Tales of the Were: Magnus

by Bianca D'Arc

  Mag had kept her informed while she recovered, telling her about different events in the wider world of shifters. He’d told her about the attack on the new High Priestess and a few other incidents that had happened in other shifter Packs and Clans. It was something to talk about while she recovered. Something that wasn’t as explosive as other topics—especially the topic of their relationship.

  Mag drove home while her mind raced a mile a minute. He didn’t say much until they were well away from the Redstone Construction building and on the road toward his place in the desert.

  “I’m sorry about that.” He spoke quietly, not upsetting the delicate balance of the desert night. “My family, I mean. I didn’t think they’d ambush us until later.”

  “It’s okay. We both knew it was coming,” she allowed. “And it’s clear they were worried about you. I don’t blame them for wanting to meet the wicked woman monopolizing all your nights.” She giggled a little at the thought of that. If only it was as naughty as it sounded.

  She’d spent one night in his arms two years ago, and it had ruined her for any other man. She hadn’t had sex with anyone since him. Even though she brought many of her prey males to completion through sheer vampire magic alone—because it made their blood so much more powerful if she drank at their moment of climax—she hadn’t been tempted to join any of them in the moment.

  She still wanted Mag. She always wanted him. He was her One, though she’d firmly shut the connection that had tried to open between them during that one moment of shared ecstasy. Even as young as she was, she had more skill with psychic magic than Mag did. Shifters weren’t very psychic generally, but vamps had all sorts of skills in that area.

  Miranda had worked hard on her abilities when she’d first been turned. She had perfected one of the basic skills all baby vamps were taught—keeping your mind to yourself. She was able to shut down and keep people out. Maybe not an ancient bloodletter who was way more powerful than she was, but certainly a mortal or a shifter who had no real psychic abilities.

  That would change though, if she allowed the mating. If she eased the iron control she kept over the place in her mind where they were connected, she and Magnus would share their minds. They’d be able to communicate silently, and share their thoughts and memories.

  If she dared.

  Miranda didn’t know if she had the nerve for it. It was a frightening thought. Something many vampires waited centuries to find. It seemed unreal that she’d found her One after only a little more than half a century as a bloodletter, and without even really bothering to look.

  Could the priestess be right? Could the Mother of All have had a hand in their meeting? Was there some big plan in place to get them together?

  Miranda was afraid. If there was an element of fate in their finding each other, what sort of destiny could that mean for them, if those ancient couples were fighters in the war against Elspeth? Was war coming once again? And if so, would they be on the front lines of it?

  Miranda hadn’t been born a fighter, but she knew herself well enough now to know she’d be ready if it came. Kate had been right in implying that the ordeal she’d suffered had changed her. It had tested her and tempered her. She knew who her enemies were, and why she had to fight them. She could not let others suffer as she had at the hands of their madness and evil.

  “Speaking of nights,” Mag recaptured her wandering attention. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be facing the Master tomorrow night. In fact, I’m surprised we didn’t get the summons right after we left Raintree’s.”

  “Bloodletters move fast when they want to, but immortality can sometimes give them—especially the really old ones—a sort of lethargy. They move at their own pace and do things when it suits them. After all, there’s always tomorrow night, right? I think when you live that long, time starts to become almost meaningless.” It was her own little theory, but she’d seen a lot in the past fifty or sixty years to prove it was true.

  “I know it’s rude to ask a lady her age, but I keep hearing how young you are for a vamp. So what have you got—almost a century? Less?”

  She had to laugh. “Not quite that much. I was born mortal in 1932 and changed in my twenties. If I had not been changed, I’d be in my eighties now. Instead, I’m perpetually twenty-two years old. Frozen in time.” She sighed and looked out the window at the passing desert scenery. It was stark in the night, but still beautiful in an austere way. “My little sister, Ainsley, is still alive. She’s in her late seventies and still going strong. She looks so much like our mother did. I wish I could talk to her, but I’ve done my best to watch over her and her family through the years. She named her daughter after me and then little Miranda got married and had Melissa.”

  The car pulled in to a long driveway. They were already back at Mag’s place. Time had flown while she contemplated so many difficult things—her family, Mag’s family, the words of the priestess and her mate… Miranda was terribly confused by it all.

  Mag got out and came around to open her door, ushering her up the walk. A shimmer in front of them solidified into a naked man and Mag didn’t even blink. Instead, he tossed the guy the keys and continued on his way.

  “Who was that? And where did he come from?” Miranda looked over her shoulder as the guy opened the back door of the SUV. He retrieved some clothing that had been stashed back there and got dressed. A few moments later, she heard the engine start and the vehicle roll away, back down the drive.

  “One of Steve’s guys. A raptor. He flew here, following us. That little nod he gave me? That was the signal that the coast was clear. We weren’t followed. Nor has anyone strange been prowling around the house. He no doubt already checked in with the guys Steve put on the roof, and Billy over there.” Mag pointed toward the side of the house where a big dog stood silhouetted against the sky for a short moment. Only it wasn’t a dog. It was a wolf. A werewolf. Had to be.

  Between one moment and the next, the wolf had disappeared back into the night. He’d come out of hiding just long enough to make his presence known, then faded away again, a true master of stealth. Miranda could feel the slight tingle of shifter magic, but other than that, she wouldn’t have been aware of his presence at all.

  An owl hooted and she looked up to find a massive creature staring at her from the peak of the roof. Mag waved at it with a friendly gesture. The owl was another shifter, showing his or her presence before stepping back into the shadows.

  “As you can see, we’ll be well guarded. The Clan won’t let any bloodletters—or anything else for that matter—mess with us. That’s just one of the perks of being part of a Clan.”

  “They’d do this for any Clan member? I mean, it’s not just because you’re part of the ruling family, right?” Miranda was impressed.

  “Oh, most definitely.” He ushered her through the door and rearmed the security system. “We do the same for all Clan members who need a little extra help. We’re a big family and the hierarchy only matters in deciding who gives the orders. I’m an Alpha, so in any gathering of lesser shifters, I run the show. Same for my brothers, and the other Alphas we have in the Clan. There’s a hierarchy among the wolves, for example, and a single Alpha who rules over all of them. And the owls, and the hawks, and so on. All of those leaders come under Grif’s rule, though. They form a sort of advisory council that meets once a month or whenever there’s need. If the wolves have a problem they can’t solve among themselves, their Alpha goes to Grif and he either solves it or delegates it to one of us who has particular expertise in whatever the problem is. Like how Steve handles all the security stuff. He’s the acknowledged expert on that kind of thing, though we all have some training and interest.”

  “It’s a lot more complicated than I thought. Are all shifter groups like that?” They walked together through the living room while Mag seemed to be inspecting every window and door as they passed.

  “The Redstone organization is unique in the States. We’re the biggest and we have the l
argest variety of species under our banner. Grif built both the Clan and the business into something I don’t think any of us really expected, but it works. Grif is a great leader. Other Alphas—myself included—are happy to follow him. He’s fair, and has a really brilliant mind for strategy, which means prosperity in business and safety for Clan members. And after all, isn’t that really the American dream? Prosperity, safety and the freedom to be what you are in your own domain. Just another way of saying life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That’s what Redstone Construction and the Redstone Clan means to its members.”

  “You’re quite the public relations man,” Miranda observed and he started to chuckle. She shot him a questioning look.

  “PR is one of my responsibilities for the company,” he admitted. “Each of us runs a department or two in addition to working some of the jobs or crews. Steve got Security. Grif is the CEO. Bob runs Finance. Matt does what would otherwise be called Human Resources. We just call it Personnel. And I do the schmoozing. I make it rain, bringing in some of the really big deals and handle what little advertising and public relations we need.”

  “So you’re the Sales department? How’d you end up with that?” She smiled, surprised by his role in the company. He seemed so brawny and tough. She couldn’t imagine him wining and dining some fat cat developer in order to get a job contract for the company.

  “Well, we all participate when we want to go after a really big contract, but I make all the arrangements. I do the pitches and work up the drawings and models. I keep track of all the scheduling and project management. You see, I’m an architect.” He admitted it like it was some sort of big secret. And really, it was. She hadn’t had any idea of his educational background.

  “No wonder your house is so gorgeous.” It was the first thought that popped into her mind and apparently it was the right thing to say. He smiled as he led her into another room, which looked like his office. She hadn’t been in there before. There was the usual desk and files, but there was also a big drafting table with sketches on it. She went right over to it and marveled at the structure she saw drawn in bold strokes on the white paper. “You designed this?”

  He nodded as he joined her at the table. “It’s an idea I’ve had for a while. The whole structure is meant to run on solar and geothermal power. Very green. Some of our clients in California are interested in these kinds of designs.”

  “I bet. This is gorgeous as well as practical.” She turned to him, smiling. “As is this house. You designed it as well, didn’t you?”

  “It’s not perfect,” he was quick to say as he looked around the room. “I designed it to be a sunny oasis in the desert and had to retrofit it for the sun-proofing, but it worked out. It would have been better to design a sun-proof house from the ground up, but I’m pleased with the results here and now I know the best methods to incorporate into future designs. Do you think any of your bloodletter friends would be in the market for a new lair?” he asked comically, pulling her away from the drafting table and into his arms. “It could be a whole new line of business for the company. What do you think?”

  “It could work.” She tilted her head, grinning at him. “If they could be persuaded to trust you. Sadly, bloodletters aren’t very trusting people, in general.”

  “Except you, sweetheart. You trust me, don’t you?” He tugged her closer and leaned his head downward so that his lips were only an inch from hers. Her body craved the contact, loving the feel of his strong, hard-muscled form against her.

  “I’m young and foolish, remember?” she teased, closing the gap between them, sealing their lips in a kiss she’d wanted for so very long.

  Chapter Eight

  She couldn’t pull back. She couldn’t put an end to this sublime feeling. Being in Mag’s arms was like nothing else. It was everything. It was pure pleasure and all that was right with the world. How could she continue to deny herself when he was right there, clearly wanting to kiss her as much as she wanted him to.

  She arched up into his kiss, giving more, taking more, demanding all and giving it back in return. Her body strained against his, wanting to be closer, annoyed by the layers of clothing that separated them.

  She gasped when he broke their lips apart and swung her up into his arms. He carried her out of the office and down the hall to the room where she’d spent the majority of her time asleep since being freed. But she wasn’t asleep now. No, she was as far from sleep as it was possible to get. Her body revved up with the wonder of its mate’s caresses.

  He lay her on the bed like an offering to some pagan deity and she went willingly. When his hard body came down over hers, she welcomed him, straining upward to meet his renewed kiss. Their breathing increased as their bodies moved in rhythm, pleasure blossoming between them. She couldn’t let this go much further if she wanted to retain control over their psychic link. If she came, she wouldn’t be able to keep the connection closed off, and he’d know. They’d be linked again, and she would find it close to impossible to close that connection.

  She pushed against his chest, knowing what had to be and hating it with all her heart.

  “Mag, we can’t do this,” she panted as he moved back a few inches, allowing her to speak.

  “I’m not leaving you tonight, Miranda. I can’t. Please don’t ask me to.” His grip tightened and then he suddenly rolled away, sitting up on the side of the bed, his hands running through his hair.

  She understood. She felt the same. It was hell denying their connection, but she didn’t see any alternative in which they both survived the experience of giving in to it.

  “Watching you feed from that guy in the club tonight…” His voice held a world of pain and jealousy. “It was the last straw for me. I can’t watch that again. I won’t be able to keep myself from tearing your prey apart. Do you understand? You’re my mate, Miranda. I don’t know what that means among bloodletters, but among shifters, mates are sacred. Blessed. Protected and cherished. Mates are forever, Miranda.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he turned to her as their gazes met. “I want forever with you.”

  Oh, dear Goddess. Her heart broke at the look in his eyes, and her heart echoed with the pain she also felt. How could she hurt him this way? How could she hurt them both with her continued denial of their bond?

  Knowing he felt it too broke down all her barriers. She’d thought she was the only one who knew about their connection, but she should’ve known better. Shifters had magic all their own, and even if they didn’t know their One the same way her people did, they probably had some way of identifying their life mate. She’d been so stupid.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked as emotion swamped her. “I thought I could keep the connection closed and you wouldn’t be hurt by it. I thought I was the only one suffering. Oh, Mag.” She nearly leapt into his arms and clung to him as tears threatened. “I knew you were my One that first night. Our minds touched and I pulled back, hoping you didn’t notice.” Her confession came out in a rush. “I can’t do it anymore, but I don’t see how this is going to work. Your people don’t like me. My people will probably try to destroy us both rather than let me move up in the hierarchy. I thought staying away from you would protect us both, but all it’s done is hurt us. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  His big hands cupped her head as he drew away to look deep into her eyes. “My love, I know you were doing what you thought was right. So was I, even as I let you go. I could’ve searched harder for you. Instead, I waited until you came to me and it was almost too late. Can you forgive me for not coming for you sooner?” His voice dropped as pain filled his gaze. “If I had pushed to find you, you would never have been captured. Your ordeal was my fault. I’m the one who needs your forgiveness.”

  “Oh, Mag, don’t ever say that!” She was shocked that he’d take on that kind of guilt over something she had come to see as inevitable. “My ordeal, as you put it, is laid squarely at the feet of the mage who did it. It was never about you, and
second guessing our decisions now gets us nowhere. Even if you had found me back then, who’s to say I would’ve gone with you? I would’ve fought you, just as I’ve fought this attraction. As my mother used to say, everything happens for a reason. I have to believe that.”

  “Funny. My mother used to say the same thing.” He leaned his forehead against hers as their emotions began to settle. “You know, you’re wrong about the Clan. If you’re my mate, you’re automatically a member of the Clan. That means they will protect you. Just like they protect me—and vice versa. I think they’ll come to love you. I mean, what shifter Clan has a pet vampire at their disposal? Think of the entrée that will give us…if you’re willing to work with us.”

  “So it’s love me, love my Clan?” She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Would it really be possible to live among shifters and not be a detested outsider?

  “Something like that.” He smiled and drew back, though his arms remained around her, keeping her in the circle of his warmth. “Like I said, a mate is a sacred thing. Most shifters find their mates among their own kind, but there are always outliers. Humans. Mages. Humans with mage ancestors or shifter ancestors. You haven’t met her yet, but Grif’s mate is like that. She wasn’t a shifter until recently—which is a long story for another time—but you should know that she’s quickly taking her place as the matriarch of the Clan and everyone loves her. Shifters believe that the Goddess guides us in finding out true mates. Who are we to argue with the Wisdom of the Goddess? If you’re my mate—and you are—then nobody can question it. To question our mating would be to question the Mother of All and nobody wants to dare that.”