by Jane Jamison
By feeling the connection, he should’ve wanted to move closer to her, but he didn’t. And he didn’t know why. His emotions swirled inside him. Why had the connection started fading? Were the Collinsburg brothers cock-blocking him both physically and emotionally?
Suddenly, Pamela pulled her hand away as he’d wanted her to do so. “I’m sorry, but I need…” She blinked a couple of times, her mouth working as though trying to find the words to finish her sentence. “I have to go.” She spun around and headed back the way she’d come, apparently forgetting that she’d been about to enter the coffee shop.
“Damn. She’s running from it.” Will started after her.
Troy snagged him by the shoulder, yanking him back. As Troy’s wolf had done earlier, Will’s roared to the surface, his fangs breaking through and his eyes filling with amber.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Wilder?” A growl followed the question.
Dillon grabbed Troy’s arm and yanked it off his brother. “Turn loose, man, or you’re gonna lose that hand.”
Troy could’ve easily let his angry wolf take over, but he resisted. Sensing the possibility of a fight, Shenna backed away, turning heel and hurrying off. “Never mind me. I’ll leave you three to talk.”
Troy hoped she wasn’t afraid. Shenna had found her mates, but she hadn’t been changed for long. She was still getting used to living with shifters in a shifter-dominated town. “Take it easy, guys. I’m only trying to keep you from making a mistake. Not to mention acting like damn fools.”
Will wasn’t one to like taking orders, much less being told he was acting stupidly. “You’d better start explaining.”
“You think she’s your mate, don’t you?” Saying the words was difficult enough. But it would be a lot harder if he had to tell Barrett and Justin that he was meant to share a mate with the Collinsburg men instead of with them.
“I felt it. The connection.”
“Me, too,” added Dillon.
“Are you sure?” Maybe they’d the same feeling he’d experienced. Maybe, even if they’d felt the connection, it hadn’t seemed very strong, either.
“Damn sure. No doubt about it.” Will frowned, catching on that something more was going on. “What are you getting at?”
“And you, Dillon? Are you sure? If you have any doubt—”
“Not a damn bit. I’m as sure as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow.”
Shit. Then why am I not as sure? Still, he forced himself to say what he had to say. “Good.”
“Why’d you stop me, damn it?” asked an irritated Will.
“You don’t want to scare her.” Troy dragged in a breath and searched the street for Pamela. She’d managed to get away. “In fact, I think you did. You saw how she took off.”
Dillon crossed his arms, following Troy’s gaze to the other side of the street. “Yeah. You could be right about that. Maybe we did come on too strong.”
“I guess,” muttered Will.
“Exactly. You two came at her like a train barreling off the tracks. Give her some time. Every mate needs time to get used to her surroundings first. She’s staying at one of the Carrs’s rental homes, so it’s not likely she’s going to be leaving anytime soon. Once she’s gotten settled, then you can try again.”
“You know that for sure?” asked Will. “That she’s staying at a rental house?”
“If what Shenna told me is right, then yeah.” Troy searched, trying to find the feeling again, but it was gone, almost as though he’d never really felt it to begin with.
“What else do you know about her?”
Troy almost held back from answering Will’s question. But if she really was their mate, he couldn’t keep them from her. At least, not for long. “Again, only what Shenna told me. Shenna said she’s some kind of model and she’s here trying to get away from it all.” The words sounded ridiculous, cliché, but they were the truth. “Her sister is here with her.”
“How long’s she staying?”
“I don’t know. Shenna didn’t say. You know as much as I do now.”
“Okay, okay.” Dillon stuck his hands in his pockets, his body relaxing, his wolf pushed down. “You were right to hold us back. Hell, the way I was feeling, I might’ve lost control. Shit, my wolf’s still howling for me to take her.” A muscle twitched in Dillon’s jaw as the amber in his eyes faded. “Thanks for that.”
“No problem.”
“Yeah, Wilder, thanks,” added Will. “Come on, bro. Let’s ask around and see if we can dig up any more info on her. Check you later, Troy.”
Troy nodded and stayed where he was as the brothers strode away, talking excitedly. The wonderful sensation he’d felt was long gone. In its place was an empty feeling.
Had he found his mate? But could he share her with the Collinsburg brothers? He figured they were good men, but they weren’t the men he’d wanted as fellow mates to their woman. A low growl escaped him. Still, if sharing her with them was the only way to have her, then that was just what he’d have to do.
* * * *
Mona hadn’t stepped ten feet outside the door of the High Tide Market when she felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Her hold on her bag of groceries tightened, thankfully hugging it to her body instead of dropping it. Her vision grew dizzy for a moment as she stumbled backward, off the sidewalk and into the alley beside the store. Pamela was headed her way when she suddenly darted across the street.
Sis! Help!
The thought came and was gone before she could voice it. Instead, a strange sensation swept over her, relieving the punched feeling with one she couldn’t describe. Her body burst alive, her pussy heating up faster than she could’ve ever imagined, her palms growing sweaty.
What the hell is it?
Slowly, as her knees weakened, she leaned against the brick wall and used it for support. It was either that or slump to the ground.
The sensation continued to hit her. At first, she’d been too stunned to feel anything but shock. But now? Now she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Her emotions ran wild, taking control of her. At once, she was alarmed yet excited, ready to run away yet ready to run toward…something.
But what? Or…who?
A part of her, hidden deep inside her, wanted her to move, to get going, to hurry before it was too late. But too late for what?
“Are you all right, young one?”
No. Yes.
Mona didn’t know the correct answer. Struggling to regain her composure, she pushed away from the wall and gave the elderly woman as big a smile as she could muster. “I’m fine.”
“Well”—the woman eyed her speculatively—“from what I see, you are and you aren’t.”
“What?” Mona figured either the woman wasn’t making any sense or her own brain had gotten screwed up.
“I’m Miss Clara, and folks around here listen to me.”
“Okay, but I’m in kind of a hurry. My sister—” She tried to step past Miss Clara, but the old woman could move faster than anyone her age should be able to move.
“Your sister is that pretty little thing. The model.”
Not that Miss Clara was actually asking. “That’s right. Pamela Frost. And I’m her sister, Mona Frost.” She would’ve extended her hand in greeting, but then she definitely would’ve dropped the bag.
“You don’t think you’re as pretty as she is.”
A punch of the emotional kind hit Mona. “I’m sorry?”
“You heard what I said. You’ve lived in your little sister’s shadow for far too long. Now you’ve got yourself believing she’s better than you.”
“Look, Miss Clara, I don’t mean to seem rude, but…” She swallowed hard and took a different direction. “Are you a psychic? A therapist? A guru?”
Miss Clara’s laugh was as light as a schoolgirl’s. “I don’t have to have any special powers or skills to know what I can see. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ll be able to see it, too. Nope. No special po
wers here. Just good old intuition. And good eyesight, too.”
What could she say? Miss Clara was right. Of course, that didn’t mean she’d admit it. “Okay. Um, it was nice meeting you, but I really need to find my sister. I saw her a minute ago, right before—” She stalled, unwilling to explain what had stunned her. Could she explain it even if she had to?
Miss Clara put a crooked, gnarled finger an inch from Mona’s nose. “You need to remember this. Not all pretty roses are as lovely as they seem. Roses have thorns, you know. Sometimes, it’s the blossom that thrives in the rose’s shadow that has the sweetest aroma.”
What a nice thing to say. She almost blushed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” Miss Clara lowered her finger until it was pointing at Mona’s stomach. “Best thing you can do is to pay attention to how you feel. Listen to your instincts, girl.”
Mona’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?” How had the woman known?
Glee lit in Miss Clara’s eyes. “You’ve already felt it, huh? Well, well, isn’t that interesting?”
“What’s interesting? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Could the old woman really be talking about the strange sensation? But how could she have known?
“Uh-huh. You will, young one, you will.” With another laugh, Miss Clara spun around as gracefully as a ballerina and hurried down the sidewalk.
Mona followed after her then stopped. The old gal sure could move fast.
The sound of Pamela’s voice caught her attention. When she turned toward the sound, her sister was already moving quickly away from a group of men. The men were handsome, dressed in a similar manner with worn jeans and cotton shirts. Cowboy hats shadowed part of their faces, keeping her from seeing their eyes well, but she could still see their cut jaws and strong cheekbones. One in particular, the tallest of the three, drew her attention as he took off his cowboy hat to drag his fingers through his thick, black hair. He had broad shoulders and a lean waist. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to grab hold of those shoulders and wrap her legs around his waist.
What the hell? What’s going on?
Alarm hit her, and she stepped back into the shadows.
Who are they?
And why is Pamela headed away from our car?
Again, the duality of her emotions came. Part of her wanted to run away. The other part, one that seemed to be growing stronger, wanted her to call out to the men, to tell them to stay where they were. She fought that part of her, sensing that if she gave into it, she would leave her sister stranded.
I have to get to my sister.
Mona took off, going as fast as she could. Once she reached their Range Rover, she clicked the door open then somehow managed to open the door and shove her bag into the backseat. After pulling her cell phone out of her purse, she slid behind the wheel and pressed the speed dial for her sister’s phone.
The phone rang.
Come on, sis, pick up.
More rings.
Sis, where are you? Pick the hell up.
* * * *
Pamela didn’t understand the sensation ripping through her. She could barely breathe, yet that had nothing to do with how fast she was walking. If she didn’t think it would cause a scene, she’d run. Instead, she hurried as fast as she could, all the while smiling at the people she passed. After all, being a supermodel meant never letting fans see you sweat.
The moment she’d seen the men and felt the rush of excitement, she’d felt something akin to electricity course through her body. At first, she thought she’d actually been shocked. But then she’d glanced down at the ground and had realized the bolt of energy was coming from inside her.
And when the handsome man with dark hair, a strand of it blistering white, had said her name? Nothing had ever sounded better. Not any acclaims for any of her photos. Not even the fantastic wash of happiness she’d felt getting signed to her first modeling agency compared. She might’ve flung herself at him if fear hadn’t come fast on the heels of elation.
She couldn’t remember whatever she’d said or whatever he’d said. Instead, she’d stared at him then at his brother. She couldn’t take her eyes off them. She had, in fact, wanted to beg them to take her right there, on the sidewalk, in the middle of town with everyone watching. Thankfully, modeling had taught her how to master her emotions.
But not for long. No, not for long.
And that, the unfamiliarity of a loss of control, is what had sent her fleeing down the sidewalk.
Even now, she thrilled at the thought of them. Dillon’s deep, rich voice and white-streaked hair. His brother, Will, with his dark, sultry eyes. Her pace slowed, her body screaming at her to turn around and go back.
If only the ringing would stop…
Damn. My phone.
“Mona? Where are you?”
“Where am I? You’re the one who didn’t come back to the car. I saw you running down the other side of the street.”
“Yeah.” She stopped and looked around. “I’m not sure where I am, but if you saw the direction I was heading, then just go that way.”
“Fine. Stay where you are. I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay.”
“Are you all right? You sound funny.”
So do you. “I’m fine. Just come and get me.”
“I’m on my way. Don’t go anywhere. Not for any reason.”
“I won’t.” Yet when she glanced around again, half-expecting to see Will and Dillon headed her way, she had to wonder what she’d do if they came for her. Take off running again? Or let them catch her? “Just hurry, okay?”
“I will, Sis.”
Mona ended the call, the sudden silence unnerving Pamela.
Chapter Four
Should I say something?
Pamela took a quick look at Mona then brought her attention back to the road. She wanted to tell her sister what had happened and how she’d felt, but finding the right words was proving difficult. She’d always confided in Mona. Her older sister had always been her rock, her sister-pseudo-mom, the person she could trust and rely on without question.
Thankfully, Mona was the one who spoke first. “The weirdest thing happened.”
“Yeah?” Pamela tried to sound nonchalant, but failed. Then it hit her. “You didn’t have another one of your spells, did you? If you did, you need to tell me.” Ever since the day that the wolf had attacked Mona, Mona had started having pains in her stomach. No one knew why she still hurt long after her wounds had healed, not even the doctors. Yet, Pamela had wondered if there was more to it. Often, her sister got a wanderlust look in her eyes, as though she were seeking something but had yet to find it.
“No, I’m fine. I haven’t had one in quite a while.”
Pamela studied her sister, trying to tell if she was hiding the truth from her. Mona was a strong person, and she didn’t like to tell Pamela whenever she was hurting. “Then what happened? What was so weird? I had—”
“You had what?” Mona’s hands gripped the wheel harder as she narrowed her eyes at Pamela. “What’s going on? Did something happen to you, too?”
Damn. “Yes. Sort of. But you go first. What’s up?” Maybe once Mona got to talking she’d find the best way to express whatever it was she’d experienced. Although it had only been a short time since they’d driven out of Forever on their way back to the rental house, she hadn’t been able to think of anything except Will and Dillon.
What was it about those guys? Sure, they were good-looking, but she was used to good-looking men paying attention to her. Judging by the clothes they wore, they weren’t rich. And, since she didn’t recognize them, they couldn’t be famous, either.
Two strikes—or is it three?—and you’re out. But if that’s true, if they already have strikes against them, why can’t I get them out of my mind?
Mona’s expression tightened, her scrutiny back on the road as a frown overtook her face. “I’m not sure how to say this.”
“Do what you always tell me to do. Don’t think. Just say it.”
Mona worked her hands back and forth on the wheel. “Okay. I will.” She drew in a deep breath. “I went to the market, and when I came out, I kind of had this freaky thing happen.” She frowned. “More of a sensation, I guess, than something actually happening.”
“What kind of freaky thing? Or sensation? Or whatever?” Pamela tried to curtail her excitement. Had her sister felt something similar? Could the both of them have had the same kind of odd emotional experience?
“I’m not sure how to explain it, but it was kind of like I’d gotten punched in the stomach.”
Disappointment flooded her. “Oh. Like someone had hit you?” That wasn’t the same thing she’d gone through. Her experience had been thrilling, yet scary. Exciting, yet unnerving. Not like she’d been punched, but more like she’d been taken for a wild ride.
“Yes and no. Maybe getting punched isn’t the best way to say it.” Mona chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t know. It was a really strange feeling. Kind of like getting stunned by a Taser. Or at least what I would imagine getting stunned by a Taser would be like.”
Pamela’s excitement was back with a vengeance. Then again, maybe their experiences were more similar than she’d thought. “Was it like getting struck by lightning? Sharp and fast? But in a good way? Not like the pains you’ve been having, right?”
Mona turned to face her so fast that she almost swerved the car off the road. She corrected her mistake quickly enough. Her eyes sparkled with an excitement that rivaled Pamela’s. “Yeah. Like a good thing. At first it kind of hurt, but the pain left fast enough. And it didn’t feel like the other kind of pain I get. After it went away, it was more like I’d just gotten—”
“Turned on. Like big time turned on.” Electricity mixed with a primal urge that had been amazingly strong. And compelling. Yeah. Compelling her toward the men.
“Oh, crap.” Mona gaped at her. “How’d you know?”