by Jane Jamison
“Slow the hell down,” ordered Reagan. “Samuel, get everyone a cold beer. Damian, set the table. And Morgan, get the salad that I made earlier out of the fridge.”
Brooklyn stood back, enjoying the way her friend commanded the kitchen. As she did often enough, she wondered why Reagan hadn’t found at least one man to settle down with. Impetuous and stubborn, her friend was also loyal and sweet. Plus, she was drop-dead gorgeous by anyone’s standards with her long, wavy raven hair and sultry eyes. Any man would be lucky to have her.
A comfortable silence fell over them as they nursed their beers then settled onto the mismatched dining chairs surrounding the huge oval table. She sat between Morgan and Damian with Samuel off to her right. As she pretended to concentrate on her drink, she skimmed her fingers along the name engraved into the wood table.
Samuel.
She fought back a smile, remembering the day the boys had gotten carving their names into the wood. Reagan and Morgan’s mother had given the boys hell only to end up hugging them later. Several inches toward the center was Damian’s name. Off to the left was Morgan’s. Reagan’s was somewhere near Samuel, covered at the moment by his empty plate. She’d been too timid, too afraid of Reagan’s werewolf mother to make her own mark.
“So how’s it been going since you got back?”
Suddenly, the air thickened, giving her an uncomfortable feeling. Samuel was making small-talk, but at least it was better than the quiet. “Fine. Feels like I never left home.” Almost. The relationship between them had definitely changed. But had it changed for the better?
“Have you started at the diner yet?” Morgan took a drag on his beer. “Is Miranda treating you right?”
She met his gaze, silently thanking him for the unspoken “if she doesn’t, I’ll get after her” promise. “Miranda’s great. Just like she always was.”
“And you’re okay going back to being a waitress?”
It was difficult to tell, but was Damian putting her job down? She wouldn’t believe so. He simply had a colder way of asking questions. “You mean after all my studies abroad?”
“Yeah. You know what I mean.”
“I do. And yeah, it’s fine. I started this morning, and it was more like taking time to see old friends than working. I’m a little rusty carrying a tray and remembering orders, but everyone’s taking it easy on me.”
“You could always use an order pad,” suggested Damian.
“Never.” She’d taken it as a source of pride that she hadn’t needed a pad. But he might be right. There were many other things to think about now. Things like how Morgan’s arms would feel around her. How Damian’s gaze would dive into hers and sink to her very soul. How Samuel’s smile entranced her, making her forget her own name.
Another round of silence came. Reagan, however, wasn’t one for letting things get boring. “Samuel, how about speeding things up? At this rate, the pizzas won’t be done for another twenty minutes.”
Samuel shot her a look, obviously not happy with using his powers for such a trivial matter, then relented. “Fine. But don’t make a habit out of it.” He waved a hand and immediately the fragrant smell of pepperoni filled the air.
“I don’t know what we’d do without you,” said Reagan as she waved Brooklyn back into her chair before she could help her cut the pizzas into sections. Thankfully, they had two enormous ovens that handled six pizzas.
They “chowed down,” as Morgan put it, the men and Reagan taking three slices to Brooklyn’s one. Would she be able to eat enormous amounts of food like Reagan once she was changed? A werewolf’s metabolism was much faster than a human’s. Samuel and Damian could eat a lot, too, but was that because of their metabolisms or Samuel’s magic? Even after all these years, she still had a lot of unanswered questions. Perhaps once she became a shifter, she’d get the answers to more of them.
Light talk accented the meal as Morgan kept everyone supplied with cold beers. At last, he leaned back and patted his stomach. “Damn, that was good.”
Samuel chuckled and took a drink, pushing his plate away. “Put pizza sauce on the bark of a tree and you’d devour it like it was a gourmet meal.”
Morgan frowned. “Maybe. If the sauce was good enough.”
Damian stood, then motioned toward the living room. “Let the cleaning up go for now. I’m in the mood for a show.”
“Are you planning on singing, vampire?” asked Samuel.
Brooklyn exchanged a knowing look with Reagan and followed her friend to the couch. She’d heard the same type of banter often and loved it. It was funny and made her feel at home.
“Don’t play dumb, wizard.” Morgan plopped his body between his sister and Brooklyn. “You know we want a magic show.”
Damian, his lips barely curved into a knowing smile, eased onto the armchair. Somehow, no matter what he did, his movements were always graceful. “Yeah, wiz, show us what you’ve got.”
“And then what?” asked Samuel. “Is Morgan going to shift? And what about you, vampire? Are you planning on changing into a winged creature of the night and flying around the room?”
Damian’s smile didn’t fade, but the silver in his eyes intensified, changing to a hard glitter. He hated hearing anyone talk about the misconceptions involved in vampire myths. He didn’t need to say anything to convey how he was thinking.
“Please, Samuel, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen any real magic.” Normally, Brooklyn wouldn’t have asked, but if it would calm Damian, then why not? Besides, she loved seeing what Samuel could do.
“Fine. For you.”
Her next breath was swiftly drawn in. The way he looked at her was a magic all its own.
In the next moment, he whipped his hand out, extending a bouquet of flowers. Yet unlike the fake flowers human magicians used, these were real red roses. “Flowers almost as beautiful as you.”
He’d never spoken to her like this. Was it a part of his act? She took them and drew in their fragrance. “Thank you.”
“More, brother.” Reagan often called the other two men, brother. After all, they considered themselves a family.
Will I ever become part of the family, too? Not just a welcomed outsider but a real member?
“All right.” Samuel waved his hand over the coffee table. Immediately the items resting on top popped into the air, a thin book, a decorative bowl, and a pen dancing together in the air. Everyone clapped, the magic appreciated even more because Samuel didn’t like doing tricks and would never stoop to such silliness if not for them.
“That’s great.” Brooklyn ran her hand over and under the bowl. “I never get tired of seeing your magic.”
“Then tell me, Brooklyn, what would you like me to do next? Name it.”
Tell me you want me. Tell me that all three of you want me as your mate.
Yet the real magic of those words would have to wait. She’d never want him to spell anyone to say them.
“I don’t know. Whatever you’d like.”
He thought for a moment then lifted his arms toward the ceiling. Immediately, darkness fell in the room. Outside the sun still shone, but the light couldn’t penetrate the blackness. The four of them waited, sensing this would be better than anything they’d ever seen.
Slowly, pinpoints of light appeared around them. One, then two, then more filled the void, their bright lights becoming stars in the room’s night sky.
“Oh,” whispered Brooklyn, entranced. “It’s beautiful.”
“Damn good, man,” said Damian, his voice filled with respect.
“You really outdid yourself this time,” added Reagan.
“Yeah. Not bad. Not bad at all.” Even Morgan was impressed.
“I wanted to give you the universe, but this is all I can do.” The dim light from the “stars” framed him. “I promise to do better if you’ll give me the time.”
“This is so much.” Brooklyn stared upward, her attention focused on the twinkling stars. She could feel the warmth of them on her
face. “Thank you, Samuel.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Don’t forget we’re here, too.” Morgan’s arm slipped around her waist and pulled her closer.
“Where’s Reagan?” When had her friend left the room?
“She’s around.” Damian’s hand skimmed along her leg.
“What are you doing?” Her question was for both men.
“Are they bothering you?” Samuel knelt before her. “Just say the word and I’ll make them disappear.”
“Yeah. Right. As if he could.” Morgan leaned closer, his mouth close enough to her ear to feel his breath. Somehow the slight touch was more sensual than anything she’d ever experienced.
“Don’t argue.” She wasn’t sure why she said that. Or maybe it was so they’d do something else instead?
Damian hooked his finger under her chin, turning her head and taking her attention away from Morgan. “You’re glad to be here, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. It’s not like anyone compelled me to be here.” She hoped her expression was calm. If it was, it was in direct contrast to the wild romp of emotions running pell-mell inside her.
“We’d never do that.”
His mouth was so close. So very close.
Kiss me. If you can read my mind, then kiss me.
Yet he held back. What would he do if she were the one to put her mouth to his? Would he kiss her back? Would he take her kiss as encouragement to do more? To tell his friends to do more?
“Take it easy, baby. We won’t let him eat you.” Samuel took her hand between his. “Unless you want him to.”
Yes, please.
Was she breathing hard? How could she not? The air around them, still glittering with the stars, heated up, cocooning her in warmth that was more than mere air. It had a tangible quality to it as though she could feel their need.
Quickening her pulse, Samuel put her palm to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to her flesh. When Morgan’s tongue flicked over her earlobe, her heart beat even faster. Then, when Damian traced a path along the curve of her jaw, she was sure she’d pass out.
Was it finally happening? Were they making moves on her?
For one awful moment, she feared they might be making fun of her as they’d done so often when she was younger. Teenagers to her tween, they’d teased and taunted her. But this was different. Real. Sexual.
She felt herself fall back as though to invite them to take her. If she’d had the words to beg them, she would have.
They moved closer, three men fighting to be the closest to her. She slipped her fingers into Morgan’s hair and pressed a palm to Damian’s chest. Parting her lips, she got ready for their first real kiss.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
At once, the stars were gone and the overhead lights flicked on. The men jerked back with Morgan growling as Damian and Samuel got to their feet. Brooklyn sat up, aware that the top five buttons of her shirt were undone.
“I stepped out to grab my computer.” Reagan clutched her laptop to her chest. “I promised to show her some photos. Shit.”
A still-scowling Morgan stalked over to his sister. “Didn’t you catch a scent of what was going on?”
Brooklyn buttoned her shirt and stood, thoughts spinning wildly. “Um, I, mean…” Yet the words wouldn’t come. She had to get away. The awkwardness was too much to bear. “I need to go.”
“No, sweetness, don’t leave.”
Hearing the pleading tone in Damian’s voice, she almost stopped. But she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she’d beg to stay forever.
“He’s right.” Reagan reached out and almost dropped her computer. “Don’t let my screw-up make you leave. Things were finally getting somewhere.”
Oh, shit. Stop talking, Reagan.
Yet, although Reagan was right, she couldn’t bring herself to stay. Instead, she hurried toward the front door, scooping up her purse as she ran. “It’s okay. I really do need to go.”
She was out the door and down the steps as fast as she could go. Only Samuel’s magic could have made her move any faster.
* * * *
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” demanded Damian. He rarely lost his temper, but he was close to losing it now.
“How the hell was I supposed to know you three were going to make a move on her tonight? You could’ve clued me in, you know.” Reagan set her laptop on the coffee table.
“Clue you in? What more did we have to do? There were stars in the living room, for fuck’s sake.”
“Samuel’s right. I would’ve thought you’d get a clue from the stars. What else did you want? A sock over the lampshade?”
Morgan snarled, then flopped onto the couch. “It’s done now. You couldn’t have run her off faster if you’d put a shotgun to her head.”
“Okay, okay.” A frustrated Reagan ran a hand through her hair. “Message received. I fucked up. But I can’t do anything about it now. She’s already gone.” She whirled around and stalked to the window. “Hell, she laid rubber getting out of here.”
“Tell me, Reagan, don’t you want Brooklyn to be our mate?” Damian knew as soon as the words were out that he’d made a mistake.
Morgan was on his feet, his sister’s protector. “What kind of shit are you saying now? They’re best friends, for fuck’s sake.”
“Damian, you know you’re way off track with this.” Samuel stared at his friend, obviously more confused than angry.
As much as he wanted to take it back, he couldn’t. Both the wizard and the werewolf didn’t realize how much emotions affected people. Not like he did. He’d had decades longer to understand them.
“Are you serious?”
The hurt in Reagan’s voice stung him. “I’m only asking to be certain.” He felt the other two men grow closer, one ready to shut him up with a spell, the other ready to tear his head off.
“So? What’s your answer, Reagan?” He pressed her, surprised by her silence. “Are you against the idea?”
Samuel caught on quickly that there was real reason for his question and shifted toward Reagan. Morgan, acting a little slower, finally looked at his sister, his anger fading to disbelief.
“Tell us, sis,” ordered Morgan. “Speak up now or forever hold your peace.”
Yet, as much as Damian had expected one answer, he got an unexpected one in return.
She glanced down then lifted her gaze to them. “Damian, you might have a point.”
Chapter Three
“You’re kidding.”
Reagan grew on her werewolf’s courage and met her shocked brother’s gaze. He hadn’t expected her answer any more than Damian or Samuel had. “I admit it. Part of me is scummy enough to be jealous of her.”
“Why?” Samuel took her hand. “Why?” he repeated.
“Because I haven’t met anyone yet. Don’t you think I want to be loved, too? All these years and I’ve never even had a boyfriend.”
“We figured you didn’t want one.”
Samuel’s pitying look was more than she could bear. “I didn’t. Not really. Not if I didn’t think he would be one of my mates. But don’t you get it? Brooklyn’s always had you. Maybe you didn’t know she was your mate and maybe she thought she’d never get that lucky, but I’ve always known you four would end up together. I sensed it back when we were kids. You three were as much hers as you are mine.”
“Shit, Reagan. We had no idea,” offered Samuel.
She tried to hold back, thinking she’d already said too much, but couldn’t. “It’s hard knowing she’s had you for years and I’ve had no one. Don’t you know how much I’d love to find my own mates? Hell, I’d even take three men who were as hard-headed and fucked up as you three.” Thankfully, her joke eased the tension between them.
“Reagan, you know they’re out there.” In a rare show of emotional support, Damian pulled her against him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “It’s taking longer for you, but you’ll find them. I promise you they’ll come.
Until then, know that the good things are worth—”
“Waiting for.” She smirked. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. But how long is too long? I want a family and kids, and I’m not getting any younger.”
“Listen to him. Sometimes the vampire’s actually right,” joked Morgan. “Besides you have a family.”
“Damian’s right. Definitely,” added Samuel.
“You know what I mean. I want my own family.”
“And you’ll have one,” asserted Damian.
Suddenly, she tried to hold back the tear that was ready to fall and failed. She wiped it away. “How do you know? Are vampires matchmakers? Can you see the future?”
Damian shook his head. “No. But I don’t need any special powers to know the truth. You’re an amazing woman, Reagan. You’re beautiful and smart. Any man would be proud to call you his mate.”
“Any man would?”
What about you, Damian? Would you be proud to call me your mate?
She studied him, wondering if he could read her mind. If he could, then he’d know. She’d wanted him for years but had always known his heart belonged to Brooklyn.
His eyes narrowed. “Yes, any man. Me included.” His hard look relaxed, a sadness filling the silver eyes. “But we don’t choose who we fall in love with. You know that.”
She lowered her gaze, understanding what he meant. He loved her, but only as a sister. “Maybe you can compel me.” She met his gaze again, needing to see that he understood. Could he compel her to forget her feelings for him?
“No. I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“What are you two talking about?”
She heard the confusion in her brother’s tone and sensed Samuel’s in his silence. But she and Damian had kept their secret far too long to bring it to light now.
She searched Damian’s eyes again. He remembered, all right. A year after Brooklyn had left town, she’d begged him to compel her to fall in love. But something had gone terribly wrong. Instead of falling for the human man she’d believed would make a good mate, she’d moved her attention at the last moment and had centered Damian in her sights instead. He’d quickly realized what had gone wrong and reversed the compulsion. They’d never spoken of that moment.