by Bianca D’Arc
Well, if that wasn’t a description of Lance, Stone didn’t know what was. The old woman might actually have the gift of Sight as she believed.
“Your mother knew about my kind?” he asked, skirting the discussion of Lance for the moment.
He honestly hadn’t expected this sort of reception. In fact, he hadn’t intended to interact with Diana and her granny at all, but having been caught in the act, so to speak, he had little choice but to play out this scenario.
“Oh, yes. My mother served as priestess to a large flight of owls in Northern Europe in her day. She was friendly mainly with flight shifters, but she told me all about the other kinds of shapeshifters when I was growing up. She had hope I would follow in her footsteps, but as I reached maturity and didn’t develop any talent other than the clairvoyance, we both knew that path was not meant for me.”
“And you taught your granddaughter what your mother had taught you, even though she didn’t have the gift?” Stone inquired.
“My mother taught me first,” Diana put in, her hand on her grandmother’s shoulder in a show of support, or perhaps to offer comfort to the older lady.
“My daughter, Sophie, was more gifted than me, and my mother was still around while Sophie was young. Sophie learned a lot from her. Frankly, her power was more than I could handle, but it proved to me why my mother thought it was so important to pass on the knowledge in our line, even to those of us not as magically gifted. You see, we never know when a gift like my mother’s or my daughter’s will come along. Imagine how it would be for a witch to be born into a generation with no knowledge of what she was or the power she could wield.”
Stone thought about that for a moment while the old lady paused and realized the results wouldn’t be good. Such power could easily consume a person or cause harm to those around them. It had to be trained and controlled when it developed. Passing on the family heritage and the knowledge of Others was a good idea in this family, since the magic seemed to touch them so sporadically.
“As it is, with what little power we can command, we serve the Light. Where do you stand, my werewolf friend?” Hetty challenged him, a hard glint in her blue eyes.
“I, and my Pack, stand in the Lady’s Light,” he declared, proud in his heart that he and every single one of his men had been tested and proven their worth. They had fought and prevailed against evil when it had come for them, and they protected and followed the phoenix, whose flame burned with the pure Light of the Goddess Herself.
Hetty smiled. “I like the conviction in your voice when you say that, young man. Now, tell me. What is your name?”
“Stone, ma’am,” he supplied immediately, liking the old lady more with each passing moment.
“Stone? Is that a first name or a surname?” Hetty looked a bit scandalized by his lack of detail.
“Forgive me, ma’am. I’m Adam Stone, Alpha of the Desert Valley Pack.”
Both women wore identical raised-eyebrow expressions. Oh yeah, the family resemblance was strong with these two. His inner wolf was as amused by their response as his human half.
Hetty looked up at her granddaughter. “Your friend here is not just a werewolf, but the leader of the Pack.” After a moment of silent communication between the two, Hetty turned back to him. “Now, tell me, young man. Why did you seek my granddaughter out tonight?”
“She’s a puzzle, ma’am, and I wanted more information. I didn’t intend to be spotted, much less invited inside, or I would’ve arranged for some clothes.” He tilted his head and nodded downward toward the towel that was his only covering.
Normally, he didn’t give a damn about being naked. Most shifters accepted skin and fur in equal measure. But one didn’t just traipse into an elderly grandmother’s house—a human one, at that—swinging in the breeze. Arranging for proper clothing when meeting elders was a sign of respect and care that spoke a lot about a person. Stone’s mother had impressed upon him the need for good manners and respect for one’s elders.
“What puzzled you about my granddaughter, Alpha?” Hetty delved for answers that made Stone itch a bit, because he wasn’t sure exactly how to describe it—especially to the woman’s granny.
He looked around at the quaint furnishings in the condo to buy time, showing a bit of his discomfort. The furniture was functional and well cared for, but not exactly expensive. Judging by the car and now, the house, these women were just about getting by. Nothing frivolous or expensive for them. That made Stone’s inner wolf want to hunt and provide dinner for them. Protective instincts rose up in him that should have worried him a bit…but somehow, they didn’t. It felt right to be protective of this female and her granny. Odd, that, but there it was.
“I sensed magic around her, but I wasn’t sure what kind it was,” he told the old woman, prevaricating a bit. Honestly, Diana’s power—though tiny compared to Lance—felt almost the same. Burning. Pure. Intensely magical. Diana felt a bit the way Lance had before his transformation into the phoenix. “Tell me, are there any shifters in your family line, ma’am?”
Hetty’s eyes narrowed. “Her magic feels like shifter magic to you?”
Stone shrugged. “A bit. It’s somewhat familiar, but very muted. As if hidden. Maybe latent.”
Hetty’s gaze scrutinized him. A lesser man would probably be quaking before that inspection, but Stone was Alpha wolf hereabouts. He knew how to hold his own.
“Latent, you say?” Hetty looked up at her granddaughter. “I sometimes wish my own gift was stronger so I could have guided you better. It’s always possible you’re a late bloomer, sweetheart.”
“Or it could just be latent, like Mr. Stone said,” Diana put in with a sigh. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. What will be, will be. I gave up looking for fairies around every mushroom circle long ago.”
“Oh, dear.” Hetty took Diana’s hand in hers and patted it. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. I fear my frailty has made you far too practical. Your heart should still be filled with wonder and expectation at your age.”
Diana laughed and leaned down to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. There was obviously a lot of love between the two women, and Stone felt privileged to witness it. When Diana straightened, Hetty started working her way up out of the chair. Diana helped her until Hetty was standing, facing Stone.
“I’m going to leave you two to talk a bit. You didn’t come all this way to see me, I’m sure.” Hetty smiled at him, and her eyes twinkled.
“Ma’am,” Stone said, nodding respectfully as Hetty shuffled out of the room, leaning heavily on her cane.
And then, he had what he really wanted. He was alone with the mysterious and lovely Diana.
Chapter Six
Silence fell as soon as her grandmother left the room, and Diana was even more acutely aware that Stone was wearing nothing but one of her bath towels slung precariously low around his narrow hips. She had to stop herself from looking at his muscular legs and washboard abs, but what she’d seen already was drool-worthy.
For a man who could become a wolf at will, he had surprisingly little hair on his body, but the sexy line that arrowed lightly down beneath the top of the towel made her think scandalous thoughts. He had scars, too. More than a few. She wondered what kind of life he’d led that had brought about those puckered lines of various vintages. Some were clearly old and well-healed. Some were newer. One thing was certain. This man had seen a great deal of fighting in his lifetime.
She realized she was staring again, and shook herself out of it. This would never do. And the tiny smirk of amusement on his lips told her he’d caught her staring, too. Darn it.
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?” she offered, remembering her manners, even though she’d never had a mostly naked werewolf visitor in her home before.
“I don’t suppose you have any beer in the house,” Stone said, tilting his head toward the kitchen in a questioning way.
“Not right now,” she replied.
He snort
ed, laughing at her response. “Not ever, I suspect.”
She stood up straighter, slightly offended by his assumption, though she wasn’t sure why. “Occasionally, Oma likes to cook Dutch food, and there are certain dishes that are complemented by a cold beer. Imported from the old country, of course.” Great. Now, she sounded like a snob.
“Which old country is that? Germany?”
“Please. Oma’s a van not a von. She was born in the Netherlands, but the family came here after World War Two.” What in the world was she talking about? She had a mostly naked werewolf in her house, for heaven’s sake! Why was she talking about such mundane matters? “Why did you really come here tonight, Mr. Stone?”
“It’s just Stone. Or I guess you could call me Adam, but nobody else does. Not anymore. Not since my mama passed on.” Was that vulnerability that flashed through his gaze for a moment, or was she reading things into his expression that she wanted to see? Or, worse yet, was he somehow subtly manipulating her?
No. She refused to think ill of the man just because she was afraid. Exactly what she was afraid of, she wasn’t quite sure, but her emotions had been spinning out of control lately, and she’d been starting at shadows for weeks now. Fear was almost her constant companion, but she wouldn’t let it get the best of her. Not if she could help it.
“I spent a lot of time in the military,” he went on to explain. “Getting called by your last name is pretty standard in that environment, and the guys I hang out with all have similar backgrounds, so the pattern held, even though we’re strictly civilians now.”
“I didn’t know that shifters served in the military,” she said inanely, trying to buy some time to calm her thoughts and control her emotions.
“A lot of us find channeling our aggression to work for Uncle Sam a productive way to spend the years when we’re learning control over our human sides. In general, we’re natural born fighters, so it’s good to learn discipline, and the military excels at that.”
“But does anyone in the government or the higher ranks know about…what you are?” Now, she was just intrigued.
She hadn’t expected their conversation to go in this direction but was fascinated by the implications. Did certain humans know about shifters and use their abilities in secret to defend the country? Or was shifter culture working behind the scenes, existing within the framework of the human military, without anybody being the wiser?
“There’s one very high-ranking fellow who knows about us and uses our skills to their greatest potential, but I doubt anybody else knows what’s really going on. Not any regular folk, at any rate. This man who knows—he’s magical, too. Some sort of elemental power, from all accounts.”
“Wow.” Diana could’ve kicked herself when the word left her lips. Way to sound intelligent, Di. Really. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, that’s very interesting, but you still haven’t answered my question. Why did you come here?”
He paused, regarding her with narrowed eyes for a moment before responding. “I wanted to see you again.”
Hmm. She thought about that, her heart beginning a little pitter-patter of excitement at the idea that they sexy man might actually be interested in her as a woman. Or, maybe, he was just intrigued by the puzzle of her latent power. The momentary thrill dissipated. Why in the world would this god-like being be interested in plain old her? Yeah, right.
“You’re going to see me tomorrow,” she reminded him, trying to sound casual.
“I didn’t want to wait.” He took a step forward, closing the distance between them slowly.
Why was he coming closer? She was confused as that little feeling of exhilaration returned, hopeful, but afraid to hope. Maybe he was just restless, but it sure looked like he was…sort of…stalking her.
His gaze never left hers as he moved another step closer.
“You intrigue me, Diana,” he said, his voice a low growl that did funny things to her insides. “Man and wolf, I want to know more about you.” He took another step closer. “I thought maybe, I could sniff around a bit outside your home to learn more. I never expected to be invited in, but now that I’m here…” He was so close now, she could feel the intense heat of him, just inches away from her.
His scent was compelling. Somehow familiar, and very attractive. Hot-blooded, sexy man laced with desert sage and a faint hint of motor oil. A working man’s scent that was both honest and incredibly erotic.
“Do you feel it? This magic that sparks between us when we’re near like this?” he asked, sliding one big hand around her waist and pulling her unresisting body closer one inch at a time.
She felt something. Tickling her senses. Something powerful. Something that she felt, in her heart, could be intensely beautiful if she knew how to see it. Lost for words, she nodded her agreement, moving closer as he drew her, wanting to know his touch, his kiss, like she’d never wanted any man before.
It was a physical ache that she sensed only Stone could cure. She went willingly into his embrace, her hands landing on his hard-muscled chest and then exploring. His skin was a tactile delight, and he seemed to like the way she stroked up to his shoulders, twining her hands around his neck as his head descended to touch his lips to hers.
She was lost completely in his kiss, but she felt something break open inside her, as if some power was acknowledging Stone’s presence and accepting the passion between them with a welcoming sigh. She felt empowered by his kiss, emboldened by his embrace. She felt womanly, and for the first time in her life, she felt like the mythical huntress she’d been named for.
Diana. Goddess of the hunt, the moon, and nature in the Roman pantheon. Said to have power over animals. She wondered if that included power over sexy werewolves who kissed like Eros himself. She was mixing up her Greeks and Romans, but she didn’t care at the moment.
The world ceased to exist, except for the man who held her so securely in his arms and the kiss that seemed to last for eternity but ended much too soon. She felt so safe in Stone’s embrace. She didn’t want it to end, but he drew back, releasing her lips to gaze down into her eyes.
“Tell me you felt that,” he whispered. “There’s magic between us, woman, and I want more.”
He held her for a long moment, and she wondered if he was going to take that more right then and there. She wouldn’t have minded, except for the fact that her grandmother was in the house and could come back into the living room at any moment.
That thought sobered her a little bit, so that when Stone moved farther away, separating their bodies by slow increments, she was steadier on her feet. She probably would’ve fallen on her nose if he had let her go right away, and the sexy smile on his face said he probably knew that and was pleased by her reaction to his kiss.
“Have lunch with me tomorrow,” he invited, that sexy smile still firmly in place. “I’ll bring your car back around noon, and we can go someplace nice for a meal. What do you say?”
A lunch date? The werewolf who had just kissed her senseless wanted to do something as tame as take her to lunch? Hmm. Maybe he was giving her a little space to get used to him before he went after that more he had talked about. She wasn’t sure whether to wring her hands in frustration—because she wanted more too, dammit—or thank him for being a gentleman and giving her time to get to know him before she gave in to impulse and jumped his bones in a most uncharacteristic—until now—display of sexual aggression.
But there was her grandmother to consider. She’d have to arrange things to make this happen. Then again, Oma was forever encouraging her to go out and do things on her own. She was well aware that Diana’s social life suffered.
“Okay. Lunch.” Wow. She’d just agreed to have lunch with the biggest, baddest-assed werewolf ever. Take that, fear! You ain’t the boss of me.
Trailing one hand down her arm, he took hold of her hand as they walked slowly back toward the kitchen and the back door of the condo. Damn. He was going to leave. She wished she could drag him to her
room and convince him to drop the gentlemanly impulses, but Oma would be scandalized. The walls in this condo were pretty thin, and sound carried in the dark hours of the night. Unfortunately.
When he stopped near the closed door to the small back porch, he turned to her, drawing her into his arms loosely, this time. His big hands were on her hips, and her hands went to his shoulders, leaving space between them but allowing his warmth to soothe her. He was such a confident man. She liked the way he held himself, sure of his place in the world. She needed a bit of that mojo.
Maybe…just maybe…he could help her figure some of that out. If they got to know each other better, that is. Some of his self-assurance might just rub off on her a bit. Heaven knew, she could use it. Especially now, when everything seemed to be getting so weird in her life with these strange yearnings for the heat of the desert and dreams of flying into the sun. She had no idea what it all meant.
“I’ll come for you at noon,” he told her softly, raising one hand to brush his fingers gently over her cheek. “Wear something sexy. Heels, if you have them. I want to take you someplace special.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” As the words left her mouth, she knew she would think of nothing else every waking moment until she saw him again. What a rush! She felt giddy with excitement in a way she hadn’t experienced since she was a kid.
He leaned in and kissed her gently, one finger under her chin. Could he feel her trembling? She wanted so much more but knew it was impossible just at the moment. He clearly understood the limitations of the situation, which was totally sweet. Just like his lingering kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said in that soft, growly voice that did shivery things to her insides. “Lock this door behind me.”
He opened the back door quietly and padded onto the private porch. He was down the steps and in the darkness beyond the porch in another heartbeat. The man could move both swiftly and silently when he wanted to. She thought he was gone, until out of the darkness, her bath towel landed over the porch rail, and she could just hear him whisper.