Figure of Speech (Halle Shifters)

by Bell, Dana Marie

  “What?” Alex barely looked up from the baby in his arms. He gasped. “Oh, you farted! That’s so cute!”

  “And on that note…” Jim grabbed hold of her arm and started edging toward the door.

  “Why is your butt so warm?” Alex frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  Chloe grabbed hold of her mate and darted into the hallway. “Three…two…one…”

  “Holy shit! What the hell is that?”

  Jim collapsed against the wall, dragging Chloe down with him. “Think he meant that literally?”

  Chloe nodded, laughing too hard to answer.

  With their shifter hearing they could still hear Alex’s disgust. “Tabby, I think Wren’s ass is possessed.”

  “Why’s that, sugar?” Tabby sounded calm, but Chloe could hear rustling, like Tabby was playing with her sheets…or changing a newborn’s diaper.

  “Should it look like something from The Exorcist is living in there?”

  “Alex, we were told about this.” Tabby’s tone was patient. “The black stuff, the…what did she call it? The poo cork? Is out now, and we’re going to see the poop rainbow for a while.”

  “I’ll never look at Skittles the same way again,” Alex groaned.

  Jim tugged on her hand and Chloe followed, silently laughing. “Sk-skittles.”

  He bit his lip, holding it in until they were in the elevator. Then he let it out again, collapsing against the elevator wall. “Oh, jeez, that was bad. Poo cork?”

  They were holding each other up when the elevator finally hit the first floor. There stood Eric Bunsun, Alex’s brother, a big-ass stuffed bear in his hands. “What’s gotten into you two?”

  “Not a poo cork, that’s for sure,” Chloe gasped.

  “Or rainbow candy,” Jim added.

  “Okay,” Eric drawled. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Can I go see my niece now?”

  “Sure thing.” Chloe and Jim stepped off the elevator and headed for the hospital door.

  “You still want one?”

  “A Skittle?” Man, her mate must have gotten oxygen deprived if he thought she wanted rainbow candy after that.

  “A baby.”

  “Eventually. I think we need to get carried first, though.” She didn’t dare look at him. He hadn’t once mentioned the M-word, and she’d been living with him for a couple of weeks now.

  “How does September sound?” He put his arm around her shoulders.

  She began to tremble. Did he mean it?

  “Yup, I mean it.” He stopped her and turned her around. “With everything crazy that’s going on, I’d like to keep it small. It’s safer that way.”

  “Big party later?”

  He nodded, the tension she hadn’t noticed before falling away from him. “Sounds good to me. How about you?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes turned golden brown. “You mean it?”

  She nodded.

  “Thank fuck.” He picked her up and twirled her around. Then he plunked her down, his eyes wide and worried. “Rings?”

  “Rings?”

  “Can we wear them? You know, when we…” He lifted his lip. “Fur out?”

  “Nope. But we can hare them when we aren’t.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  She poked his lip. “You can put that down now, big bad.”

  He chuckled and put his arm around her. “I love you, you know?”

  “I blow, Jim.” She patted his hand. “I blow.”

  He blinked, staring at her in confusion, but no way was she telling him whether or not she’d misspoken intentionally.

  She blinked up at him, trying to appear as innocent as her newborn cousin. “Can we go get some Red Butt now?”

  “Naughty little vixen.” He nipped her earlobe. “I like the way you think.”

  “Wait.”

  He took off running toward the car.

  “Damn it, I didn’t mean that one!”

  Chloe chased after her Wolf, but as she always would in the future, this time she caught him.

  About the Author

  Dana Marie Bell wrote her first short story when she was thirteen years old. She’s now a USA Today bestselling author with Samhain Publishing and Carina Press. Dana has lived primarily in the Northeast with a brief stint on the U.S. Virgin Island of St. Croix. She lives with her soul mate and husband Dusty, their two maniacal children, two evil ice-cream-stealing cats and a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekingese. She’s been heard to describe herself as “vertically challenged” and “a lapsed brunette.” Dana also suffers from ankylosing spondylitis (a progressive inflammatory arthritis that primarily affects the spine), and can be seen walking with a cane or tooling around in her mobility scooter. Her condition was the inspiration for Belle’s hip injury in Steel Beauty.

  You can learn more about Dana at:

  www.danamariebell.com

  danamariebell.blogspot.com

  www.facebook.com/pages/Dana-Marie-Bells-Fan-Page/185916691436341

  www.twitter/com/danamariebell

  Look for these titles by Dana Marie Bell

  Now Available:

  Halle Pumas

  The Wallflower

  Sweet Dreams

  Cat of a Different Color

  Steel Beauty

  Only In My Dreams

  Halle Shifters

  Bear Necessities

  Cynful

  Bear Naked

  Figure of Speech

  The Gray Court

  Dare to Believe

  Noble Blood

  Artistic Vision

  The Hob

  Siren’s Song

  Heart’s Desire

  Shadow of the Wolf

  Hecate’s Own

  The Wizard King

  Poconos Pack

  Finding Forgiveness

  Mr. Red Riding Hoode

  True Destiny

  Very Much Alive

  Eye of the Beholder

  Howl for Me

  Morgan’s Fate

  Not Broken

  Coming Soon:

  The Gray Court

  Never More

  A crescendo of evil could destroy their perfect harmony.

  Siren’s Song

  © 2014 Dana Marie Bell

  The Gray Court, Book 5

  Oberon is well and truly lost, with no memory of who he is, where he came from, or where he’s going. One woman makes his palms sweat and his heart race, a woman with turquoise eyes and a beautiful voice. Instinct tells him she’s the only one who can save him.

  Cassie knows the truth—he is the High King, her truebond, the one man born to be hers and hers alone. Restoring his memory and keeping him out of the Black Court’s clutches is her mission, though success means losing him. Yet to give the world back its High King, she will make that sacrifice.

  As soon as Oberon’s memory comes crashing back through his mind’s closed door, he makes one vow. Though beset by enemies, chased and attacked, he will return to his rightful place with his Queen by his side.

  Except when he makes good on his vow, all hell breaks loose. And when Cassie’s life is threatened, the fae world will bow before the High King or pay the price in blood.

  Warning: This title contains explicit sex, graphic language, fishy shenanigans and royal naughtiness.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Siren’s Song:

  Swimming so far out in the icy waters had chilled him far more than he wanted to admit, but he could barely see the lights of the houses dotting the shores. Here, they ran no risk of being seen. Even the sight of Cassie diving into the sea, skin glistening under the moonlight in that tiny little bathing suit, couldn’t keep him warm.

  Cassie dove briefly, and when she ca
me up for air she had dropped her Seeming. The turquoise of her irises had swallowed the white, her pupils wide in the dark night. He felt her tuck something into the waistband of his underwear and realized it must be the bottom half of her bathing suit, something she couldn’t wear with a tail. “We’re not going too deep, but the dark can be frightening for someone who isn’t used to it.”

  “And unlike a siren I can’t use sonar to find my way around.”

  “Don’t worry. Concentrate on me, and everything will be fine.” She took hold of his arms. “I’ll light up for you, I promise.”

  His brows rose. “Excuse me?” That sounded vaguely intriguing, but he doubted she meant it the way it sounded.

  Cassie rolled her eyes. “You’ll see.” She smiled reassuringly. “This will sound strange, but don’t bother doing that deep breath thing. I’ll take care of it once we’re under water.” She bit her lip, appearing more nervous about this than he was. “Ready?”

  Not even close, but time was running out. Things had gone far too easily for them to remain safe. Oberon needed to be at full strength, his memories intact, before he dealt with Cassie’s issues and the matter of the traitor in his court. “Let’s go.”

  With a swish of water, Cassie pulled him under.

  And under.

  The sensation of floating was pleasant, at least at first. Cassie’s grip on his arms reassured him that he wasn’t alone as the dark waters swirled overhead. The scales on her cheeks, neck, arms and fin began to give off a faint aqua glow, giving just enough light to see the eerie beauty of the woman who dragged him beneath the waves.

  But soon the urge to breathe became almost overwhelming, the desire to move, to reach for the air causing him to fight Cassie’s grasp.

  When his lungs burned and he thought he might pass out, Cassie did something he hadn’t been expecting.

  She kissed him.

  Surprised, he opened his mouth, desperate to take a deep breath, even if it meant stealing hers.

  Except he didn’t breathe, not in the way he’d expected.

  Sharp, searing pain ran down from his armpits almost to his waist. Something fluttered against his skin, tickling him.

  The overwhelming urge to gulp in air faded.

  Something inside him, some ability he hadn’t realized he had, took notice of what Cassie had done. He’d changed, his body transforming to accept the oxygen in the water. Gills had grown on his sides, close to his lungs, the water flowing over them and feeding the life-giving element straight into his bloodstream while removing the carbon dioxide that would kill him.

  Oh. So that was how merfolk breathed. Now that his body understood what to do, he would no longer need Cassie to give him breath. He could transform himself whenever he wished.

  What other abilities were lost with my memories? Could he grow wings and fly? Burrow beneath the earth? Turn lead into gold?

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  As Cassie started to pull away he reacted on instinct. She wasn’t about to end this kiss before he’d truly begun to enjoy it.

  Oberon took hold of her, refusing to allow her to back away. Now that he wasn’t in pain, he was going to savor this. He’d fought his attraction to her, afraid she’d turn out just like Titannia.

  She’d proven she wasn’t anything like his faithless ex. Hell, she’d gone bravely into the water, terrified though she’d been, just to help him. He doubted that Titannia would have done the same, even when things had been good between them.

  Cassie jolted under his touch, her lips just a breath away from his own. They gazed at one another, Cassie’s expression shocked, her hands gripping his arms almost to the point of pain. Her fingernails had turned into short, sharp claws, but even in her surprise Cassie didn’t break his skin.

  Shock turned to longing as Oberon brushed their lips together. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, gliding his hands down her sides toward where her hips should be. The feel of her skin gradually becoming cool, supple scales was surprisingly erotic. When she closed her eyes and relaxed against him, allowing him to take her, to be the one guiding them…

  Was there any better sensation than a woman’s surrender? Her trust humbled him when little else did. He’d done nothing to earn this from her, yet she granted him the right to hold her, to protect her. He could sense it in the way she gave herself up to him, the way she wrapped herself around him and let him hold her weight. She let him guide them, the kiss slow and sweet as the desire between them built into a bonfire. Her taste filled his senses, burrowed into him until nothing else mattered. Not memories, not crowns, not even treacherous exes. There was nothing but the warm, willing sea nymph in his arms driving him out of his mind.

  When he finally pulled his mouth from hers his only thought was how he could take her, make her his so that nothing could take her from his side.

  Cassie licked her lips, her eyes still closed, her arms still wrapped tightly around his neck. They were so close he could see the tiny scales on the bridge of her nose, the way they branched out on her forehead like pearl dust. Her eyes finally opened.

  They gazed at one another, and he found himself stunned at the sorrow that slowly drove the need from her expression. Cassie loosed her grip on his neck, carefully pulling free of his hold. He wanted desperately to ask her what was wrong, why she’d pulled away, but he had no breath to speak, no way to tell her the last thing he wanted was to be free from her. She caressed his cheek with a look that was remarkably like a good-bye.

  Before he could do more than reach for her, Cassie began to sing, and any thought of holding her was driven from his mind as he was bowled over by the savage wave of his life.

  He is the love of all her lives…

  Furious Fire

  © 2014 Shiloh Walker

  Grimm’s Circle, Book 8

  Thomas Finn, troublemaker, gunslinger, guardian angel…loner. More than a hundred and fifty years ago, he was shot in the back then brought back to life just in time to watch a demon masquerading as his best friend kill the love of his life.

  Now, as a Grimm, he satisfies his need for vengeance hunting down demons like the ones that took Rebecca from him. His mission: kill as many as he can, then, when the time comes, go down in a blaze of glory. But with each kill, he comes closer to a line no angel should cross.

  Her name was Rebecca. Then it was Tilly. Then Ada. Now, Kalypso. She’s lived so many lives, she can’t even remember when or why it started. All she knows is, she’s always searching for a man with golden eyes that make her burn. And when she finds him—as she always does—she knows that spark of joy means she’s only seconds away from death…again.

  This time will be no different…unless something breaks the cycle once and for all.

  Warning: Contains the Groundhog Day of star-crossed lovers, a pissed-off guardian angel, a demon-hunter with an axe to grind, and the battle to end all battles. Be warned…there’s pain ahead in this book. Oh, and that HEA finally happens. For these two, anyway.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Furious Fire:

  Finn didn’t even remember leaving the riverbank.

  He stood at the edge of the churchyard.

  The church had burned to the ground. Will had kept it from spreading but he hadn’t been able to save the church.

  Then he’d blasted his way into Finn’s head and bound his ability for a decade.

  The pyrokinesis was apparently too volatile to be left in the hands of somebody spiraling through grief and rage. A newly made angel at that. Although why Finn had come into this life with such a deadly ability, he didn’t know.

  He was still trying to understand why he’d come into this life at all.

  Brooding, he stared at the rotting remains of the church. A new one had been built. Twice.

  It had burnt down twice more.

  Once after lightning
struck it in 1892 and then again in 1928 after a lantern was knocked over. Apparently they gave up then. “Three times a charm.” Staring at the few timbers that hadn’t yet given into the elements, he looked at Will. “You’re telling me that he had a demon in him all that time. We were best friends. We did everything together—he was a good man. Once. I don’t…”

  He stopped and lifted his gaze to the sky, staring at it through the crisscrossing branches of the tree.

  “It’s an easy enough answer. You felt it yourself when you saw your Rebecca standing next to him. Jealousy. He wanted what you had. He loved her, just as you did. But she loved you. The demonic can work that. You know it as well as I do.”

  Finn closed his eyes against the knowledge that burned in him. “And it had him—had her for two years?”

  “No.” Will’s voice was a cool slap against the burning fury that started to spiral out of control.

  Finn shot to his feet but when he would have started to move, Will caught his arm.

  “He knew, almost right away, that he’d made a mistake. He fought it—as hard as he could, for as long as he could. But once you open that door and it comes inside, once you let it gain control…” Will looked away.

  “It was too late then.” Bitterness twisted him. Two years. He’d left his woman alone with a monster for two years. No wonder Will hadn’t told him.

  “That monster didn’t get the better of him until the final few months—not when it came to her.”

  Finn swore. “Stay out of my head.” He yanked on the leather cord around his neck. He’d been wearing it when he woke up after Becky’s funeral and Will had told him just what sort of life he’d fallen into. The pendant was etched with upswept wings and when the Grimm looked, it bore words from a language long dead.

  Under Finn’s touch, it pulsed, then warmed. Even that irritated him, this connection to a life he hated. He ripped it off and for one moment, he thought about hurling it back at the other man. But something stopped him. Instead of throwing it, and his life, away, he snarled, “This—wearing it—accepting this life, doesn’t mean I want you prying inside my head. Let me have my thoughts. They are all I have, okay?”

  Will inclined his head. “If you wish. But would you really prefer to live the rest of your life believing that your friend spent two years tormenting her? Or would you have the truth of it?”