The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle

by Maree Anderson

  She poured Sam a coffee. “Here. Get this down you. You’re obviously caffeine-deprived ’coz you’re making no damn sense whatsoever.”

  “Thanks.” Sam took a sip, sagged back against her chair, and heaved a shaky sigh.

  Chalcey leaned her hip against the bench and swigged a good third of her coffee to bolster her courage. “It’s like this, hon. Just because I’m not into bonking men on a regular basis, doesn’t mean I’m not happy the way I am. Sure, I’d love a fabulous man to shack up with but I have standards. Quite high standards. And I’m more than happy to wait for someone who meets them to happen by. So don’t feel sorry for me, okay?” She pinned Sam with her best flinty-eyed glare. “And don’t use me as an excuse, either.”

  Sam eyed her over the rim of her cup, all big-eyed confusion. “Don’t know what you mean,” she said.

  Hah. What a crock. “I think the reason you’re so spooked is you like Marcus. As in reeeally like.”

  That got a really fine snort of derision. “Ray’s definitely more my type. Bet I wouldn’t have got any of that relationship shit from him.”

  “Yeah. Bet you would have got something else, instead. Like a nasty STD.” Chalcey tried really hard not to shudder. “And did you know he carries a knife? He pulled it on Wulf.”

  But rather than being duly horrified, Sam didn’t seem at all fazed. “Can’t say I blame him. That guy in your bed is quite capable of pulverizing even a buff guy like Ray with one arm tied behind his back.”

  “It was a freaking knife, Sam.”

  “So?” She shrugged. “My mother carries a gun. People need to be able to defend themselves. There are far too many weirdoes out there.”

  “People don’t carry knives to defend themselves, Sam. They carry a knife to threaten people with. What if he’d pulled it on me when I didn’t want to play? Would you have blamed him, then?”

  “Get real, Chalce. Guys like Ray don’t need to pull a knife to get some girl on guy action. It’s just an affectation. Goes with the whole bad-boy image, you know?”

  Sam was worldly-wise in many ways. In others, she was so damn naïve it freaked Chalcey out. Part of it was her upbringing. The obscenely rich, born to a life of privilege, never imagined that bad shit would happen to them. They drifted through life oblivious, believing themselves charmed. Sam was no exception.

  Unwilling to discuss Ray further, Chalcey focused on delivering the rest of her mini-lecture. “Whatever. I think when it comes to Marcus and his maybe-being-keen-for-more-than-a-one-night-stand, the teeny tiny part of you that’s a normal girl is doing the happy dance. Go on, admit it.”

  “Maybe.”

  Sam wasn’t going to budge. She was such a hardass. Chalcey would have to work on her a bit to make her see sense and give Marcus another chance.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t had time to eat last night and it was practically breakfast time. She popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. “So what did you do after Marcus made this heinous confession? Render him unconscious by some underhanded means, then leap out of bed and holler for a taxi?”

  “Not exactly.” Sam had the grace to appear embarrassed. “We, um, cuddled until he fell asleep. And then I snuck out of bed and caught a cab straight to your place.”

  “You stuck around in his bed after sex? With him?”

  She blushed—a moment which should have been preserved for posterity and hailed as one of the wonders of the known universe. “Yes.”

  “Sweet Jesus!” Chalcey grabbed at the countertop before she fell over from the shock. “You could really be into this guy. Like, he could be The One.”

  “Far too soon to tell. The potential’s there, sure.” Her eyes went all wide and shocky, like she hadn’t admitted that to herself before now, and saying it aloud made it true.

  “Whoa. What are you going to do if he calls you?”

  She sighed. “He won’t. I didn’t give him my number.”

  “And you’re unlisted.” Chalcey’s head was spinning from trying to follow Sam’s dodgy reasoning. Meeting a guy who could be The One. Having fabulous sex. Exchanging phone numbers. Dating on a regular basis. Next stop, giving happy ever after a really good shot. It wasn’t rocket science. “Never mind,” she finally said. “It’s not as if you can’t call him.”

  “I won’t.” Sam’s lips compressed into a thin, bloodless line.

  “Why the heck not?”

  “Because I’m so not interested in hooking up with a potential The One right now. As I said before, I’m having far too much fun being single. Why would I want to tie myself to one man?” Her lower lip quivered, belying her whole single and loving it stance.

  “Oh. Right.” Boy, Marcus had really gotten under her skin. She was running scared.

  The toast popped up. Chalcey buttered it and handed Sam a piece. Poor Sam. Oh how the mighty had fallen.

  She yawned and glanced at Mickey. She blinked, and peered at her watch again. “That’s the time already? Crap! I’m going to be invaded by workmen in a few hours and I’ve still got to sand the rest of the bloody filler and clean up before they get here.” She licked the last buttery crumbs from her fingers as she dived for the door.

  “I’ll wash these up then come help you,” Sam called after her.

  Chalcey stuck her head back through the doorway to eyeball the alien who had replaced her best friend. “You sure?”

  “I promised I’d help, so I’ll help.” Sam glanced down at her dress. Which had probably cost more than all the dresses Chalcey owned put together. “Can I borrow some old clothes?”

  “Sure. Help yourself to a t-shirt and shorts—which of course will be like, halfway down to your knees. But I’m sure the fashion police will forgive you this once. Just try to keep your hands off Sleeping Beauty, okay?”

  Sam gave her some excellent snarky face. “I’ll consider it. So long as you tell me what he was doing lying naked on top of you if you’re not interested in him.”

  She didn’t want to tell Sam what had gone down. It was too intense, too private. Too weird. “No more questions, Sam. I absolutely have to get all this sanding done before the workmen arrive.”

  “Hang on, I know I said I’d help but haven’t you already sanded the floor?”

  “I de-waxed it, scoured it, and then sanded it,” Chalcey corrected. And a shitful, thankless job it’d been, too.

  “Then why are we sanding it again if you’ve already done that?” Samantha Greenwood definitely wasn’t DIYer material.

  “We’re just sanding the filler.” Chalcey rolled her eyes at Sam’s doubtful expression. “Take it from me, it’s just another step that has to be done before waxing. Which I’d have also done myself, except that I’m running short of time and professionals can do it much more quickly than I ever could. And did I mention that I had to pay extra for them to come in on a Saturday? No more chitchat. Move it!”

  They managed the deadline with a few minutes to spare. While Sam showered, Chalcey vacuumed up the dust. Only then did it cross her mind to wonder who’d re-hung the sliding door into her bedroom.

  Duh. Wulf, obviously. She hid a grin. He hadn’t done a very good job of it, but at least he’d tried to make amends.

  And speaking of Wulf, her unexpected guest was still dead to the world. There went her fond hope that the workmen could hustle him off the premises. In all conscience, she could hardly ask them to lug an unconscious man down a couple of flights of stairs and toss him out on the street. And it was pretty cowardly of her to want backup when she asked Wulf to leave, but there it was. She had moments where she felt as though she could take on the world. Now wasn’t one of them.

  God. She sooo didn’t need this crap right now.

  A grizzled old guy and his younger offsider poked their heads into the studio. The workmen. Right on time.

  Chalcey figured she must have looked a real sight, all covered in yellowy dust. That and the fact she was still wearing her pajamas and hadn’t even got around to b
rushing her hair. Too late now. She fixed a welcoming smile on her face, prayed they both had strong constitutions, and ushered them inside.

  Before they got down to work, she coaxed them into taking a look at the sliding door. The two of them had it sliding back and forth on its runners in no time.

  “Hey, thanks. You guys are the best!”

  “No problem, ma’am,” the old guy said. “Easy when you know how.”

  Sam picked that moment to sashay from the women’s bathroom wrapped in a towel. “Why, thank you, gentlemen,” she cooed, making eyes at both men. “We girls do appreciate our privacy.” And with that, she zipped into the bedroom and slid the door shut.

  Chalcey hid a smile as the two workmen picked their jaws up off the floor. “Sorry about the peepshow.”

  The older man recovered his aplomb first. “Nothing to apologize for, ma’am.”

  Yeah. I’ll bet. Aloud, she said, “Where do you want to start?”

  He grinned at her. “How ’bout down the far end, so you can shower off the grime without us getting in your way.”

  She choked down a laugh. “That bad, huh?”

  He shook his head and mimed zipping his lip. “C’mon, boyo. Quit drooling over the pretty girls and let’s get to work.” He cuffed the younger man about the head and prodded him toward the stairs. “We’ll just grab the gear from the van.”

  Chalcey waved them off and leaned against the door to survey her studio. This was the last big thing that needed to be done. She was on the home stretch. All she needed was enough cash to take on Paulo and Leah, buy some decent office equipment and maybe a laptop that didn’t take ten minutes to boot up, invest in some more advertising, oh, and find herself an apartment, and everything would be sweet. She would have everything she’d ever wanted.

  Voices from inside the bedroom snatched her from her dreams of packed classes and financial security. Sam must have woken Wulf. Excellent. She could always rely on that girl to—

  “What do you think you’re doing, woman?”

  “I would have thought that was pretty obvious, sweetie.”

  Chalcey backed away. She didn’t want to hear any more. The thought of Sam seducing Wulf, using him to take her mind off her own issues, was more than she could bear.

  It’d sounded great in theory. Sic Sam on Wulf, and free herself from the insidious attraction the man held for her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she be hurting so damn much over a guy she’d just met? Why did she feel so damned betrayed when it’d all been her idea to throw Sam at him in the first place?

  Putting on a stoic face, and trying to ignore the anguish in her heart, Chalcey made her way downstairs to help the workmen unload their gear.

  ~~~

  Chapter Five

  Wulf snaked out a hand and grabbed the woman’s wrist. He squinted up at her.

  “You’re hurting me,” she said through lips thinned to a tight white line.

  He took her measure. She was a pretty little thing. Her hair was the color of flames—a burnished red-gold. Her baggy, short-sleeved garment and short pants displayed skin like fresh milk, and hinted at luscious feminine curves. She would have provoked a fierce bidding war on the Choosing Block.

  In another place, in another time, he would have lain there and allowed her to rouse him before taking his pleasure with her. Now, in this room, lying in Chalcedony’s bed, breathing in the scent of the woman who haunted his dreams and wishing it were she who had run her hand down his naked chest, her hot, wanton gaze licking his body, indulging in sexual congress merely because the opportunity presented itself seemed a travesty. Evidently his limp phallus supported that notion. Despite this young woman’s obvious charms, he felt nothing. And he wondered, sourly, whether some capricious god had cursed his male parts to insure Wulf would only find release with a certain female. A certain female who, as the fates would have it, was also named for a crystal. And whose true name had had the power to smite him unconscious. Gods. He should be running for the hills. Instead, he only wanted her more.

  He released the red-head’s wrist. “My apologies.”

  She perched on the side of the bed, shoulders hunching as she rubbed her wrist and flexed her fingers. “I should be apologizing to you. I shouldn’t have groped you without asking. And Chalce is my best friend. So I shouldn’t be groping you at all. No matter what she said.”

  He yanked the sheet over his privates.

  She grinned at him, shedding her sullen demeanor so abruptly that it brought to mind Kyan, his kinsman. Kyan, too, tended toward mercurial changes of temperament.

  “Worried I’ll be tempted to jump you, huh? Chill, sweetie. You’re not that hot. I can control myself.”

  He schooled his features to remain neutral, to reveal nothing of his innermost thoughts.

  Her grin turned into a peal of laughter. “Oooh,” she said. “You’re good.”

  “What did Chalcedony say, exactly?”

  “Uh uh. That would be telling.” She stuck out her hand. “Samantha Greenwood.”

  He clasped her hand because that was what she seemed to expect of him. And hid his surprise when she returned his firm grip, and shook his hand up and down. This must be how people of this world greeted one another, and evidently, it was nothing remarkable for a woman to instigate such a greeting. “You may call me Wulf.”

  “Okay, Wulf. So what are we gonna do about Chalcey?”

  He hid his surprise. “Why do we need to do anything about Chalcedony?”

  Samantha blinked at him. “You’re kidding me, right? You beat on a guy who was trying to get into her panties. You followed her home. You’re here, now, in her bed. Don’t try’n tell me you don’t want to get laid because I don’t believe you.”

  “Laid?”

  She puffed out a breath that smacked of disbelief. “You’re really not from around here, are you? How can I say this without sounding totally crass. Look. Chalcey likes you. A lot. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have followed her home unless you wanted to scr— ah, I mean, if you’d not found her attractive, right?” She glanced at him, waiting for confirmation.

  “You are correct,” he said, wondering where this strange conversation was leading. “I find Chalcedony attractive. Most attractive, indeed.”

  Samantha’s answering grin could only be described as wicked. “And I assure you, the feeling is entirely mutual. But she’s so not ready to admit that she wants you in the worst way. Which is why she backed off and said I could have you if I wanted you.”

  Now it was Wulf’s turn to blink. Women owned men in this world? The irony of his situation was not lost on him. Too, it galled him to think Chalcedony might find him so lacking that she would toss him aside before he could prove his worth to her. But if it transpired that she would not give him a chance, and he must stand on the Choosing Block, he would do so with all the pride that he could muster. He would fetch an excellent price if the pathetic specimen of manhood called Ray was any indication of what this world’s women had to choose from. Nor would he fret like a woman over things that could not be changed. He would endure, as he’d always done. “When will the Choosing take place?”

  Her brows pleated and she chewed her lower lip. “Choosing? What choosing? What’re you going on about?”

  She’d never heard of the term? Interesting. He waved away her confusion. “’Tis of no matter. Continue, please.”

  “It’s complete BS, of course. No matter what Chalce says, she’d be gutted if I slept with you. And I wouldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t! She’s my best friend.”

  Wulf noted the sheen of tears in her eyes. Compassion sparked in his belly, and his voice was uncharacteristically gentle when he said, “If you care about Chalcedony’s feelings as much as you say, then why did you touch me so intimately?”

  The tears that had been threatening spiked her lashes. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and the words tumbled out in a hurried stream that made his head spin. “Because I met someone l
ast night. A-and how I feel about him after only one night scares the panties off me. I thought that maybe if I slept with you, I might be able to forget about him and go back to how I was before. Because… because I’m a stupid bitch. I wouldn’t have gone through with it, you know. I would have teased you some, had a bit of fun with you, and then cut you loose. But you’d better believe I’d have told Chalcey if you’d been keen to try it on with me. A harmless fling with a hot guy is one thing, but no way would I set her up with a two-timing scumbag who’d screw anything that puts out. She’s not built to cope with that sort of shit.” She scowled at him so fiercely that he was reminded of a desert fox protecting its pups.

  “I see.” The crux of what she’d confessed and her intent were crystal clear, even if the finer details escaped him because of her colloquialism-ridden speech. Samantha had met a man and the depths of her feelings for this man scared her. Chalcedony, too, was scared—so scared of her desire for him that she’d pushed her friend Samantha into seducing him. And in turn, Samantha had been provoked into testing the strength of his feelings for Chalcedony. It was a twisted chain of events, but one that seemed logical—so far as females were capable of logic when it came to matters of the heart. Her forward manner aside, Wulf decided that Chalcedony possessed a worthy friend in Samantha Greenwood.

  “So. Did I pass your test, Samantha?”

  The scowl smoothed into a rueful grin. She waved her wrist beneath his nose. “Only with flying colors. I’ll have a good-size bruise there by tomorrow.”

  “I find myself wanting to apologize for hurting you, but unable to be truly repentant, given the circumstances.”

  “Apology—such as it was—accepted. Now listen up. I have a plan to get Chalcey to realize just how much she wants you. If this works, she’s gonna think it was all her idea to jump your bones. You game?”