“You’re a shape shifter. Suck it up. Besides, we couldn’t very well do ninety into the garage. I doubt Jet and Lilly would be pleased if we smashed into their cars,” Nero’s other brother, Malone, put in as he tossed Nero a bag.
“It would be funny, though. Seeing Jet’s eye start twitching,” Devin laughed as he grabbed his bag. Jensen, a friend of the brothers, grabbed his heavy duffle bags from the backseat of the Jaguar and slid one over his right shoulder. He followed them through the garage. He was more dressed up than the others in a dark jacket, dark slacks, and a white shirt. Jensen had been an orphan the Deverells had taken in many years ago. Jet and Lilly had saved both Jensen and his sister — getting them out of a country on the brink of war — and he repaid them with unwavering loyalty. He traveled with the Deverells around the world, acting as Jet and Lilly’s global eyes and ears. They reported odd happenings and fought back against any plotting or machinations they came across.
It had been years since the Deverells and Jensen had returned to the mansion. When Lilly called them with news of Roan’s return, they knew it was time to come back. Strange things were happening, and Roan’s resurrection seemed to herald the start of something big.
“I’m going to find Jet and Lilly and let them know we’re here,” Ajax said as he opened the door to the mansion.
“I’ll go with you,” Malone offered.
“I’m going to get settled in. I’ll meet up with you later,” Jensen mentioned as he made his way toward the main stairway. He had been dealing with an enormous amount of grief for the past few months and there were times he craved solitude. The Deverells found it was best to let him come around on his own.
Jensen jogged up the stairs and made his way toward the room he usually stayed in when he lived at the mansion. Everything was the same in the enormous dwelling, which was both a good and bad thing in Jensen’s opinion. He ran a hand through his soft brown hair. His entire body was tense and he was exhausted. He was looking forward to being alone for the night. The past couple months had been particularly hard for Jensen and he wanted to forget them.
He shifted the dark green duffle on his right shoulder. It held weapons, some books, and other odds and ends. The other matching duffle contained his clothes, all of which were ironed and carefully folded. He was a bit of a neat freak when it came to his belongings.
Jensen turned down the hall that led to his room. He had his own place in town, but he wasn’t ready to return there yet. Jensen planned to spend at least a week at the mansion, just to take it easy and put the past year or so behind him.
“You have some goddamn nerve, showing your face here again,” an angry feminine voice growled from behind him. Jensen stopped and turned around. He should have known he would never get to his room without being stopped by at least one angry tenant.
A slender woman stood behind him, arms crossed in front of her. Her hair was as dark as Jet’s, and she resembled her father, only without the angry eye twitch. She was a little shorter than was typical for shape shifters. She was wearing tight blue jeans, a low cut burgundy top, and pointed tan boots, one of which was tapping the floor. She stood stiffly and he could sense the anger radiating off her.
Jensen squinted, trying to recall her name. He knew why she was mad at him, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him what her name was.
“Look, Mary …?” Jensen began, throwing out the first name that popped into his mind. He grimaced when she shook her head. Damn. “Hillary … Melanie … Tiffany … something with a ‘y’ right?”
“Hunter,” she answered in an exasperated voice.
“Oh wow, I wasn’t even close,” Jensen laughed. Hunter didn’t look so amused. It was just his luck the Monroes’ youngest daughter would hold a grudge.
“Anyhow, I won your cash fair and square. It is hardly my fault that you weren’t as good at poker as you thought,” Jensen stated, flashing his trademark charming smile. Normally, it melted people on the spot, but it only seemed to irritate Hunter.
“You also conveniently left out the fact that you were briefly a thief. You tried to pass yourself off as a normal protector,” she responded coldly. Jensen shifted the bag on his right shoulder.
“See, that was kind of my bad. I just assumed everyone here knew who I was,” he responded with only a hint of sarcasm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long few months. I’m very tired, so if you don’t mind . . .”
Jensen turned and continued down the hall, not bothering to wait for a response. He wasn’t up for a fight. After what felt like an eternity, he finally came to his room. Jensen pushed the door handle down and slipped inside the large room. He dropped his bags on the floor and looked around.
“Dammit, they redecorated,” he grumbled. “When did that happen?”
Jensen heard what sounded like splashing water coming from the back of the room. Reaching for his large knife, Jensen stealthily made his way to the bathroom. He knew it was unlikely an assassin or intruder had gotten into the mansion, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Jensen had spent most of his years dodging attempts on his life and it had taught him to never let his guard down.
He noticed the bathroom door was opened slightly. A cream-colored glow spilled out in the otherwise darkened room. Faint traces of mist lazily curled out, escaping from the humid washroom. Jensen arched an eyebrow, now intrigued more than anything. He carefully pushed the door open the slightest bit more.
In the bathtub, there was a beautiful woman with short dark brown hair. Jensen noticed a faint glisten to her skin. She was a guardian, but since when did guardians live in the mansion? Most of the woman was hidden by fluffy clouds of sweetly scented bubbles and her eyes were hidden under closed lids. Only her long legs, slender arms, and head were exposed. One of her legs was curved at the knee and her ankle dangled on the edge of the tub. Her arms rested on the sides of the tub and her head leaned back against a rolled up towel.
Hmmm, Jensen thought as he tapped the flat of his knife blade against his lips. He slipped the knife back in its sheath under his arm and moved into the bathroom. Using his natural stealth, Jensen gathered up all the towels and the satin robe on the floor. He moved back out into the main room, dropped them in a pile, and then swaggered back to the washroom. Opening the door all the way, Jensen walked inside and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, leaning his weight against the sink across from the bathtub.
Jensen watched the woman for a moment longer before clearing his throat loudly.
*~*~*~*~*
Jet and Lilly looked up from the papers they were reviewing when they heard a knock on the study door. The protectors exchanged a look. They weren’t expecting any visitors that night. Their daughter, Brindy, reclined on the chaise lounge. She had been engrossed in a book when she heard the knock. She straightened up, looking toward the door.
“Come in,” Jet called. The door opened and a man with cropped brown hair and bright green eyes entered. Jet and Lilly smiled, both rising to their feet and walking around the desk.
“Ajax,” Jet greeted warmly.
“How are you, my friends?” Ajax replied, embracing Jet. Malone entered shortly after his older brother. He smiled when he saw the protectors, hugging Lilly tightly when she approached him.
“It has been much too long,” Lilly said as she stepped forward to embrace Ajax.
“When did you get in?” Jet asked, hugging Malone. It had been years since they had last seen the Deverell brothers in person. They were some of their oldest and most loyal allies and friends.
“Just now,” Ajax answered as he embraced Brindy. “Brindy, you’re all grown up! I remember when you barely came up to my elbow.”
She laughed lightly as she jumped up and embraced Malone. Devin sauntered in behind his brothers, followed closely by Nero.
“Aw, don’t tell us we’ve missed out on the party,” Nero said jokingly, laughing when Brindy ran into his arms. “Good to be back in the old mansion.”
“
Where is Jensen?” Lilly asked, glancing between the brothers. Both she and Jet looked to the open door expectantly.
“He’s just gone up to his room. The months have been hard on the poor man. He needs to rest and recharge. Don’t worry, he’ll make an appearance at breakfast tomorrow,” Ajax answered. Jet’s smile gradually faded and he exchanged a concerned look with Lilly before turning his attention back to Ajax.
“His room?”
“Yeah, where he usually stays. Why?”
“Isn’t that—?” Brindy began.
“Brindy, would you please run upstairs and show Jensen to his new room?” Lilly requested as Jet ran a hand over his face.
Brindy nodded and bolted out of the room, leaving the Deverell brothers looking very confused. Jet looked back to them. They could only hope Brindy reached Jensen before he made it to his old room. That’s a situation that could turn quite ugly, Jet thought.
“There is much we need to catch up on. Please, have a seat.”
*~*~*~*~*
Isis had been determined to relax. It had been a stressful few weeks, or months, and her tense muscles were screaming at her. She was worn out from all that had happened. Isis let her mind wander, not thinking about the fact that she owed Steve and his new girlfriend a dinner since she’d had to cancel the last one.
Isis was dozing when she thought she heard her room door opening. She debated for a grand total of five seconds before deciding she was too tired to care. In the back of her mind, Isis was annoyed with herself for forgetting to lock the goddamn door, but she didn’t fixate on it. The water was perfect and unless the world was ending, she did not intend to get out of the tub. She jerked awake when she heard someone loudly clear his throat. Her eyes snapped open and she twisted her body to see who it was.
There was a tall, lean man standing by her sink. He looked incredibly debonair, more than any other shape shifter she had met. He wore a nice jacket with a light-colored shirt, dark slacks and matching shoes. The stranger relaxed against the sink — a stance that spoke of confidence. He had brown hair with a slight waviness to it. His sharp blue eyes sparkled with intelligence, a certain amount of mischievousness hidden in their depths. His hands were hidden in the jacket’s pockets and a half smile played on his lips.
“Well hello there,” he said with a charming smile, his voice deep and smooth with only a hint of a lingering British accent. “Would you mind telling me who you are and why you’re bathing in my room? Not that I mind.”
Isis shook off the stunned feeling and moved to righteous anger.
“Don’t you knock!?” she snapped, sinking a little lower in the tub. “Who the hell are you!?”
The man’s smile grew a little, which made Isis see red, and he shifted his weight. He crossed his left leg over his right, his hands still in his pockets.
“My name’s Jensen,” he said politely, going quiet for a few moments as he looked at her expectantly. “Okay, this is where you tell me your name. Unless, of course, you want me to call you the mysterious nude woman.”
“I’m Isis, now get out!” Isis snapped, her voice bouncing off the immaculate tiles. Jensen smiled even wider, unaffected by her shouting.
“No need to be rude. You’re the one who’s in my room,” Jensen replied calmly, sounding bored. Even his words were elegant, indicating he was highly educated. He craned his neck. “There wouldn’t happen to be room for two in there by any chance?”
“You are so lucky I don’t have anything to throw at you,” Isis warned, glaring daggers at the man. “And this is my room.”
“Your room?” Jensen asked. “Are you new or something?”
“Or something,” Isis replied, getting more and more aggravated with each passing moment. She looked around the bathroom, searching for a towel or her robe. “What the hell happened to all the towels? Where’s my robe?”
Jensen reached behind him and grabbed a hand towel from rack on the wall to his left. He tossed it to Isis, who easily caught it.
“You’re hilarious,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“And you’re using up my hot water, so chop-chop,” Jensen replied. She responded by dunking the towel in the tub and hurling it at him. He dodged but she managed to hit his shoulder with the wet projectile.
“Good aim,” he complimented as he tossed the sopping towel to the side. He reached up and brushed the stray droplets of water off his jacket, scrunching his nose. Just then, Brindy appeared in the doorway. So much for privacy, Isis thought as she tossed her hands up in the air and dropped them back in the tub in complete exasperation, unintentionally splashing herself in the face. She heard Jensen chuckle and wished she had a knife to stab him.
“Oh good. Jensen, I found you,” Brindy told him, breathless. “Um, you’re going to have to stay in one of the guest rooms.”
“Damn. I was looking forward to getting to know Isis,” he said with mock disappointment and she scowled.
Brindy glanced over at Isis, confusion clear in her eyes. “Isis, why are the towels out in the main part of your room?”
Jensen chuckled again. “Yes, Isis, what is that about?”
Isis glared at him. “You’re an ass!”
Brindy looked between the two of them. “Am I missing something?”
Jensen frowned as if in thought. “I don’t know. Isis, stand up.”
“Everybody get out of my room! Now!” Isis demanded. Jensen smiled as he followed Brindy out of the room. Isis waited until she heard the door close before she got out of the tub. She made her way to the main part of the room, her feet leaving wet footprints the entire way. Stray bubbles clung to her naked skin in random patches and she shivered against the chill in the darkened room.
Isis soon came upon the pile of towels, which was topped off by her robe. She grabbed the robe and wrapped it around herself, jerking the tie angrily until the knot was tight. Crossing the room, Isis locked the door. She held the back of her neck as she rolled it, trying to calm herself down. Jensen was one of the most obnoxious people she had ever met. Hopefully I won’t have to spend any measurable amount of time with him, she thought.
CHAPTER SIX
“No!”
Shae rolled her eyes as she followed Isis out of her room into the main hall. She had been trying for the better part of an hour to talk her irate cousin into coming to dinner later on. Electra wanted to see her uncles so Jet and Lilly had arranged a small dinner for that night. The hardest part was convincing Isis to attend, especially after the previous night’s incident with Jensen. The halls were mostly quiet. The entire mansion had been buzzing with rumor and speculation since Roan’s return.
“Come on, ice queen. You have to meet your uncles,” Shae protested, attempting to use the old nickname to persuade her cousin. It failed miserably.
“If he’s going to be there, I won’t be,” Isis said stubbornly. Shae ran a hand through her hair. She had to find some way to convince Isis to come to dinner. The Deverells were important allies and would probably be working closely with the Four.
“Just do what you always do during holidays. Ignore him,” she suggested. “Come on, Isis, please. Passion and Electra are going to be there. He’s not going to act like an ass around them.”
Isis spun on her heel. “Have you met him?”
Shae shrugged in response. “Briefly. We passed each other in the hall when I was coming down to talk to you. He seemed very polite, not to mention sexy.”
“He’s a jerk!”
“Isis, you can’t skip this. Steve’s going to be there. You promised him that you would meet Tracy. Come on.” Shae quickened her pace and moved in front of her cousin, blocking her escape and ignoring the irritated glare Isis gave her. “I promise you, Jensen will be on his best behavior. Even if he’s not, who cares? Are you going to let some random man rule your life?”
It was a low blow, but Shae was desperate. Isis dropped her shoulders and looked over at her cousin.
“One dinner and I don’t have
to see him again?” she asked tiredly.
Shae put her hand up. “I give you my word: one dinner, that’s it.”
“Fine,” Isis grumbled as she stepped around Shae and continued on her way. Shae smiled, pleased with herself. The hard part of her night was over.
Meanwhile, downstairs in the kitchen, Jet watched as Passion went through a cabinet, shuffling things around until she found what she was looking for: a bottle of red wine. Around them, the kitchen was alive with activity. A few different cooks were putting together the dinner that would be served later that night. The brightly lit kitchen smelled of a variety of different foods.
Passion put the bottle of wine on the counter and began going through the drawers. She had opted to wear a red sweater and black dress pants for the dinner. She refused to wear a dress when she wasn’t in the Meadows. Jet sat on a stool, elbows resting on the counter top. Passion nearly bumped into one of the chefs as she searched for whatever she was looking for. The chef easily sidestepped her, throwing a look in Jet’s direction. The sound of sizzling food filled the air and the warmth from the stoves kept out the winter chill.
“Passion, maybe if you told me —” Jet began as he watched Passion continue searching through the drawers.
“Where is your damn —?” Passion snapped her fingers a few times as she tried to think of the word. “Cork-popper?”
“The corkscrew is in the top left drawer behind you,” Jet replied. “Do you want to talk about his return?”
“No, I most certainly do not,” Passion said testily as she retrieved the corkscrew. She turned back to the wine and stabbed the sharp tip into the cork. Jet watched as she easily pulled out the cork with a loud pop and then tossed the corkscrew back into the drawer. She grabbed the wine bottle and poured herself a full glass.
“You know the problem with the Meadows?” Passion asked, pointing the bottle’s neck at Jet. He smiled and shook his head. Though it certainly wasn’t under the best circumstances, he was happy to have Passion around again. It felt like old times, before he had told her daughters about their heritage. Since then, there had been a certain amount of tension between them. It wasn’t obvious, but Jet could feel it. His betraying her trust had left an indelible mark on their friendship.
Through Storm and Night (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 2) Page 10