You’ll be so much more comfortable, she’d insisted so earnestly he’d been helpless to tell her no.
She was dying, and her first priority was to make him more comfortable in his own home. The woman was certifiable, but she was also the kindest being he’d ever met in his century of living.
The water stopped, and it was all Sebastian could do not to rush into the bathroom to witness the glistening droplets of water that were currently running over Briony’s curves in the way he wished his hands were. In the way his hands would, once he’d solved her mortality problem and she agreed to become his mate.
Both would be arduous tasks.
Luckily, Sebastian relished a good challenge.
The way she would look naked—slightly rounded belly, breasts that would prove to be more than a handful—invaded his thoughts as he grabbed an old Full Moon shirt and went to the bathroom door.
His knock was soft, an attempt to avoid startling her. She opened the door a moment later, one of his monogrammed towels cinched tightly to cover the very parts of her he so badly wanted to see.
She looked beautiful. Dark, wet curls tumbled down to her waist. Her dainty toes were painted bright shades of red and green. Bare of makeup, her eyes seemed huge, especially when they widened at the sight of him.
“I thought you’d want to borrow a shirt to paint in.” Sebastian held it out, and she accepted the garment with a small smile.
“I’m keeping this,” she said, bringing the shirt to her face and inhaling. “Beer and leather,” she murmured, her eyes closing. “I understand why you smell of beer, but not leather.”
Sebastian smiled. “I can’t work out why you smell of dark chocolate.”
Her eyes were still closed. He took the opportunity to sidle closer, until he could feel the terrycloth of her towel. The damp heat of her body hit him hard, causing him to shift so she couldn’t feel her effect on him. He would push her to reveal her desires, but never would he pressure her to give more of herself than she wished.
From the scent of her arousal, he was sure sex would come, but that time wasn’t now.
That was fine with Sebastian, since there was so much of her he could explore first.
Like her mouth.
She shivered. He leaned down to capture her lips with his. She was just as desperate for touch as he; her eyes flew open before closing again. She met his tongue with her own, pulling it into her mouth as she wrapped both arms around his neck.
He growled in approval, hastening to secure her towel before it fell off her. There was no need to test his self-control that rigorously. Such a feat, he imagined, would almost definitely have a lasting negative effect on his favorite anatomical parts.
So he kept his hands where they were, anchoring the flimsy material providing her modesty while he tasted her thoroughly, kissing his way to her ear.
“I never thought my mate would taste of chocolate,” he whispered before turning toward his bedroom. He forced himself to walk away from her, grinding his teeth together so hard it hurt when he heard the soft, unmistakable sound of the towel landing on the ground.
I will not turn back.
“Sebastian.”
He reversed to face her so quickly it would have given him whiplash were he human. She’d pulled his shirt on, which landed mid-thigh on her, but not quickly enough that he didn’t get a glimpse of smooth, shapely leg.
His imagination hadn’t done her justice.
She reached out for him. He closed the distance between them in swift strides, pulling her against him as if he’d done it a thousand times before. The way their bodies fit together was natural, soothing the part of him that constantly paced, desperate to find a way to save her and his pack from yet another threat.
Sebastian wanted to howl.
At the same time, all he wanted to do was hold this woman as long as he could, shutting them away from the rest of the world until they were ready to face the demons who wanted their heads.
But that wasn’t possible.
“Don’t tempt me,” Sebastian warned, forcing himself to put distance between them. By the second, the part of him that refused to pull the shirt over her head and seek out her most intimate parts was backing down, giving way to his more base desires.
Briony said nothing, only held her lip between her teeth. A heartbreakingly sad expression crossed her face, but she brightened when she caught sight of the paint cans.
“Can we start?” she asked eagerly.
Sebastian nodded, and soon they had tarps laid out over his furniture, which had been pushed in to give them access to every inch of wall space. Before they opened the paint, Sebastian tossed her a pair of old sleep pants covered in a Futurama print.
With her legs distracting him, he’d accidentally paint the window brown before starting to paint the quilt on his bed. Besides, her bare legs had been covered in goose bumps from the winter draft of the room.
“Why’d you get tape?” Briony held up a large blue roll, her brow furrowed in confusion.
It was the beginning of Sebastian’s realization that Briony should never again be allowed near a paintbrush.
A couple of hours later, his room looked like a disaster zone. The acrid, chemical smell of the paint hurt Sebastian’s sensitive nose, and Briony was only becoming more and more upset over the uneven coats, drips and the many areas where she’d painted layers of two different colors, leaving behind a strange color combinations.
Every so often she would open and close her hands, cringing, before painfully closing her fist around a paintbrush. Each time Sebastian saw the hurt cross her face his fury rose, bringing his temper to the surface.
Finally Briony plopped down on a chair, pressing her face in her hands only to rub almost a full handprint on her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ve never done this without magic before,” she said with a frown. “I didn’t realize it was so hard.”
“That’s why we normally hire someone to do it,” Sebastian snapped.
Defeated, Briony cast her eyes down.
Sebastian felt like absolute shit.
Silently, he went to grab a warm, wet rag before dragging another chair next to hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gently wiping the silver handprint from her face. “I shouldn’t have said that—”
“You were right,” she murmured, unshed tears making her eyes shine, revealing streaks of yellow and black in the warm brown. “Everything I used to be able to do, I can’t do anymore. All of my magic’s gone.”
At that moment Gris-Gris pushed the door to the room open, its bushy tail swinging jauntily.
You can change her, a female with a gentle voice said. You have to change her, a male countered fiercely. There’s no other way to keep her alive much longer.
We like you better with her around, a young male said. Sebastian took it for the threat it was. He nodded, promising them he’d do his best to make her a werewolf.
At least the conduit has good taste, he thought wryly.
Excitement electrified him, tempered by uncertainty. Would she want to be a were? What would happen to her magic—was it gone forever?
Would she be willing to live without the abilities she so loved?
Yes.
Sebastian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. She put her head on his shoulder, a single tear landing on his shirt.
I’ll make her so happy, she’ll forget how much she misses her magic.
Joy came naturally to Briony. If anyone could overcome such a loss, she could.
Gris-Gris surveyed the room, arranging its features to appear skeptical. What the hell happened here? a woman asked, other women and a few men chiming in their concerns, too.
“We tried to paint, but I’m no good at it and Briony’s used to having a touch of help.”
Briony nodded at Gris-Gris, her expression somber.
The cat’s eyes glowed.
In seconds the walls were without flaw. The paint smell evaporated. The brown was painted to appear as if it were wood, surprising him. Sebastian rose to touch it, only to find that it was wood, a coat of gloss painted on top.
The blue wall was darker than the can described, the color of a starless night. A full moon was painted onto it, and a glow emanated from the mural that illuminated the room.
For the first time Sebastian saw the moon as a source of light, not as a threat that made him deadly to everyone he cared about for days each month. If he mated with Briony, the moon might no longer be a threat. Mated wolves still changed form on the full moon, but most were no longer dangerous unless they wanted to be.
Gris-Gris nodded almost imperceptivity before padding over to a comfortable cushion on the floor in the shape of a Louis-Vuitton purse, complete with the logo. Sebastian only knew the brand because of Aiyanna’s fondness for it.
Only he could have sworn the cushion he’d moved toward the center of the room earlier had been in the shape of a gold fleur-de-lis, not a purse.
Weird-ass cat.
“It’s so beautiful!” Briony beamed. The light from the mural seemed to extend to her, adding color to her cheeks and a slight glow under her skin.
Sebastian looked at the cat questioningly.
All her, a few amused voices answered.
“It feels warmer in here already, more welcoming. This is the type of space you need.” She smiled as she ran her hand across a wood wall.
She wasn’t kidding about the warmth. The conduit must have sealed the areas that caused the draft, keeping the winter air out.
“You really are my familiar.” The moment she opened her arms Gris-Gris leapt into them, purring as it curled up in her lap.
Joy positively radiating from her, Briony cooed and petted her cat. “Thank you.” She scratched Gris-Gris behind the ears while the animal sat very, very still, as if moving would stop her ministrations.
Sebastian almost took the cat and put it outside the door, only to demand to be petted himself.
Briony must have read his mind because she looked up at him with a mischievous smile that said she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Shaking his head, Sebastian left the room before he tossed the preening conduit out the window.
He was glad not to run into anyone in the kitchen. Normally he never minded being surrounded by his pack, but today he needed space to think. One wrong move and Briony’s death would precede every creature’s in this city.
As he put together two vegetarian sandwiches for Briony and five carnivorous ones for himself, finishing off their last loaf of brioche bread, he thought about changing Briony into a werewolf and the possibility of mating with her.
They didn’t have to be mated for her transition to work. If she wanted, she could live free of him and join another pack.
The thought made him want to punch through the counter.
Still, he had to make it clear that she had options. She hadn’t wanted to obligate him to her, and he’d extend the same courtesy.
The question was, did he want to have a mate? To have her as his mate, bonding their lives and powers together for their immortal lives?
His answer was swift: yes.
Never would he have expected to feel this way, but there was no denying the way he felt about her. She was it for him, connected to him permanently whether they mated or not. He no longer thought about other women. Never did she bore him, or make him feel so suffocated he had to get away from her.
He would always do his best to take care of her, and he would damn well always make sure she was safe.
If that meant taking out every warlock there was, he’d do it. Besides, the creatures had it in for his pack, their allies and countless innocents. They had to be put in their place, a job the witches had apparently cowered from.
When he finished eating, he poured Briony a glass of a green, strange-smelling juice she kept putting in their refrigerator and brought her food upstairs.
She was sound asleep in his bed.
The furniture had all been moved back, and Sebastian’s black quilt replaced with one the color of spring leaves. Gris-Gris, who must have made these changes, slept soundly at the end of the bed, less than a foot from Briony’s feet.
She’d been right: the conduit probably was her familiar, whatever that was.
The cat obviously adored her.
As quietly as he could, Sebastian showered and brushed his teeth before climbing into bed with her. A stupid smile had plastered itself to his face. He’d slept with her before, but this was different.
Tonight, she chose to share a bed with him. He’d expected her to go back to her room, but instead she’d wanted to stay near him.
His heart filling, he curled his body around hers, squeezing her hand gently when she laced their fingers together. Her ring, the Claddagh ring she’d found at Mary’s wedding, was still on her ring finger.
It took him mere moments to fall into a contented sleep.
Chapter 11
SEBASTIAN’S cell phone woke him at five the next morning.
Disentangling his limbs from Briony’s, he cursed as he stomped to where his phone had been charging across the room.
Briony mumbled something that sounded like, “I should hex you,” before pulling the blankets over her head, revealing her dainty feet.
He couldn’t help but smile.
“Hello?” he answered in his best I’m-not-irritated-at-you voice. He didn’t recognize the number, and it could be a Full Moon distributer from another time zone calling from a different line.
“Sebastian Anderson?” Whoever this was, she didn’t want to discuss beer. Her voice was high and wobbly, like she was forcing herself not to break down into sobs.
“You’re speaking to him.”
He heard a loud sniff followed by a slow intake of breath.
“I-I’m Jennifer Landry, the vice principal of Abiah Folger High School. I’m sorry to inform you we will no longer be needing mentors or donations. The school burned down last night.” She took another long breath. “There is no more Abiah Folger; the children will all be relocated to the other public high schools nearest them.”
Rage poured through him. It was a wonder he didn’t break his phone again, despite its expensive protective case.
“Was anyone hurt?” The question came out sharply, but that was Sebastian’s primary concern. The school had lock-ins every so often for their students, and if last night had been one of them…
“No, there was no one in or near the building when the fire started and spread, thank God.”
Sebastian released the breath he’d been holding. “Is there anything I can do?”
A sigh. “No, Mr. Anderson, there just isn’t enough money to rebuild. They can’t even afford to hire all of us at the other schools. We—” A hiccup. “We don’t know how we’re going to feed our families.”
“Please, let me know if there’s any way we can help.”
“I will,” she said, “but I think we’re all beyond help now. I hope you have a better day than we’re having.”
When Sebastian hung up, his hand was shaking.
“What happened?” Briony sat up in the bed, a concerned frown carving a line between her brows.
“The warlocks burned down the high school my pack volunteers with,” Sebastian told her grimly. “All the children have been displaced and the faculty lost their jobs…it’s a mess the humans shouldn’t have been involved in. Especially not human children.”
“It’s a warning,” Briony whispered, her voice hard. “They’re telling us what they can do to these children if they wanted to.”
He nodded. “It also shows how they’ve been watching us. They knew the exact school we’ve been working with for the past eight months.”
Silently, Briony stood, combing her hair with her fingers. She made a beeline for the door. Sebastian intervened, something
in the shine of her eyes warning him not to let her out of his sight.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to get dressed so I can go talk to Radburn. If they’re so angry about losing their conduits, then I’ll just give them back to the assholes.” She threw up her hands. “I can’t let more children get hurt because of them.” Tears were forming in her eyes, and her shoulders trembled.
Sebastian didn’t budge. “You’re not going anywhere near the warlocks, not as weakened as you are.”
She won’t go near them because she’ll have nothing to bargain with. Gris-Gris padded over to her and rubbed their head against her legs. We’ve given you our trust. This means we can’t be taken away from you or her, no matter if you want us away or not.
The cat’s tail twitched. It’s quite an honor, actually. Very few creatures manage to get us to stay willingly.
He couldn’t help but release a short laugh. Great, he thought. I’m stuck with a possessed stuffed live cat for my immortal life. This cat’s more powerful than me and has so many personalities I don’t want to know how many beings are trapped inside it. Fan-flipping-tastic.
Groaning inwardly, Sebastian relayed Gris-Gris’s message to Briony. Her mouth thinned and eyes narrowed, turning her expression sterner than he’d ever seen it.
“If you aren’t going to cooperate with my plan, then how are you going to help those poor humans?” she demanded.
Sparks flew from the cat’s ears when they cocked their head.
Instead of hearing one voice above whispers, Sebastian heard the voices of many, all of whom tried to tell him something different.
Why should we help humans—
—we can rebuild the school—
—I liked school—
What will they do for us?
Pulling from the overhead light, Sebastian sent a shower of sparks over Gris-Gris to get its attention.
“One voice at a time. Make a decision and then tell me.” He paused when the cat’s eyes closed, deep thought. “If you want to stay in Briony’s good graces, I highly suggest you opt to help the children whose lives have been altered by the warlocks. Do you really want those bastards having any effect on children?”
Enspelled Page 13