Vixen Claimed

by Shyla Colt

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Shyla Colt

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-253-1

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Cheryl Harper

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  First and Foremost I want to thank the man upstairs for allowing me to somehow make my hectic schedule work. I am eternally grateful to my husband and my two girls who understand when Mom/Wifey has work to do. Without that I wouldn't be able to pursue my dreams. Last but never least to you reading. Thank you for your support, feedback, opinions and interest. It truly means the world to me.

  VIXEN CLAIMED

  Vintage Vixens, 1

  Shyla Colt

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  A loud pop startled Devlin from her impromptu rendition of “Walk the Line”.

  “Come on, Betty. Don’t do this to me.”

  A sputter and choke was her car’s response before it shut down. She managed to steer the raven black 1964 ½ Chevy Mustang onto the side of the deserted road before it gave a death rattle and all movement ceased.

  “Shit!”

  The plumes of dark smoke that billowed from beneath the hood indicated this wouldn’t be an easy fix. As the owner of an antique car, Devlin carried a make shift kit for minor car troubles. But duct tape and clamps wouldn’t fix radiator failure or a busted water pump, which were her best guesses at what had caused the spontaneous break down. She and her younger brother Jude had given Betty a once-over just last week. Still, there were always things even a mechanic couldn’t prevent or predict.

  Devlin Kavanagh wasn’t a grease monkey, per se, but she knew a thing or two about cars. To hear her mom tell it, that knowledge was one of the few positive attributes she’d gained from her father. Lieutenant Kavanagh was a veteran Marine who still swore like it was going out of style and had a gift for being a real hard-ass. He also possessed an abundance of charm and a killer sense of humor, two major factors in the almost legendary undertaking of winning her mother over. Their marriage was based on the fact that he needed to be reformed and she was just the woman up to the task. It was endearing though it led to heated arguments from time to time.

  She shifted the car into first gear and set the emergency break with a sigh. I should’ve known this weekend was too perfect. Devlin swung the car door open and stepped out onto four-inch, black and white peep-toe heels. The sand crunched underneath her with every step she took toward the trunk of the car.

  “Way to be a bitch, Betty,” she said. On her way home from a weekend photo shoot, Devlin looked like she had stepped out of a magazine. A black sateen dress crisscrossed over her thirty-six D cups and cinched in at the waist before it flared out. All of this had been great for pictures. Too bad it rendered her useless now as she wilted beneath the hundred-degree heat of the Nevada sun.

  Never one to roll in her own self-pity for too long, she opened the trunk to grab a blue rag and strode back around to the front of the car. Careful to avoid the heated metal, she popped the hood and felt her stomach plummet. It was the water pump. The hoses were cracked and the water that had pooled out beneath the car was self-explanatory.

  “Great.”

  She shut the hood once more before grabbing her black cell phone off the dashboard to place a call to AAA, and her brother Jude. Next to her father, he was the only one she trusted to handle her baby. She’ d gotten Betty when she turned sixteen, and just like Jude’s Chevy Nova , Nadine, it’d been a labor of love to get Betty just the way she wanted with help from her father.

  You’ve got to be kidding me! The no service message in the top right-hand corner mocked her.

  I’m in the middle of nowhere with no cell signal, in a cocktail gown. If it was night I’d swear this was a horror movie.

  Grateful for her snack purchases at the last gas station, she added the protein bars and bottled water to her purse, locked the car up, and began to walk. She thought she vaguely remembered seeing a tiny white building a few miles back. Let's just hope it's not abandoned or infested by zombies who’ll eat my brains and leave my family and friends wondering what the hell had happened to me. Yes, it was highly unlikely. But when you watched as many horror flicks as she had, your mind ran away with you at the most inappropriate times. A laugh bubbled out of her lips as she pictured her best friend Claire’s frown of disapproval. She could hear her now. “Dev, I don’t know how you can watch those and sleep at night!”

  Claire, a beautiful compilation of contradictions, was the only Roller Derby girl she knew who was terrified of spiders and horror movies. Devlin pulled out her ear buds, put her MP3 player on shuffle, and let the voices of the Austin band the Skeletons take her to another place.

  ****

  Thirty minutes later she read the words “Alpha Auto.” The white building was weathered and faded. Dingy paint was cracked and peeled. The garage attached on the left looked as if it hadn’t been used in ages. It didn’t inspire visions of safety, or shelter, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. Her heels seemed too loud against the cement as she traveled up sidewalk, the stairs, and inside the building in the quiet twilight of the day turning to night.

  The jingle of the bells announced her arrival and she gasped out loud as she took in the interior. I must have died and gone to heaven! Photos of vintage cars through the years lined the walls along with other miscellaneous dated items: old license plates, metal gas signs and posters from an era gone by.

  “Can I help you?” someone with a charming British accent asked. Devlin glanced up towards the sound and her jaw dropped.

  What she had expected to be an elderly man was one of the most stunning creatures she had seen in a long while. Clad in a navy blue T-shirt with a name patch that read Tristan, he was balanced on a set of silver arm braces. Not that they detracted from his appeal. She approximated him to be about six feet tall with dark hair that was shaved closed to his head, and piercing light brown eyes. His jaw was chiseled and his bone structure so fine it bordered on feminine.

  His was the kind of beauty that she’d expect from a Fae who’d come from the fairy world to tempt a maiden. His rugged five-o’clock shadow was the icing on the cake. Combined with his accent, the melding of traits made her knees threaten to wobble. It was a crime to keep him hidden away like this in the middle of nowhere. The icy air of aloofness that surrounded him only added to the imagery she’d formed in her head of a fairy king.

  “I-I’m sorry. You took me by surprise,” she said.

  One of her hands was placed over her heart in an unconscious imitation of a Southern belle about to swoon.

  “For a second there I thought my little walk in the desert made me hallucinate.”

  “Your car broke down?” he asked.

  The tone that had been chilly at best before turned warm with concern. He moved around the desk with a deftness that told her the arm braces were not a recent addition.

  “Yes, about a mile or two up the road,” she said as she wiped away the sweat that had settled on her brow.

  “We don’t have a tow truck here but we can call someone out to pick it up.”

  “Her.”

  “Pardon?”

  “My car, her name’s Betty.”

  The twitch of the
corners of his lip told her he thought she was a loon bag. She frowned at his quick dismissal and the words that flew from her made her cringe.

  “She’s a 1964-and-a-half Mustang. I think she deserves a title.” She wanted his help, not his animosity. It would have been better to hold her tongue but being mistaken for the average airhead was a pet peeve of hers.

  “That’s what you drive?” His eyes went wide with shock. “You’re in the right place then. All we do is classic car restoration.”

  “Seriously?”

  A bubble of laughter trapped in her throat. “Could this be any more tailor-made for her?” If she believed in that sort of thing, she would’ve taken her breakdown for a sign. Life had taught her early on that fairy tales and happily-ever-after were nothing but bullshit fed to little girls too young to know better. If there was such a thing as a soul mate, she’d met hers and found him unworthy of the title.

  “Yeah, let me go grab my partner and we’ll see what we can work out. There’s a phone behind the desk you can use. Most cell phones don’t get service in this spot.”

  With a nod she made her way over to the phone only to pause. Her brother would flip his shit if he knew she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with at least two men she didn’t know. She’d wait until she had a timetable for her car, and then she’d call Dahlia. Dahl was more than her best friend. She was her sister. She was also her brother’s off-and-on flame. If anyone could explain this to Jude without having him spontaneously combust, it was Dahl. Despite the fact that Devlin was three years her brother’s senior, his protective tendencies knew no boundaries.

  ****

  “What are you talking about?” Jace asked. Impatient, he shut off the sander and turned to face his best friend and co-owner of Alpha Auto.

  He’d meet Tristan when he’d been shipped off to a boarding school in England at seventeen. The two had bonded instantly over tales of their dysfunctional fathers and pranks that would have gotten them kicked out if they’d ever been caught. Thank God for Tristan’s logical brain. Jace was good at making mischief, not so- much at getting away with it. When Tristan’s professional soccer career had been ended by a horrific car accident he’d had flown over to help him get back on his feet and the idea of Alpha Auto was born. They hadn’t looked back since.

  “I said I think our dream woman is out front. Her car broke down a few miles back, and you’ll never believe what she drives,” Tristan said.

  “Well, we’re in Vegas. So, what? Is Barbie behind the wheel of a Corvette?”

  “Come on, Jace, you’re not even trying. A woman like that wouldn’t be someone I’d deem as our dream woman.”

  “We have a deadline to meet, Tris. I don’t have time for this.” Secretly, he was pleased to hear his friend was turned on by a woman. Ever since his bitch of an ex-wife had abandoned him when he began the painful journey of regaining use of his legs, Tristan had sworn off anything with a vagina. Not that he’d switched over to bat for the other team. He just became asexual, for lack of a better word.

  “Just humor me. You’ll have to stop working anyway to help her out.”

  “What? No, you do it.” he said, ready to push Tristan and the beauty that'd earned his praise together.

  “Trust me when I say you’ll want to help me.”

  “Tristan!”

  “Okay, shit. Her car’s a 1964-and-a-half Mustang.”

  “What?” Jace’s heart began to race as chills ran down his spine. The last time he’d seen that car things hadn’t ended well.

  “I think you’re right, Tris. This I need to see.”

  He removed his mask and set the sander aside before he followed his perplexed friend out of the garage. The site that greeted him made his mouth water. A black dress hugged a frame fraught with curves, and peep-toed heels showcased an expanse of well-sculpted chocolate calves. He licked his lips as his cock hardened and he cleared his throat. She turned to face them and his jaw dropped.

  “Devlin!”

  “Jace!”

  His heart threatened to jump out of his chest as his vision became tunneled. The only girl he’d ever loved was five feet away and all he wanted to do was wring her neck.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. His fists clenched at his side as he did his best to wrangle his anger.

  “M-my car broke down, and this was the only place close by. Why the hell are you upset with me? You’re the one who disappeared!”

  “Me?”

  Quick strides brought him over to her as she backed up, only stopping when her back was pressed up against a wall. Her eyes were wide and dilated when he placed his arms on either side of her body, boxing her in. He leaned in.

  “Don’t you dare take that self-righteous tone with me," he whispered, so close their noses practically touched.

  “I’ll take whatever tone I want, Jace Stein. I gave you everything I had and you threw it back in my face. I’ll never forgive you for that.” Her tone was low but her voice was laced with so much venom it would put a viper to shame.

  “Forgive me?! You cold-hearted little bitch—”

  “Whoa! That’s enough, Jason,” Tristan said, appearing by his side. “I think everyone here just needs to cool down.” He wrapped his hand around Jace’s wrist and tugged in an attempt to pull him away from Devlin.

  “Stay out of this, Tristan.”

  “Yes, Tristan. This is between the two of us.” Devlin seemed to gain momentum and strength from her anger as she pushed away from the wall. Her lips were suddenly millimeters from his, and for split second, insanity ruled as he entertained thoughts of leaning in to sample the sweetest mouth he’d ever known.

  “I’ve been waiting for years to tell you this.” She leaned in. Her hands gripped the collar of his uniform as she pressed her body against his. The smirk on her lips told him she felt his cock straining against his coveralls. Jace knew he should be disgusted and push her way. Yet he was powerless to do anything to break the spell she’d placed him under.

  “Jason Alexander Stein, you can go to hell.”

  The kiss she placed on his lips made him shiver. Devlin pushed away from his body and stormed out of the room. The bell above the door rattled angrily before the wooden rectangle slammed shut. He cursed himself for wanting more as a twinge of regret rose.

  “Aren’t you going to go after her?” Tristan asked as they watched her disappear out the front door.

  “Why? It’s not like she can go anywhere.”

  “Jace!”

  “After the hell she put me through, she’s lucky I didn’t throw her ass out of the building. This is the girl that ripped my heart out and stomped on it with the black combat boots I bought.”

  “She looked pretty torn up just now for a heartless bitch.”

  “We both know how well women can play a role.” The minute the words left his mouth, he cringed. He shouldn’t have brought Rachel into this. Funny thing about words, once they were out, he couldn’t take them back. Tristan winced as his eyes darted towards the door Devlin had exited and back to him. “It just doesn’t feel right, Jace.”

  It was bittersweet to have his best friend finally notice a woman and it be Devlin. A muscle in his jaw ticked as his conscience got the better of him.

  “Go after her.”

  “Ja—”

  “It’s okay, Tris.” Jace raked a hand through his hair and released a breath as he willed his body to relax. Devlin hadn’t been here more than fifteen minutes and she’d already bewitched his best friend, putting them at odds. He knew the dazed look well. He’d worn that very expression for years.

  Doubt crept in as he watched Tristan maneuver his way from the waiting area and out the door. Had he misjudged her somehow? Her brown eyes had been clouded over with pain. A scowl curved his lips. She’d played him for a fool once. Was he really going to give her a chance to do it again?

  After all this time, you still love her. That has to count for something. If nothing else, he needed to gain some sort of c
losure. He just hoped he hadn’t lost his chance to do that.

  Chapter Two

  Tristan’s heart pounded in his chest as he gave chase to the girl who’d wakened him in more ways than one. There’d been something in those soulful brown eyes that had gotten through the walls he’d built around him. He hadn’t been able to achieve arousal since his spinal cord injury, and the doctors had been unsure if the condition was physical or emotional. With one look at the bombshell, his cock had twitched to life and his balls had grown heavy for the first time on their own since the wreck. These days a hard-on took a hell of a lot of stimulation and the right mindset.

  Since the end of his sports career, which was followed by a bitter divorce from his wife, he’d been distant from women. Not that many of them showed any interest in him while he was in a wheelchair or his braces for that matter. Rachel had wanted him for his money and the prestige being the wife of an English football player brought. When the car accident had taken his ability to walk and scarred his body, she’d tripped over her own feet in her haste to leave their marriage. The realization that his entire life had been based on a lie had thrust him into a downward spiral. After a childhood with parents who cared more for their own pleasure and whims, Rachel was supposed to be his prize, the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel his life had once been.

  He couldn’t have been more wrong. Tristan should have known something was off when Jace didn’t like her. He’d met his wife before his career had taken off, so he’d felt secure in the assumption she wasn’t after him for his money or fame. Since his judgment was obviously flawed, perhaps he should proceed with more caution this time.

  Someone up there really must hate my guts. He’d spent months trying to get an erection going only to wish it was gone the moment he achieved it. Thank God the sun had set so she wouldn’t see it. She—Devlin stood a few feet away from the building with her arms wrapped around her middle.