flat-out no and chase him out of her shop.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The opal warmed where it hung between her breasts, emitting soothing emanations almost as if it were urging her to listen. She should jerk the chain over her head and rid herself of the gem. It was linked to the MacLiers, so of course it would be on Niall’s side. The gem thrummed hotly in clear disagreement with her plan, but it needn’t have bothered. She couldn’t divest herself of it anymore than she could tell Niall to piss up a rope and leave.
He leaned closer but stopped shy of touching her. “May I continue?”
Sarai nodded, not trusting what might come out of her mouth. Part of her didn’t want him to share intimate secrets about trials that had shaped him, but a far bigger part wanted to soak in every single scrap of data about the jaguar shifter sitting a few inches away.
&nbs
p; “Thank you. I appreciate it. This will not take long.” His words were formal, old-fashioned, and they highlighted the centuries dividing them.
“While I’m certain you studied the war that drove us from the Old Country,” he went on, “reading about it in books can’t be anything like being there. I was sloppy, full of hubris, and not paying attention. A group of mages intent on separating me from my animal nature zeroed in on my brashness and abducted me. The world was a very different place then. The only method my kin would have had to track me was magic, and since the mages swathed me in spells, I was cut off from everyone and everything.
“They moved me to northern Scotland, sequestering me in a castle dungeon. The only person I saw for months was a comely maid who brought me a water bucket and occasional bits of food. Enough to keep me alive, but not much more.
“Since I had no other options, I began a slow process of luring her with magic. I saw in her eyes that she hated what was being done to me, but she was a very low-ranking mage and not able to pick and choose the tasks assigned to her.”
Sarai licked dry lips. “This mage, what was her name?”
“Karina. I never knew her last name. She wasn’t yet twenty, and she had a warm and lively spirit. Because I was lonely as well as desperate, my spell caught me up too. I came to crave the times when she’d stop for a while and talk with me.”
Niall took a ragged breath. Sarai steeled herself. The harsh places in this tale were nearly upon her.
“We had months, Karina and I, to get to know one another. I never meant to, but I fell in love with her, and her visits progressed from kisses to making love. My jaguar warned me, told me what a wretchedly bad idea she and I were, but I didn’t listen, and I should have. It would have saved me centuries of guilt.
“With her help, I hatched a plan to escape. She snuck me extra food to shore up my magic, and we picked a meeting place. Our intent was to run away together to a place no one knew us.” A slow, sad breath hissed from between his teeth.
“She left the door to my cell unlocked, and so I left the dungeon. I lay low for two days and then went to the abbey where we were supposed to meet.”
Niall’s voice broke, and he swallowed hard. “A priest was there. It was hallowed ground, so despite his hatred and distrust for all things magical, he couldn’t harm me.”
Sarai’s heart thudded hard. She had a feeling what Niall would say next, and pain for him arrowed into her.
“Karina had come to the abbey mortally wounded. The priest found her, hovering on the brink of death. Her father and brother knew I’d escaped, and it wasn’t hard for them to link her to me being gone. Justice in those days was swift and grim. They employed magic to make certain her death would be painful, and that she’d last long enough to tell someone her tale.
“You see, the mages wanted me to know my escape signed her death warrant. Poor, innocent Karina must have told them we loved one another and were planning to run away together.” He folded his hands in his lap so tightly, the knuckles turned white. “The priest took pity on me and showed me where he’d buried her in an unmarked grave outside the regular cemetery.”
“It was kind of him.”
“Not so much. She should have been cremated, just like us. Burying her sealed her in the in-between place where there is neither life nor death.” He shook his head. “I loved her, and I used her, and she died because of me. Her only sin was falling in love with me, a process I encouraged.”
He blew out a rough breath. “It was the last time I offered my heart to anyone. Until I met you.” He untwined his hands and reached for one of hers. She gripped it, unable to refuse him. The amulet throbbed warmly.
“I was wrong back in Golddust. I shouldn’t have discounted your feelings or your thoughts about Jeremiah. I am most truly sorry. I’ve never forgiven the mages for what they did to Karina, and it’s colored my interactions with them ever since. I should have given Jeremiah points for courage, but I was small-minded enough to aim for criticism instead.” He stopped to take a measured breath. “I fanned the flames with the other shifters. If I’d taken a different tack, things could have gone another way. And I shall see that they do. We will rescind our ban on working with our mage cousins and ask them to forgive us. I suspect they’ll understand.”
Sarai gathered her thoughts. “It wasn’t just Jeremiah. I saw how you do things. You and the men made a decision, and it was cast in stone. My father was much the same. Once he made up his mind, that was the end of it. Discussion closed. I never understood why my mother put up with him.”
Niall laced his fingers with hers. She should pull her hand back but couldn’t resist the feel of his skin against hers. “Your da, he wanted to keep you safe. You and the rest of his family. ’Tis the shifter way. We protect what’s near and dear to us.
“With all the television and movie spotlights on paranormal phenomena and creatures, it’s easy to get the idea people’s tolerance for us has improved. Trust me, it hasn’t. John Q. Citizen might love the idea of salting and burning bones on Supernatural or Jack the Ripper’s diary coming alive on Warehouse 13, but faced with the reality of what we are, they’ll run the other way.”
He scooted his chair close enough their knees touched. “I took my shot at explaining to the priest about how I needed to exhume Karina so I could cremate her.” Niall’s nostrils flared with hatred. “You should have seen how he looked at me, with the holy fire of God in his eyes. I was an abomination. The reason men like him chose the priesthood. I told him I was going to see Karina had proper last rites—mine not his—and he jumped me.”
“Bet that wasn’t much of a contest,” Sarai muttered.
“Nay, darling. It wasn’t. I meant to knock him out so he’d stay out of my way for a few hours, but I hit him a wee bit too hard… At least I saw Karina’s soul home to her ancestors, and then I fled. ’Twas a long journey back to Ireland since I didn’t trust using magic—didn’t want to draw attention to myself. By the time I showed up, the war was mostly over, and I joined my kin on the ship that brought us to the Americas.”
Sarai chewed her lower lip. He’d given her a perfect opening, but if she told him her secrets, that would bring them closer, make it that much harder for her to hold to her stance they were done.
“Do the right thing,” her wolf urged in its usual cryptic communication style.
The amulet sent a wave of affirmation into her breastbone.
Sarai rolled her eyes.
“What is it?” Niall drew his brows together. “Did my story disturb you?”
“Of course, but it’s not that. My wolf is doing its Monday morning quarterback routine, and that damned amulet is like a miniature MacLier herding me.”
Niall’s mouth twitched. “Just wait until you add the ring and bracelet.”
“Not sure I want to.” She blew out a breath. “Oh hell. I know about humans being appalled by the reality of what we are.”
“Oh? How might that be?”
She grinned crookedly. “I’m part of the generation that grew up watching Supernatural and Vampire Diaries and all those other shows about people like us. I thought they were cool, and that it was even cooler I had this gorgeous wolf as a bondmate. I was certain if I picked the right bunch of humans and shifted, they’d fawn all over me.”
Niall winced. “Och, you didn’t.”
“’Fraid I did. And not just once. When the first batch screamed and scrambled and shit themselves, I figured I’d picked badly. So I did it again. And again. By then, my wolf form was all over the Internet. Everyone was convinced it was some kind of sophisticated parlor trick.”
“Christ, darling. Your parents must have been devastated. And I’m shocked your wolf cooperated.”
“My wolf almost broke our bond over my pranks.” She winced at the memory. “Father and a bunch of the men blew through wads of magic wiping memories and computerized data bits. It was how I ended up with Stephan and Marie, who made it abundantly clear if I pulled any furt
her shenanigans, they’d mute my magic as punishment.”
“Did you?” He quirked a curious brow.
“No. By then, I was done. I’d run enough of an experiment to understand humans were a bunch of intolerant fuckers who talked a good game but weren’t worth my time.”
“I wasn’t far off the mark with my assessment, then, was I?”
“No, it was surprisingly accurate.” Sarai latched her gaze onto his, drawn by the warmth in his dark eyes. Warmth that could ignite into passion and silvery flecks—if she recanted from her stiff-necked attitude.
“For a Neanderthal?” The quirked brow edged up another notch.
Sarai couldn’t help herself. She laughed.
“Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”
“I guess it does. You’re impossible to stay angry with.”
He cast a knowing look her way. “Remember how I said reading about the war isn’t the same as living through it?” At her nod, he went on. “Well, reading about the mate bond isn’t the same as being linked to another shifter through its magic. You may have come up with some formulaic mumbo-jumbo to end our bond, but those things never, ever work.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been mated.”
“It’s a guess on my part, but the mate bond is sacred. It’s a gift from the goddess to ensure the continuation of our kind. I cannot believe such a thing would disappear without an unholy struggle.”
He got to his feet and drew her upright before folding his arms around her. She tucked her head into the hollow between his neck and shoulder feeling like she’d come home. He stroked her back with his big hands, leaving trails of heat in the wake of his fingertips.
“Thank you for not shutting the door on me.” His deep voice rumbled near her ear. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise to take better care of it—and of you.”
She tilted her head back. “I’ll hold you to it.” Rising on her tiptoes, she kissed him, but only once. Before their passion could gain a toehold, she squirmed out of his embrace. “I want you, but so far we’ve made love in the dirt behind a rotting building. Maybe this time, we could aim for something softer?”