by Cait Miller
Cameron collapsed beside her, exhausted and fought to catch his breath. He disposed of the condom, then pulled Jayne into his arms and flipped the edge of the duvet over them. The lightheadedness he had felt earlier returned with a vengeance now that his body was sated. He recognized it now as a side effect from starting the Ceangal and knew his body needed to rest. It was the last thing he wanted to do. His fìorcèile was snug against his side, her head resting beneath his collarbone. She was playing with the hair on his chest, following its trail down to his abdomen. He wanted to pull her over him, explore her without the urgency of their first mating. But his body felt heavy and even as he tried to fight it, it worsened until it was all he could do to lift his arm to caress her. As he opened his mouth to explain, sleep stole over him.
Lying in his arms, Jayne felt the moment his body relaxed into slumber and smiled. It seemed that as well as finding out what besides anger deepened his Scottish accent, she had cured his insomnia. His loose-limbed sprawl took up a good portion of the huge bed. One corner of the sheet covered his sex, leaving the rest of his body gloriously displayed, his golden coloring contrasting sharply with the royal blue bedding. She ran her hand over the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, feeling his broad chest rising and falling as he breathed, and toyed with the fine mat of dark blond hair there. Petting him like the big cat he claimed he would become. She had been right, he definitely had a six-pack. His body was completely relaxed and she could still trace its shape. Her brow creased in a frown as she realized she could also trace his ribs.
How far would he have let himself go before giving in? Given his stubbornness and his past history, she thought he might well have gone all the way. Oh, she knew Mary would have done everything in her power to help him and Jayne suspected the woman had more training than she let on but there was only so much you could do for someone who wouldn’t—or couldn’t—eat. The thought of him locked away in this house slowly fading away was unbearable. Thankfully if what he had said was true it wouldn’t be an issue anymore.
She didn’t feel any different physically, didn’t even know if she should. It was hard to believe her whole life had changed in these last couple of hours. And it had. Even if nothing came of this “Ceangal”, she still believed she and this beautiful, complicated man had a connection unlike anything she had ever felt. Despite her easy acceptance, it was a fantastic story. Part of her was still waiting for someone to jump out and yell “Surprise!” But even if they did—and that would be terribly disappointing—she was exactly where she wanted to be. This was the magic she had been trying to find all of her life.
* * * * *
Outside in the woods Henry was praying for some magic of his own. The snow had stopped and as the sky had cleared the temperature had dropped. A bright moon lit the night, turning the snow a luminous blue-white and making the shadows under the trees where he lay thicker. He had a very bad feeling about this. This was never intended to be a surveillance mission. He had expected to go in grab the targets and go. But suddenly a man who hadn’t had a visitor in months had a houseful and he was stuck out here freezing his bollocks off.
It wasn’t his turn to be on watch but he dared not take his eyes off the house. The lights had gone off one by one until only one window was lit by a soft glow. Henry had watched through the conservatory windows as the people in the house had gathered in the kitchen. He would have sold his soul for a long-range listening device or at least some lip-reading abilities, especially when Murray and the woman had been alone together. Now the couple was in the bedroom and had been for hours. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. He hadn’t seen the telltale flare of heat yet on the thermal imager that would signify that either of them had changed and all he could do was wait.
* * * * *
At some point during her musings, Jayne joined Cameron in sleep. When she opened her eyes, the window was letting in gray morning light. She was too warm. Cameron lay curled on his side facing her, heat radiated from him like a furnace and he had thrown the duvet off so that she lay under a double layer. His chin was covered in a heavy growth of stubble and his brows were lowered in a ferocious frown, though he continued to snore gently. She smiled, remembering how she had decided that it must be his default expression. It seemed he even did it in his sleep. Gently she eased out from under the covers and out of the bed, trying not to disturb him. She wanted to shower before he woke then maybe get a breakfast tray that they could share in bed. If the man hadn’t enjoyed a meal in two years, she was going to make this first one memorable.
Since the water felt heavenly, she lingered a few minutes longer than she had planned. She had whisker burn on her jaw and on her breasts. Her skin felt sensitive in the way that only came after making love. As though every nerve ending was awake and anticipating the next caress. Cameron was a big man in every way and she felt deliciously achy between her legs as a result. Jayne shivered as she passed the cloth over her delicate flesh. She couldn’t wait to feel him there again. Maybe they could wait for breakfast. She stepped out of the shower and dried herself quickly, wrapping her body in a towel. She walked back into the bedroom, mind already filled with him and with possibilities.
“Eeep!” Except this one.
Pacing up and down in front of the bed was a lion. A big, huge, enormous lion. His fur was the same rich gold as Cam’s hair, his mane and the tuft on his twitching tail a few shades darker. Powerful muscles slid beneath his hide as he walked on paws the size of dinner plates. Jayne clutched the towel tighter to her breasts and realized she never had asked what kind of cat Cameron was.
No need to now.
The cat had frozen at her exclamation and now stood staring at her with familiar amber-colored eyes. Was he even in there? Was he in control? Did he recognize her or would the lion just see her as prey and attack her? All good questions, Jayne, but a bit late now! She tried to push it away but fear crept in insidiously. He moved toward her and she took an involuntary step back. Regretting it instantly when he turned and bounded from the room.
“Cameron! Wait!”
She raced after him, nearly running headlong into Jonathon and Ciaran on the first-floor landing. She skidded to a halt and looked around but there was no sign of Cam.
“Which way did he go?”
Jonathon gaped at her and pointed down the stairs wordlessly before training his eyes somewhere over her left shoulder. Ciaran gave her a lopsided grin, brown eyes twinkling as they wandered the length of her body.
“Jayne, my darlin’, that’s a very becoming outfit.”
Jayne looked down at herself and felt her cheeks going scarlet as she realized she was still only wearing a towel. A towel that was feeling smaller by the minute. Hell.
Ciaran cocked an eyebrow at her, still grinning. “What’s up, love, cat got yer ton—Oof!” The force of Jonathon’s elbow made him double over. “Now that was uncalled for, mate, I was only asking the lass a simple question.”
“Excuse me.” She gathered together the shreds of her dignity—a difficult thing when you had a draft blowing on your bare backside—and went back upstairs to dress.
By the time she walked into the kitchen, Jayne was fully clothed. Wet hair tied back in a ponytail, dignity more or less intact. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been that embarrassed. If the guys had any heart, they would pretend she hadn’t stood in front of them almost naked. That way she could just forget it had ever happened.
“You look a bit warmer this time, love.”
Or not.
Ciaran grinned wickedly at her from his seat at the table. There was a pot of tea in front of him and a cup at his hand. The glass expanse behind him displayed a scene straight out of a Christmas card. The snow had stopped finally, leaving behind a smooth white expanse. It stretched back from the patio at the kitchen door all the way down to the tree line and coated the pine trees in a heavy blanket. Jayne longed to explore it but first, she had to set things straight with he
r new…what? Fiancé? Husband? Mate?
“Where’s Cameron?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Come on, Ciaran, I know it’s a big house but it’s not that big and he’s a bit hard to miss at the moment.”
His grin faded. “Give him some time, Jayne, he’s got a lot to deal with.”
“He’s got a lot to deal with?”
“Aside from the fact that we have someone out there who tried to kidnap you two just a few days ago and findin’ out Nick could still be alive. Now he has to deal with the whole Ceangal issue. You don’t understand how big that is. When his father died, Cameron swore he would never take a mate and now he’s disregarded everything he believes and done just that. I assume that this morning was the first time he shifted?” He paused for her nod of confirmation. “Then it’s the first time he’s shifted since he was sixteen and even then it only happened once. That’s a lot…and before you say a word, I know you have a lot to deal with too but unlike women,” he smiled at her, “who like to share all their problems, we men prefer beer and solitude. Not necessarily in that order.”
“What order?” Jonathon ambled through the kitchen door, carrying a large, intriguingly familiar-looking, brown paper-wrapped package.
“Beer and solitude, your lordship,” Ciaran replied.
“Ah, the finer things in life. Just add a good computer game in there and you have a happy man.”
Jayne smiled at him. “I thought you would say football.”
“No! You need company for that.”
He sat the package on the table and Jayne’s fingers itched to open it. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I suspect so, Cam asked us to pick them up for you on the way.”
Her heart gave a foolish little flutter and she eagerly tore off the brown paper, smiling when she saw the five canvases and a large sketch pad. He seemed to be determined that she go back to her art. It had been so long. Maybe later she would try some sketching. She looked at the two men watching her, lord knows there was certainly plenty of inspiration around here.
“Thank you.”
Jonathon shrugged good-naturedly. “Don’t thank us, we were only doing as we were asked. What were you two talking about so intently when I came in?”
“Now, Jon, mate, how many times do I have to tell you what curiosity did to the cat?”
“Very funny, Ciaran. Chase any cars lately?”
Jayne listened to the two men with half an ear. Maybe Ciaran was right and she should let Cameron have his space. Not too much though, she wanted to make sure he knew she was okay with the whole lion thing. She did have one pressing question though. It had occurred to her when she was getting dressed. She’d rather ask Cam but since he was hiding…
“Guys, when do I change into a cat?”
The two men fell abruptly silent.
“I mean, Cameron told me I would but he didn’t go into any detail last night before we were…sidetracked.” She felt her face heat. “Should I be watching out for unusual hair growth and cravings for raw meat?”
Ciaran raised his eyebrows and looked at Jonathon. “Think you’re the best person to answer that one, your lordship, it’s not my area of expertise.”
“That’s an unflattering description of my future.” Jonathon shook his head and grinned, his green-gold eyes twinkling. “You won’t change yet, Cameron hasn’t completed the Ceangal.” He held up a hand to still her questions. “He started it when he touched you and merged your energies.”
“And now he starts to change into a cat, a very big cat.”
“Right. Now he has a few days, perhaps as long as a week, to complete the bond by introducing the shapeshifter genes into your system.”
Jayne frowned at him. “Basically, you mean, he has to infect me.” She felt her cheeks color. “Is this like some kind of magical sexually transmitted disease?”
Ciaran roared with laughter and Jonathon glared at him. “No. It’s a blood exchange. It only takes a tiny amount and it doesn’t matter how it’s done, most of us prefer old-fashioned way though. Less clinical. Just prick your partner’s finger and kiss it better and then let them do the same.”
“You mean drink it?” He nodded and watched her warily. “Wow…shades of Dracula.” She paused, considering it. “Okay, I can handle that. Thanks, Jon.”
She gathered up the canvases and sketch pad and stood to leave, smiling at their surprised expressions. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me! That he’d risk himself like that. If you should see Cameron, tell him he has an hour and then I’m coming after him, no matter how many legs he’s standing on.”
* * * * *
From between the slats of the blinds, the professor watched the girl get into her compact white car, such a little brown mouse. He sneered as he watched her drive off. He had thought she would have more promise, especially after the loss of her parents had given him control of her. The man standing behind him shuffled his feet uncomfortably and he turned to face him.
“Is everything prepared?” He did not like this disruption to his normal routine but it was a necessary evil, he would reap the benefits of it in the end.
“They’re getting him ready now, sir. Should I have security follow her?”
“No, let her go. She’s not going far.”
Such a shame, she was entirely her father’s daughter. Things could have been accomplished so much more easily if she had been a little more…flexible. But he had known her morals would prevail. Had, in fact, counted on it.
He still had plans for his niece.
Chapter Ten
Cameron groaned and lay on Chris’ bedroom floor, shuddering as the remnants of pain from the transformation ebbed away. His friend draped a towel over his body and crouched at his side, setting a glass of water on the floor.
“Those shifts really are a bitch before you do the blood exchange, aren’t they?”
He laughed shakily and tried to take stock of his body. His senses, though they had already been acute, had improved even more. Everything was sharper, clearer. “That’s an understatement, I feel like I’ve been set on fire and then turned inside out. Twice.”
Cameron took the offered hand and let Chris help him sit up, towel draped over his lap. He pushed sweat-dampened hair out of his face and downed the glass of water. He had spent just over two hours in one of the first-floor parlors avoiding Jayne. Fighting against the cat’s determination to go to his mate had been more difficult than he had expected. At first, Jayne’s fear had been enough to give him the strength to run from her but that had only lasted so long. The cat’s natural instinct was to pursue, not flee, and the battle between the cat’s desires and his own will had left him exhausted. It had been all he could do to stay in the room, only daring to move next door to the sanctuary of Chris’ bedroom when he felt the heat of the change coming again. He was lucky Chris had left his door ajar, he had just made it inside when the pain had swept through him.
“So, you decided to take the plunge. Congratulations.” Chris got to his feet and started opening drawers. He tossed a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants to him.
“Dinnae congratulate me yet, she freaked out when she saw the cat.”
Chris looked at him, brows raised in surprise. “She freaked out?”
“Well, okay,” he admitted grudgingly. “She didnae freak out exactly, but she was afraid of me, Chris, I felt it.”
“Hell, Cam, you have to give her a chance to get used to the idea…yourself too.”
“Aye, mebbe.” He climbed shakily to his feet and immediately felt a little disorientated at being so high above the ground again. Chris watched him silently as he leaned against the bed and pulled on the borrowed clothes. “I need to check my e-mail. Thanks, man.”
“No problem, just don’t leave it too long, Cam.”
Cameron laughed softly. “Not very long ago, I said something very similar to Jack, only I wisnae so polite.”
Chris grinned, displaying his elongated canines and op
ened the door for him. “Karma bites you on the ass, eh, my friend?”
He stopped by his bedroom to shower and dress and managed to get to his office without encountering his mate though he could feel her nearby. It was only a matter of time before she checked back here. It was odd. For years, he had been told about and read about the Ceangal. Even seen it in action, but experiencing it was nothing like he had expected. It was as though a part of his mind was always aware of Jayne’s presence or, presumably, her absence. He wasn’t ready to face her yet. When he had seen and felt her fear of him this morning, all he been able to think of was his mother. She had feared the transformation, hated everything about it, including his father. He couldn’t bear to have Jayne think of him that way and he was very much afraid of what he might feel from her when she caught up with him.
If that made him a coward then so be it.
Cam sat at his computer with a sigh and clicked open his e-mail program, waiting while his new messages downloaded. He looked at his hands as they worked the keyboard. It was hard to believe they had been paws less than twenty minutes ago. How long did he have before they would be that way again? He had thought he had remembered what it was like to shift from his experience in his teens but he hadn’t been prepared at all. Time had dulled the memory of the pain.
He had remembered that the cat was very much a separate being, at least until after the Ceangal was completed. That hadn’t been an issue when he was a teenager, he had been quite happy to let the instincts of the lion take over. They hadn’t been so very different from his own, basic, primitive and ultimately as self-centered as only a teen could be. And he had been more troubled than most.
It had been a wild ride, hunting in the woods around the house, learning the scents and sounds of his territory. Experiencing the world from a completely new perspective. As a result, he hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to fight against the cat. It had taken almost every ounce of his concentration to keep it from going to Jayne. It didn’t care whether she feared it.