“Now,” he said, coming back over to her bedside. “I want you to drink this.”
He held up a small, reddish-brown plastic bottle that had Arabic writing on it.
“What is it?” she asked, taking the bottle from him.
“It’s ZamZam water,” Dr. Nasir replied. “Islamic holy water. You’ve been attacked by a jinn, a demon of some sort. I’m worried that you might have been temporarily possessed. I prayed over you, and I think you were able to fight it off. However, I think you also need to be cleansed and blessed, to have your defenses strengthened again.”
Ava shivered as she remembered the dream of the pale woman. It had just been a dream, hadn’t it? Or had she actually been possessed? It was too much to think about, too much to try and figure out at that moment. She didn’t feel full or sick anymore, but the idea of flushing herself with holy water sounded surprisingly good.
“Here’s to crime,” she joked weakly as she twisted off the cap and drank down the water. It had a mineral taste to it, but it wasn’t bad. It felt cool and good going down her burning throat. She handed the empty bottle back to Dr. Nasir, who smiled and patted her shoulder.
“Now,” he said. “I suggest you continue to hydrate yourself with regular water. I can trust you gentlemen to take care of that?” he added, turning to Robert, Declan, and Sean.
“Absolutely, doc!” Sean replied energetically. Ava groaned inwardly. Great. Sean seemed to be one of those guys who took everything two steps above and beyond. She’d be sloshing around like a water balloon if it was up to him.
“Then, I’ll be on my way,” Dr. Nasir said, nodding to Ava and the men. “Call me if you need anything else.”
After he was gone, the three men rushed to her bedside. Robert sat himself on one side of her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. Declan came to sit on the other side, holding her hands in his and kissing her palms. Sean sat down by her feet and pulled her legs onto his lap.
It felt so warm and so nice to be so totally surrounded by three caring—crazy, but caring—men. For a few moments, Ava let herself drift in the silence, finally taking stock of her surroundings. She wasn’t in her cottage, that was for sure. In fact, the bedroom she was in was larger than the entire cottage. She lay in a huge, dark wood four-poster bed with crisp white sheets tucked in around her. Across from the bed, a big, beautiful fire burned in a large stone fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the walls, with thick pine-green velvet drapes pulled halfway across them. There was an elaborately carved armoire in one corner, an antique dark wood writing desk in another, and a tall, ancient-looking chest of drawers in another. A worn Persian rug covered the wooden floors, and Chinese porcelain vases held fresh flowers.
“Is this your house?” she asked, finally breaking the restful quiet.
“Yes,” Robert replied. “Yours, too, if you want. We’ve had this room ready for you from the minute we met you.”
“Way to scare her, bro,” Sean muttered.
“That’s sweet,” Ava said hastily to dispel the thundercloud on Robert’s face. “A little freaky, but still sweet.”
The men laughed, and she was showered with kisses and caresses. For a long moment, she forgot everything that had happened that day and was only aware of the sensation of being surrounded by affection. Still, memories and questions would surface and intrude.
“What happened to the boat?” she asked Declan.
His face tightened, and his eyes shut down as he replied. “There was no one else there except for us, sweetheart.”
“No one or no thing?” Sean interjected fiercely.
“Now who’s doing the scaring?” Robert murmured, holding her tighter.
Declan sighed and shook his head. “I found no footsteps other than our own. Besides, nothing human could have shook or tossed the boat with such force.”
Ava shivered involuntarily and immediately found herself comforted and soothed. It was so amazing to feel so completely engulfed by caring. She couldn’t bring herself to call it love because it couldn’t possibly be love. It was just the affection that develops with physical intimacy. They didn’t love her, and she didn’t love them. Boston in a month.
These thoughts were depressing, but preferable to thinking about what had happened to her today. Suddenly, the day seemed so long. What time was it anyway? It was dark outside the windows, but night fell early this time of year.
“I feel like I’m in a museum or a in a Brontë novel,” she said, looking around her at the lavish room. “Is the rest of your house like this?”
“Wanna take a tour, baby?” Sean asked, ever ready for action.
Ava smiled at him, melting at the warmth in his golden eyes and stretching luxuriously as he rubbed her legs, smoothing out her sore muscles. She definitely wanted a tour, and maybe in the process, she’d get some more insight into the Molineaux brothers and their history. She opened her mouth to say yes, but a sudden, strange compulsion literally choked off her words.
Return.
The word was like a command in her head that stitched its syllables to her limbs. She had no choice but to obey.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Sean demanded, shaking her legs slightly to get her attention. “Guys, look at her. She’s gone all glassy-eyed.”
Immediately, Robert and Declan looked into her eyes, squeezed her hands, and touched her forehead to check for a fever.
“I’m…I’m fine,” she finally stammered. Her head was clear, and she was 99 percent sure she wasn’t possessed. She shook herself, as if to shed the compulsion that still clung to her.
“Are you sure?” Sean asked, reaching over and effortlessly lifting her into his lap.
Ava became very aware that she wasn’t wearing any panties. The only thing between her and the Molineaux brothers was one of their T-shirts. Apparently, Sean became intensely aware of this fact as well, as she felt him harden underneath her bottom. Her mouth went dry with desire, and the hunger burning in the brothers’ golden eyes told her she wasn’t alone in wanting to make slow love in this room that echoed centuries long past. What she was feeling now was one hundred percent pure Ava Bell. This desire was all hers, every human flutter of it.
Return.
This time, the command took her breath away. Every nerve in her body pulled taut, straining to obey.
“Ava, sweetheart,” Declan said, taking her hands. “Talk to us! What’s going on?”
“I have to go back to White Farm,” she heard herself say mechanically.
“No,” Robert said fiercely. “You are not going back there. Ever.”
“I have to,” she replied. “I can’t explain it. I have no choice. I just have to go back.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling yourself, baby?” Sean asked.
Ava wanted so badly to snuggle up in his arms and to surrender to the three of them and spend the night making love, but she couldn’t. The summons to return to White Farm was inexorable and irresistible. Against her own will, she began to push against Sean, struggling to her feet. She turned and looked at her three lovers.
“I’m very definitely me,” she said firmly. “But I can’t help this. I have to go back. Something is drawing me back there.”
“Those are the demons,” Robert said. “You can’t do what they say.”
“No, it’s not,” she replied as she involuntarily began to move over to where her clothes were lying over the back of a chair. “This is different.”
“You don’t know that,” Robert challenged.
“Yes, I do,” she retorted, retreating behind a screen with her clothing and quickly changing. “I feel it in my bones. It’s totally different. This is something else. I just have to go back. So, either one of you is going to drive me, or I’m going to have to walk through the woods to get there.”
As expected, her words produced the desired effect.
“No!” all three men cried at once, bounding over to her and pulling her out from behind the screen to hol
d her in their arms and touch her hair and face.
“I’ll drive you back there,” Robert said finally. He gave Sean a grim look that Ava didn’t understand, and Sean nodded in a wordless reply.
“I hope the boat wasn’t damaged too badly,” she said, turning to Declan.
“Nah,” he replied, grinning. “There’s some stuff to fix, but it’ll be a good project for long winter weekends.”
Ava smiled, but her heart was heavy. She didn’t want to leave them. She wanted to stay with them. She didn’t want this dream to end…well, the good parts with them, at least. All the spooky stuff could quit any time.
“All right,” she said with a sigh, squaring her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
* * * *
Robert kissed her fiercely on the doorstep of the cottage. The rain continued to beat down around them, but his arms engulfed her, and his warmth kept her from feeling the sting of the icy raindrops.
Ava devoured his possessive kiss, relishing the way he cradled her head, his tongue sweeping through her mouth, his body pressed tightly against hers. It was a near thing as to whether she would drag him inside and make love with him on the kitchen table. The hunger that he and Declan and Sean had awakened in her seemed insatiable, and yet, the compulsion that had driven her from their arms in the mansion even now pulled her toward the interior of the cottage.
“Good night, love,” Robert murmured against her lips, stealing small kisses and nips between his words. “Call us if anything happens.”
“I will,” she replied, smiling reassuringly up at him. “I’ll be okay, and if I’m not, I’ll call.”
Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and let herself inside. The cottage was dark and cold, and a heavy, damp chill hung in the air. She’d have to build a fire, but in the meantime, she turned on the electric heater and flipped on the lights.
Everything was in its place. Everything seemed normal. Even the shadows stayed put. She knew better than to think it would all stay that way, but this time, she’d be ready for it.
She jumped as a wolf howled outside, so loud that it seemed like the wolf was right on her doorstep. The hungry keening sent chills up her spine, raising goose bumps on her arms. Carefully, she crossed to the window and looked out, cupping her hands around her eyes to block the interior light.
A giant gray wolf sat in front of her cottage, its yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.
Chapter 14
Ava sat at the kitchen table, toying with her reheated lasagna and absently skimming the pages of a moldy copy of Jane Eyre she had found on the bookshelf.
It was almost nine o’clock, and all evening, the cottage had behaved itself. There was a big, warm fire going in the fireplace, her cell phone was charging in the bedroom, and there were breakfast dishes and coffee cups to be washed later. An ancient radio was chugging out big band classics. The storm had worsened, and the winds interfered with the satellite connection, cutting her off from television and Internet, but in some ways, she didn’t mind it. It reminded her of all the dark, quiet hours the people of her dissertation had back in the 1600s. Endless evenings with nothing but firelight—candles were precious resources and to be used sparingly and for important things like evening Bible readings. How far could one’s thoughts wander on a long winter’s night?
She found her own thoughts making their way across the dark forest to the Molineaux mansion. Yearning tugged at her heart, and the need to be near them was almost unbearably strong. She closed her eyes and could almost feel the heat of their bodies around her, their strong hands running over her skin, their burning kisses on her lips, their hard need pressing up against her pussy. A rush of arousal flowed through her veins, and her breath caught in her throat.
She wanted them so badly—all three of them, separately and together. Wasn’t that crazy? It felt more than good. It felt right. She needed them to complete her, to fill her body and her heart.
No.
No, she stopped that thought right there. She couldn’t fall in love with them. That would only be trouble, and in the end, lead to heartbreak for her. Hell, it was already incredibly painful to think of leaving them in a month. Anguish squeezed her heart into lurching beats as she tried to think of returning to Boston alone, leaving her three lovers in their cold, stone mansion on the haunted, rockbound coast of Maine.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to force herself back to focusing on the page of her book. Her body was still uncomfortably aroused and hungry for her lovers. One phone call could bring them over for a night of wild passion. Just one phone call…
No.
No, she wouldn’t do it. She would leave them be, keep this casual. She couldn’t do this to them or to herself.
She huffed out a sigh, speared a forkful of lasagna, and froze.
A coffee cup dragged itself across the counter, the grating sound of ceramic against Formica too normal for what was happening. The cup stopped on the edge of the counter, teetering half on and half off.
Adrenaline pumped through Ava’s body, and her heart pounded in her chest. She waited. Nothing happened. The soft crackle of the fire and low music from the radio were the only sounds in the room besides her breath.
Suddenly, every cabinet door and drawer were violently thrown open, rattling plates and pans, and sending the coffee cup on the edge of the counter crashing to the floor.
Ava’s heart stopped, and there was no air in her lungs to scream as she stumbled from her chair, falling to her hands and knees. A sob finally broke free as something slammed against her front door again and again.
She knew with an icy certainty that she was going to die.
* * * *
Sean didn’t think of himself as Sean when he shifted into his wolf form. He simply was. He was wolf, blood, bone, sinew, and instinct. In some ways, it was a relief to let go of the human Sean, the one who kept the faith in the old legends and kept his brothers from despair. He could just be for himself and no one else.
Except now, there was Ava. He existed now for her in all ways. He wanted her in all ways. Ava filled his heart and his soul, and she was the key to the legend. She was his to love and to protect, whether she knew it or not. She belonged to him and his brothers now. The way he and his brothers had all fallen instantly in love with her, and the way they felt in harmony with sharing her when they would never have dreamed of sharing another woman all proved to him that the legend was right. She was the one who could free them.
His heart warmed at the thought of her, but that was about the only thing that was warm as he sat in front of Ava’s cottage, the rain soaking through his fur to his skin and chilling him. He felt his tail thump twice at the thought of lying curled up and warm on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. No, wait, those were dog thoughts. He was a wolf. Even better were man thoughts, which had him lying curled up and naked next to Ava in her bed. A toothy grin spread over his face, and he licked his chops. He was the big, bad wolf, and Ava had great big eyes. His tail thumped, and he reached up with his hind leg to scratch his ear. Damn, he’d have to check for ticks after this. He sniffed his foot after scratching his ear and was about to lick it clean when he heard it.
It was a sound that no human ears could catch. Hell, he wasn’t even sure it was a real sound. It was more like a roar of thick silence that drowned out all the other natural noises of raindrops on leaves, branches in the wind, and the thrash of the ocean. Whatever it was, his wolf instincts had him on his paws and ready to spring.
Then, he saw it. The shadows that were darker than the darkness of the night oiled up to the foundation of the house and seemed to soak into it. Every muscle in his body tensed, and a snarl snapped in his throat. He listened carefully, waiting for the first sound of trouble. He didn’t have to wait long.
There was the sound of doors being flung open and china crashing. He barely registered Ava’s sob as he launched himself at the front door of her cottage, desperate to get inside and protect her. A red haze blurred his vision as
he threw his massive wolf body against the door over and over until the old latch finally gave way.
His rage fired his muscles and spilled out in growls and snarls at the black shadows that oozed over all the cabinets and across the floor to where Ava lay in a shivering, terrified, huddled heap. With a single bound, he landed in front of her, his posture tense and ready for the attack that he knew was coming.
The shadows gathered and swelled, forming a giant, grave-cold wave that rushed at him and Ava. He threw back his head and howled, the sound waves of the high-pitched keening forming an invisible shield against the darkness. He felt his deep connection with the earth and all the things the wolf symbolized. All that was pure and wild and strong in nature was focused in his howl. He was a predator and a protector, fighting for human life, for the human soul, for his beloved mate. He was the guardian of all that was good, natural, and mortal. He was the guardian of Ava.
He reared his head and howled again, louder and stronger this time, love for his mate and righteous rage filling the sound with a force that propelled it forward into the shadows, pushing them back.
Within moments, other howls responded to him, echoing his rage and his strength. More howls joined from further off. Hundreds of wolves screamed at the sky to drive Them back into the forest. The heavy roar of silence lifted as the shadows slipped away, slithering back into the woods.
He sensed Ava behind him, trying to get to her feet. The smell of her terror was a heady cinnamon. Damn, she was beautiful even when frightened for her life, pale with wide eyes and trembling lips. She stumbled back from him, and he realized that she was more scared of him than of the shadows that she couldn’t see.
Slowly turning, he looked up at her, willing all his love into his eyes for her to see. He wanted so badly to shift back into his human form, take her in his arms, and bury himself inside her warmth, telling her how much he loved her and feeling her wrap her light limbs around his body. That would frighten her even more, though. She was not ready to find out about werewolves. She would have to, soon, but not tonight. Not so soon after an attack by Them.
Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 10