by Kristie Cook
Claire realized she needed to make the decision for them. With a flick of a finger, she magically tossed the biggest present under the tree through the front window. The shattering glass silenced the parents’ fight. Claire sent more presents outside, then made them pile into the bed of the pickup.
“See! Even the presents want to get the hell out of here,” the mother exclaimed, and Claire nearly burst into laughter at the ridiculous statement.
“Let’s go, Daddy. Please,” the little girl begged, and she ran outside.
The rest of the family followed at the same time Claire caused the falling snow to slow. She couldn’t hold the spell for long—this storm was too strong for her powers—but hopefully long enough to convince the father it was safe. He glanced up at the sky.
“The blizzard has slowed,” the mother said as she scooped up the little girl into her arms. “Let’s go while we can!”
“I don’t know,” the man said as he contemplated the heavy clouds in the dark sky above.
Claire had the interior of the house banging and clattering as though it belonged in a B-rated horror movie, but she thought she might have to go to her last resort—throw embers out of the fireplace, lighting the cabin up. She’d rather not, though, because she couldn’t magically fix the destruction a fire would cause, not when the only remains would be ashes. And if the flames grew out of control, her whole purpose for driving the family away would be for nothing.
The family, clad only in pajamas and robes, huddled in the space between the cabin’s front door and their truck while the father still stared at the sky. The boy, about seven years old, tugged on his dad’s sleeve and pointed toward the woods behind the cabin. The air in Claire’s lungs became trapped as she thought she’d been caught. But all eight eyeballs stared beyond her, doubled in size. Their mouths fell open, and their fragile bodies quaked.
Claire spun around, ready to fight whatever had them more frightened than the inexplicable happenings inside their cabin.
A monster bounded out of the trees and down the hill, all teeth, claws, and glowing red eyes. No, not really a monster. Claire let out a bit of air. Just a grizzly bear that roared at the family as it barreled toward them. The father wrapped an arm around the boy and lifted him off the ground. Without any more debate, the parents ran for the truck and practically threw their children in the backseat before jumping inside the front. The engine cranked over, and the truck’s back tires threw snow ten feet into the air as the father tried to get them out of there as fast as possible. With a fishtail of its back end, the truck disappeared around the corner, and the cabin fell silent as Claire stood completely still.
The bear turned on her. Its jaw opened wide, baring all of its teeth, including fangs longer than Claire’s fingers. It roared again as it ambled toward the warlock. She studied it for a long moment, then relaxed and nodded as she released the trapped air from her lungs.
“Thank you for that,” she said.
The bear growled in response. Its eyes glowed brighter. He dared to challenge her! Claire lifted a brow while settling her hands on her hips. She glared back at the beast.
“You know I’ll win,” she said. “You’re no match for a warlock.”
The bear growled again, but then its whole form began to shrink.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” the man who’d replaced the bear snapped at the warlock.
Chapter 3
Claire couldn’t help staring. Standing way over six feet tall, with black, disheveled hair, dark eyes, tanned skin that stood out against the snow, and a hard body that was all mounds of muscle and no fat, the man was a glorious beast. Every bit of him was big and powerful. Intimidating. Even the not-a-bit of him that hung between his legs.
Claire blinked, then flicked her hands, covering the were-bear with pants. He strode toward her, the amazing muscles of his upper body rolling and rippling, and she was glad she hadn’t given him a shirt.
“You ruined my dinner,” he growled, his eyes still glowing an angry red.
Claire slowly licked her lips before sticking the bottom one out.
“Sorry,” she said as she looked up at him through her lashes.
“Sorry?” he barked.
She shrugged. “I need a place to stay during this storm.”
Saying the word reminded her of her spell, and she broke it. The snow began falling harder again, and the wind whipped at them.
The man narrowed his eyes. “You could have done anything. Why here? You ruined my plans.”
Claire cocked her head. “And what plans were those?”
“Do my Random Act of Evil, maybe eat someone for dinner, then hibernate in their cabin for a few days.”
“Well, sorry. The cabin is mine now.” Without touching the knob, Claire opened the door, and turning her back on the Were, she stepped inside.
“You mages are unbelievable!” the Were snarled. “Especially you cocky-ass warlocks. I don’t care how hot you are, you’re all the same inside. You think you can do whatever you want to whoever you want, even your own kind.”
Claire spun, ready to show him exactly what she could do to him and to remind him that he was not her kind. Although she knew what he meant—they were both Daemoni—her mother and grandmother had ingrained in her that mages were nothing like the Weres. Warlocks, especially, were far better than the beasts. But it was this thought that stopped her. She’d wanted to do whatever she felt like doing. She’d wanted to break the rules that shouldn’t exist. And she definitely wanted to know what this man felt like under her ... inside her. Had he really called her hot?
A slew of sexy thoughts ran through her mind, and following through on them would be the ultimate crime in her mother and grandmother’s eyes. They didn’t care about her—only about their bloodline. In fact, if it were up to them, Claire would have been married to Dingle-Barry when she was fifteen years old. He had the right blood and upbringing. They’d throw an absolute Daemoni fit if she did anything more than kick this Were out into the cold. And if she slept with him ...?
A grin spread across Claire’s face as she once again eyed the beautiful man before her. “I can’t offer you dinner, but you’re more than welcome to come inside.”
His gaze raked over the warlock, and as if his eyes requested it, her coat magically fell open, exposing the tight black sweater that stretched across her not-so-little breasts. Her legs quivered when his eyes slowed over the swell of her hips and stopped at her thighs. She was tiny. He was not. Thoughts of all the ways he could take her soared through Claire’s mind. She bit her lip as she waited for his response.
The next growl that came out of the man had changed. This one was full of lust, not threat.
When he didn’t immediately stride inside and sweep her into his arms, Claire removed her coat, turned her back, and swayed her hips as she entered the cabin more deeply. As she’d hoped, he followed her inside, closing the door behind him.
“Claire,” the warlock said over her shoulder to introduce herself.
“Tony,” the were-bear replied as they entered the kitchen.
Claire flicked her hand to repair the little bit of damage she’d caused while running off the Normans, then she glanced around the kitchen. Hot homemade cocoa still steamed from a pot on the two-burner stove, and the supplies to cook popcorn over the fire sat on the counter. Claire waved a finger toward the refrigerator, and the door opened.
“Help yourself,” she said. “Not any Norman meat in there, of course, but surely you can find something to your liking.”
Tony leaned over to poke his head into the tiny fridge, his large frame nearly blocking out the light inside. Claire stared unabashedly until he straightened up with nothing in his hands, although plenty of food sat on the shelves.
“I’m not hungry for anything in there,” he said as he turned to face her. The weight of his full gaze fell on her, and his black eyes smoldered, making her weak. She’d never felt such magnetic attraction to a man before, nor su
ch sexual tension hanging in the air. But still he remained on the other side of the kitchen. Claire turned her back on him and poured herself some cocoa. She made him a mug, too, and tossed some mini-marshmallows on top, then she gathered the pan, oil, and popcorn and went into the family room.
The small room could only hold a single sofa and a wooden coffee table that sat in front of the fireplace, stockings hanging from the mantle. In the corner, a Christmas tree still twinkled with little colorful lights, although the presents were all gone. A bearskin rug lay on the wooden planked floor between the table and hearth. With a silent spell, Claire turned the rug into what appeared to be a simple shag before Tony could see it. She didn’t want to know what his reaction would be—for all she knew, that could have been one of his relatives. And she certainly didn’t want to ruin tonight’s prospects because of a stupid rug.
She knelt in front of the fireplace, poured the oil into the pan followed by the popcorn kernels, and then arranged the pot on the pile of burning logs. Tony came in and set their mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table, and sat on the sofa, watching her intently.
“This ... drinking cocoa, making popcorn on a fire, you ... this is not exactly how I expected to spend this evening,” he said.
Claire chuckled. “No, me neither. But what can you do when there’s a blizzard like the one outside?”
“Keep warm any way you can.” His voice held all kinds of promises that sent Claire’s heart into a gallop. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, as she leaned into the fire to give the pot a shake. She could feel Tony’s eyes on her ass. “But you have all kinds of ways to stay warm, so why are you here?”
The warlock leaned back on her heels and stared at the fire. “I’m exactly where I want to be tonight, so why bother using magic to be somewhere else?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “And I could say the same about you. Surely you have a home or even a den and your own fur coat to keep you warm.”
“My home’s far away.” He paused, then added, “And I’m exactly where I want to be tonight, too.”
With a small smile playing on her lips, Claire pulled the pot off the fire and placed it on the table, its lid sitting sideways as big puffs of white popcorn pushed it upwards. She stood and grabbed the blanket off the arm of the sofa, sat down next to Tony—but not too close—and wrapped the fuzzy cover over her before picking up a handful of popcorn and her mug. When she sat back, an arm landed heavily on the back of the couch behind her. She pretended not to notice and ate her snack.
Wind howled outside, and the snowdrifts grew larger, blocking out the bottom panes of the window next to the fireplace. Claire snuggled deeper under her blanket and sipped on her cocoa while watching the flames dance in the hearth. She didn’t even mind the Christmas tree, and Tony didn’t seem to either. Sitting here as they did in this cozy little cabin while the snow fell outside and the fire popped and sizzled almost made her understand Normans and their love for this holiday. There certainly was a sense of peace that she could appreciate.
The arm behind her fell across her shoulder. When she didn’t wiggle away, Tony pulled her closer.
“I guess I was wrong about all warlocks,” he murmured, his mouth very close to her ear. “You’re definitely not like the others.”
Claire suppressed a chuckle. If he only knew exactly why she’d invited him inside with her. She may not be exactly like the others—like her mother and grandmother and everyone else so concerned about their bloodlines that they never had any fun—but that didn’t make her any better. In fact, her whole goal tonight was to be bad. Bad in every way that felt good. Sitting here so warm and contentedly definitely felt good, but she had much more in mind.
At the same moment she twisted in her seat to face Tony, he turned toward her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his warm breath fell on her lips. She looked into his deep, black eyes and saw the same primal need in him that she felt in herself. He lifted a large hand to the side of her head, which she tilted into his palm as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. She’d never imagined a Were being so gentle, especially one as big and feral as a bear. She wasn’t sure she wanted gentle.
Their gazes locked, he leaned in. She licked her lips, readying them, then closed her eyes and opened her mouth slightly. Her heart beat once as she waited. Again. She was about to open her eyes when she felt him. But right when his lips touched hers, two pops sounded in the room.
Claire’s eyes flew open to find the new arrivals standing in front of the door to the kitchen. Tony jumped off the couch with surprise, fur already rising on his arms and his teeth elongating. He crouched for the change as he stared at the two women, both dressed in long, wool cloaks and knee-high boots.
“Shit,” Claire swore under her breath. “Why didn’t I think to shield and cloak the place?”
“Because you’re not letting your brain do your thinking,” said the younger of the two women.
Claire clenched her jaw against the voice that sounded to her like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Hello, Mother,” she said through gritted teeth. “Grandmother.”
Chapter 4
Tony shot up straight, and his gaze flew to Claire then back to the new arrivals.
“What do you think you’re doing with this beast?” Claire’s grandmother demanded, her haughty voice as grating as her daughter’s.
Although he’d gained control over the change, Tony let out a growl. Claire’s grandmother simply turned her piercing blue eyes on him and lifted a silver eyebrow. One side of his lip lifted, but he repressed the snarl. Claire stepped in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her gaze bouncing between the other two warlocks. As usual, their hair was pulled back into tight buns, but little curls sprang free at their temples. Her mother’s was still the same brown as Claire’s with only a few streaks of gray, but her grandmother’s was as silver as a teapot. Both were petite, as small as Claire, but much more intimidating.
“I can ask you the same thing,” her mother said, placing a hand on her hip. She glanced around the tiny cabin and sniffed with disgust. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here but your absence tonight was noticed. You disgrace the entire family for this?”
Her mother’s glare landed on Tony with the last word. Claire swallowed, and her chest tightened. She didn’t know how to respond. As much as she hated it, guilt and shame began to push away the contempt that had been driving her all day long. That had given her more courage—and more freedom—than she’d ever experienced before. And it could have led to many regrets, regrets worse than the ones she already had.
“Let’s go, Claire,” her mother said. “Come home with us before you make an unimaginable mistake.”
Guilt may have been trying to slide its way in, but the back of Claire’s neck prickled at this comment. Her eyes slid over her shoulder to Tony, who studied her closely, waiting to see what she would do. She remembered the welcome feeling in her stomach when his breath had mixed with hers. The tingle along her skin when he touched her. The way his eyes made her thighs clench. Was being with him really an unimaginable mistake?
“Claire,” her grandmother snapped. “Listen to your mother. It’s time to go, child. Do as you’re told.”
The younger warlock’s head tilted as that prickle on her neck became more like a needle in a nerve. Her nostrils flared. She stood to her full height and stared directly into her grandmother’s eyes.
“I am not a child,” she seethed. “And I will do what I want to do.”
“Do you know how childish that sounds?” her mother demanded.
Claire squared her shoulders and took a step toward her mother. She turned her full gaze on her. “No, Mother, it doesn’t, because I am making a decision for myself for once. I will suffer the consequences, but staying here is my choice.”
Her mother rolled her eyes and held her hand out. “That’s enough. We can discuss this later. Right now, people are waiting for you.”
&
nbsp; “Like who, Mother? Nobody cares what I’m doing right now.”
“Like your friends Inga and Kath.”
Claire snorted. “They’re so wrapped up in having their own fun, they don’t give a shit what I’m doing. They’re doing what they want to do, and so am I, for once. Besides, they’re more than happy to keep me far away from you.”
Claire’s mother’s eyes narrowed as her gaze cut to Tony then back to Claire, and her jaw clenched. “At least do what you want with your own kind. Think of Barry!”
Tony let out a huff in the corner. Claire gave a slight shake of her head, her only way at the moment to tell him that he had no need to worry about Barry. Then she let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Barry is your kind, Mother! Cruel, controlling, and a pompous ass. Since you like him so much, why don’t you hook up with him?” She took another step toward her mother and grandmother. “Better yet, make a threesome of it. I don’t really give a shit. All I care about right now is that you both get the hell out of here and leave me alone once and for all. Stop trying to run my life!”
She lifted her hand toward them, and the other warlocks saw the threat. Their eyes grew wide as they stared at Claire daring to challenge them to a fight.
“Now go.” Claire pointed her finger toward the front door, which swung open at her silent command. Wind gusted and blew snow inside.
“Claire—” her grandmother started.
“I said to GO!” The youngest warlock bellowed. Her hand began to glow a bright orange as she prepared to launch a blast of magic at them. “If you don’t flash this very second, I’ll send you out myself.”