Linked (Prophecy Book One)

by Welsh, Hope

“That could get me into some trouble, huh?” he teased, trying to ease the tension on her beautiful face.

  She grinned. “Well, you won’t be able to keep things from me, that’s for sure,” she said with certainty as she touched his face. “I guess I’m not so afraid any more.”

  “Good. I hope you didn’t plan on getting out of a bed for a while, because I have plans for you,” he said as he thrust against her on a renewed surge of desire. He watched as her eyes darkened on a moan.

  She stretched up and nibbled on his ear, her answering smile bright with feminine power. “Promise?”

  §§§

  Cole awoke several hours later. He smiled down at the woman sleeping next to him. What have I gotten myself into here? He wondered if he’d ever be able to let her go.

  But this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He was better off alone, wasn’t he? Did he really need the complications a relationship would undoubtedly bring?

  He brushed the hair from her face, letting his fingers linger a moment longer than necessary. God, he loved her hair, the feel of her skin. The way her dark lashes rested against her cheek made her look so fragile and vulnerable just then.

  She was a paradox. Prickly one minute, sweet the next. Scared, then fighting mad. And, damn it, sexy as hell—whichever part of her happened to be on the surface. Mufti-faceted. That term fit her best.

  The question remained—what did he do with her? How could he let her go? Did he want to let her go? The questions ran through his mind, over and over. If he didn’t decide soon, they might drive him crazy.

  Not that it mattered yet, keeping her safe and whole did. Thoughts of the threat made him stiffen. He needed answers, and he needed them now. If he didn’t find out what they were up against, he’d have no way to battle it, but something told him she had a part of the fight. Her abilities would have a role to play.

  With a sigh, and still no answers to any of his questions, he slid his arm under her, pulling her close as he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him again.

  §§§

  Who did they think he was? Mortal, like them? He had known of this battle for millennia, whereas they had known of it only days and still, they did not fret.

  It infuriated him.

  Did the mortals not realize how precarious their position in this world really was? How could death not be something these mortals feared? Or did they choose to ignore it in the hopes that it would go away? Perhaps they thought him merciful.

  The woman and her shifter protector remained the only obstacles left in his way. The Druids had paid for their treachery. Now these pesky humans would pay as well.

  He could have disposed of them as he might a bug, making their deaths swift and painless. It would have been over in a blink of an eye, but there would have been little enjoyment in that.

  A quick death would be wasteful. Tasting their fear—and blood—would be more pleasing. He demanded that satisfaction.

  The Evil One paced. In just a few hours’ time, the mortals would be standing in his way no more. His name would become the meaning of fear before their end.

  No one would stand in the way of his power and nothing would stop his reign of terror.

  A cold smile touched his lips. Yes. Soon their time would end, and his as ruler would once again be at hand.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cole woke her several times during the night, his hunger for Lana nearly insatiable. Each time, though, she opened her arms to him as if there were nowhere else she’d rather be.

  He’d loved her gently the first time, but each time after had been hotter and more erotic. She had never lost her responsiveness, he mused, watching her sleep.

  Cole knew he was lost. No point trying to deny it or logic his way out of it. She belonged to him, even if she didn’t know it yet. He’d not only loved her, he’d mated with her. Would she be ready for that?

  They had a powerful connection between them, and somehow he knew that connection would be important. And much more than just physical—the connection had a strong mental element to it, too.

  But, she was wary—he knew that, too. He’d take it slow, he decided. And give her time to get used to the idea.

  Just looking at her made him hard again. He shouldn’t want her again, but he did. He’d made love to her repeatedly for hours. Now, she needed sleep.

  Restless, he climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her. He grabbed a pair of shorts from the chair and padded quietly into the living room.

  Before he could concentrate on their relationship, he had to learn more about the danger surrounding her. He was sure there had to be some clue left behind in her mother’s journal. No way could he believe her mother knew something of what was going on and didn’t leave her daughter any hints or clues. That made no sense.

  As much as he wanted to take a look at it himself, he knew diaries to be a private thing, and he didn’t want to read it without Lana’s permission. He could wake her up and ask her, but he decided against it. Morning would come soon enough.

  Still restless, he paced the small confines of his living room. Part of him wanted to shift and run. He couldn’t do that, though. Leaving Lana alone was out of the question—even if only for a few minutes.

  He heard a noise and cursed. He’d awakened her. “Hey, darlin’. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  Lana smiled sleepily and walked to stand next to him by the window. “You didn’t. I just knew I was alone.”

  He pulled her against him and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “What’s wrong, Cole? I can feel your mind whirling a hundred miles an hour.”

  Well, that was one way to keep you honest, he mused. Date a psychic. “We need answers, Lana. I want to read your mom’s journal. May I?”

  “Of course,” she said and nodded. “But I don’t think there’s much in there. She’d started dabbling in awful poetry recently. I really don’t know how much help it will be, but I’ll go get it.”

  Cole watched her as she walked toward the bedroom. She’d pulled on one of his shirts. They never looked that good on him. For half a minute, he considered reading the journal in the morning and following her back to bed, but he stopped himself.

  There would be plenty of time for passion. First, they needed answers.

  She came back out a minute later, her hips swaying as she moved, making the shirt ride up and…. He shook his head. Later.

  “Here you go,” she said and handed him the leather bound journal. “I just don’t think it’ll help much.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Can you fix a pot of coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  Cole sat down on the couch with the small book and started to read. Random stories of Lana’s escapades as a child, and a teen, and then her accomplishments as an adult filled the first half of the book. Later, written accounts of the things she’d seen and felt. He could only imagine the pain from some of them and the sense of helplessness.

  About three quarters of the way through, though, the entries began changing. The writing seemed to turn urgent. The words jumbled together. Much of it was, as Lana had said, apparently just bad poetry.

  One line caught his eye and had him sitting forward.

  Two become one and one becomes two.

  There was nothing else on the page. Did it mean something?

  Distracted, he didn’t hear Lana come back into the room with the coffee until she stood in front of him holding the cup out. “Oh, sorry,” he said and took the cup from her, sipping the hot brew.

  He waited until she sat down then showed her the passage. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

  Lana read it, her brow furrowing. “Not really. I just figured it was a poem she never finished. Why?”

  Cole shrugged. “It just struck me in a weird way. I seem to recall something similar that my grandfather told me years ago.”

  That got her
attention. “Really? Do you think there’s some connection between what’s happening and our families?”

  That was just it—he didn’t really know what to think. But he would damn well find out. “I’m not sure, Lana. But since we’re both awake and it’s almost morning, why don’t we go see my father? I want to see if this means anything to him.”

  “It’s not too early?”

  Cole glanced down at his watch and laughed. “My mom is up at five every morning, and Dad goes out for his daily run,” he explained. One thing his folks couldn’t be accused of was being spontaneous. “No, it’s not too early. By the time we get there, it’ll be lunchtime for them.”

  “And you’re sure they won’t mind your bringing a strange woman to their home?”

  He shook his head and ruffled her hair. Her tone made him wonder if she didn’t want to go. “Don’t worry, they’ll love you as much as I do,” he assured her with a grin. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud—hadn’t known he felt it until he’d said it. Now that he had, he waited to see what her reaction would be.

  The color fled from her face quicker now than it had when the wolf had vanished in front of her. “What?” she croaked.

  “You heard me, Lana. I love you,” he said seriously. “I know it’s quick, and really unexpected—on both sides, if you want the truth—but I know what I feel.”

  Lana stood up and paced. She paused as he came up behind her and didn’t turn around until he pulled her into his arm, resting his chin on her head. “Are you sure?” she asked against his bare chest.

  “I’m very sure. You’re mine. I planned to give you time to get used to the idea, but to hell with it.”

  She pulled back and stared into his eyes. “I wish I could say I didn’t need time, but I think I do,” she whispered as she lowered her head.

  Cole didn’t respond for a moment, wasn’t sure he could. After a long moment, he said, “Let’s get dressed.”

  §§§

  Lana watched as he walked from the living room. She knew she’d hurt him, and that was the last thing she’d wanted to do. All the events from the past forty-eight hours finally caught up with her. Everything had happened so fast. She barely had time to catch her breath, let alone think.

  She loved being with him—that she knew without a doubt. He made her laugh. As a lover, he’d been wonderful, fulfilling fantasies in the darkness that she’d not even been aware she had.

  But did she love him? Who was she kidding? She fell in love with him when he crawled through a window and searched her apartment for an intruder. Her own knight in shining armor.

  Was it fair to him? she wondered. What if she was more like her mother than she wanted to be? Already she could read his thoughts—though the fact that he loved her came out of the blue.

  Would he resent that down the road? She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t, if their positions were reversed.

  He probably thought the fact that he could shape-shift played a part in her concern, and to be honest, it didn’t even rank on her list of worries. It fascinated her, thrilled her. She’d read about shape-shifters in fiction and had wished they could be real.

  Would their children be able to shift if they had any?

  The thought was daunting.

  With a sigh, she followed him into the bedroom. She felt the chill as soon as she walked into the room. “Cole?”

  He turned to her, his brow rising in silent inquiry.

  “It’s me I’m not sure about. Not you.”

  He walked over to her. “Explain it to me, then,” he said with steel in his voice and eyes.

  He was frustrated. She didn’t have to feel it or hear it in his tone to be sure. His eyes would have told her, anyway. “Whatever ability this is that I have seems to be getting stronger, Cole. I can already read your mind sometimes. I don’t see that going away as we get to know each other more.”

  He laughed at that. “So? I’m not worried about that, Lana. It’s part of my attraction for you. And I think you could train yourself to block it out, if it’s that much of an issue.” He grabbed her hand. “I think we’re meant to be together. I don’t believe in coincidence. I think we were meant to meet.”

  Lana shivered. She’d been wondering the same thing herself. “I do, too.”

  He pulled her hand and brought her against his body. “Give us a chance, Lana. If you don’t love me, that’s one thing. And I know my being a shape-shifter is a lot to take in, but—”

  Lana punched him. “It’s not that, you idiot. I already love you!”

  Cole brought her hand to his mouth. “Don’t hit me. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  She laughed now. “This is crazy. You know that, right?”

  He sobered. “No. It’s meant to be. I feel it. We belong together.”

  “Then we’ll see where this leads us.”

  “Good. Let’s get dressed and go. If we hurry, Mom will have food ready. I’m hungry.”

  “Are you always hungry?”

  His eyes darkened. His smile, slow, sly, and a little feral as he pulled her to him and kissed her hard and deep. “Always.”

  §§§

  They drove to his parents’ home in comfortable silence. Cole knew there had to be some connection between the two of them, if not their families.

  Finally, his childhood home came into view. The better part of his life had been spent in the house.

  He remembered the first time he’d shifted. His parents had been utterly speechless. They had given him a good three-hour lecture on the responsibility of it, too, he recalled, followed by numerous warnings and reminders not to shift outside of the house.

  He had, of course. How could an eight-year-old be expected not to shift? It had been the coolest thing since…whatever he had thought was cool back then.

  As he pulled into the driveway, he noticed the color of the house had changed. It had been white the weekend before. His mom must’ve made his dad paint it finally. Looked good, he thought with a slight nod as he put the car in park. He’d always loved blue.

  “We’re here,” he announced.

  As he unbuckled his seatbelt, he saw her nod and swallow before looking at him. “You’re sure they’re not going to mind an uninvited guest?”

  He laughed. “No.” Knowing his mother, she’d be ecstatic. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s see if we can’t get some answers.”

  Hand in hand, they walked to the front door. Cole had just raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist reached the door. “Cole!”

  Cole grinned and released Lana’s hand to pull his mother into his arms. “Hi, Mom. We came for breakfast—it’s not too late, is it?”

  Mrs. Thomas grinned. “It’s not too late. Come on in. Who’s your lady friend?” she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

  “Lana Summers. Lana, Claire Thomas,” Cole said with a grin, slightly pushing her forward. He knew that gleam in his mother’s eyes. She was already planning the wedding. “Dad around?” he asked as his mother led them into the kitchen.

  “He’s showering, I think.”

  Cole nodded and sat next to Lana at the table.

  “You have a lovely home,” Lana commented.

  “Thanks. We like it,” she said with a smile. It quickly disappeared as she turned her attention to Cole. “What’s wrong?”

  He grinned. “Maybe I just wanted some home cooking?”

  Claire glanced at Lana. “He’s a stubborn boy. And a bit slow, thinking I don’t know when something’s wrong with my boy.”

  Lana smiled and looked at Cole. “I agree completely.”

  “Hey! Whose side are you on?”

  She shot him a look of total innocence. “Your mother’s, of course.”

  He shook his head. Before he could retort, his father walked into the kitchen.

  “I thought I heard a loudmouth.”

  “Hey, Dad,” Cole said. “Lana, my father, William.”

  The elder Thomas grinned. “Well, nice to meet you.”
<
br />   “Thanks,” Lana said, beaming.

  “We need to ask you about an old legend grandpa told me,” Cole explained as his father grabbed a cup of coffee. Knowing his father, it was at least his third.

  William’s eyebrow shot up. “What legend?”

  “She knows, Dad. There’s trouble,” Cole said quietly.

  William sat down next to his wife. “Start at the beginning.”

  Cole briefly outlined the situation to his father. Lana remained silent. “So, now, I need to know what you can remember about the old stories Grandpa used to tell about the shifter that could vanish.”

  Claire sat a bowl of eggs at the table and two more place settings. “Cole, it’s a legend. You know that. Shifters can’t disappear anymore than anyone else can.”

  Something in her tone made him question the truth of her statement, but he didn’t press it. Not yet.

  “The one we ran across can,” Lana said, finally speaking up.

  Claire sighed. “William?” she asked, her hands shaking as she sat down.

  Cole caught the look his mother exchanged with his father. “Okay, what’s going—”

  “There’s a legend passed down through the generations,” William began. “About an evil power that had been thwarted by the Druids. The way I heard it, from my father is that there are two pieces this…being is after. It’s with those pieces, and only those pieces, that it can be destroyed.”

  Cole looked at his mother, then back to his father. “Two pieces?”

  William nodded and sipped his coffee. “Two pieces. No one’s sure what exactly those pieces are.”

  “I need to find those pieces,” Cole said in a rush. “This evil shifter—whatever he is—thinks Lana has them. And if my theory is correct, her mother has already died for them.”

  “Stay out of it, Cole. He can’t be stopped.”

  Cole gaped at his mother, shocked by her words and vehemence. “Would you really expect me to leave her in danger?” He paused. “Why do you say ‘he can’t be stopped’? You two believe this legend, don’t you?”

  “It’s not that we—”