The Mating Game: Werewolves of Montana Book 8

by Bonnie Vanak

  They had shown none to Timmy’s parents or the boy. Xavier pointed a finger at them, and they screamed. And then the screams died out as they exploded into a shower of green ash.

  Weary, he dusted off his hands. Their souls would wander the Dark Lands, where the Dark Lord reigned. Few ever escaped. Only those who performed great deeds of sacrifice had a chance, and most Others sent to the Dark Lands had no good inside them.

  He turned and saw Ciara staring as if she saw him in a new light.

  A very unflattering, terrifying light.

  “Why, why…” She hugged herself, visibly shaken.

  “These Trolls did not steal Timmy to sell him to a childless couple as some Trolls do. They stole him to boil him and eat him. That is an unpardonable offense.”

  Ciara looked ill.

  “I had to stop them before they did such an unspeakable act,” he said gently.

  “You pointed your finger, and they disappeared,” she whispered.

  “This is who I am, Ciara. What I must do. I’m not the romantic you envision me as. I am the Crystal Wizard, and I have duties, responsibilities, and a tremendous amount of power. In order to discipline and punish, I must be brutal. I am not the good, gentle lover you think.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I believe you. But I still believe you are good and you deserve love. Perhaps more than others because you must do such dreadful things to deliver justice.”

  Stunned, he stared at her, his heart twisting in anguish. He went to her, marveling at this Nymph who showed fear at the actions he performed but no fear of him. Xavier framed her face with his hands.

  “I cannot stay with you,” he said gently. “What we shared, I will never forget, and I will cherish it forever, as I cherish your gift. You deserve…”

  His throat closed. You deserve a mate who will stay with you for always. Children. Joy. You don’t belong to me. You belong to the wild.

  “You deserve to be happy with someone else, someone who will acknowledge your uniqueness and how priceless you are and can give you everything your heart desires,” he finally said.

  For a split second, a cynical look entered her eyes. It spoke of a jaded weariness as extensive as his own, and he wondered about her being an old soul. Then she blinked, and moisture gathered in her green eyes. Ciara offered him a brave smile.

  “Yes, I do. I deserve to be happy.”

  They returned upstairs. As she packed her belongings, he looked around his room, lost in melancholy. Then he took out his cell phone and dialed a special number.

  Gideon answered on the first ring, as if expecting his call.

  “I need another favor,” he began. When he finished the call, he thumbed off the cell.

  Xavier cleaned up the room, disposing of the drawer-full of condoms, the sheets stained with Ciara’s virginal blood, replacing them with clean sheets. He waved a hand, and his magick eradicated his scent in the room.

  It was as if he were never here.

  He left a big tip for the maid and gave one last look around, his chest so tight it was hard to breathe.

  He helped Ciara carry her things down to his car. Xavier drove and cranked up fifties’ songs. She brightened and sang along to each one, laughing at his rusty voice as he joined in. They talked about music, about their favorite songs, and everything from Florida’s heat and tourist season to the migration habits of birds.

  They talked about everything except him leaving her.

  They stopped at a bank, and she withdrew money from her bank account. Then he took her shopping for clothing at a nearby shopping mall, watching in admiration as she modeled every outfit for him. By the time they arrived at her father’s house, the sun had set.

  Xavier parked the car in the gravel driveway. Ciara fished a key from beneath a flower pot and unlocked the door of the house, and he set down all her purchases in the living room—the colorful bathing suit, the jeans and shirt, the flip-flops he’d bought for her at the farm store, and sundresses.

  She stood by the window, shoulders slumped, her misery so piercing it hurt him to look upon her.

  He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  Ciara looked uncertain. “Where are we going now?”

  “To meet a group of panthers you will like. They live some distance from you, but they will welcome you.”

  He waved a hand and transported to the parking lot of a large organic store. The store was a monstrous, concrete building with a juice stand outside, picnic tables, and even a gazebo, but everything was closed now.

  Ciara would be happy here and find the acceptance that was lacking among the nymphs. Xavier squeezed her hand. “Come on. They’re out back at a barbecue.”

  Taking a gravel pathway cutting through a tangle of brush, he escorted her past a little pond with lily pads and a waterfall gushing down an artful arrangement of slate-gray rocks. Palms and ferns flanked the circular pond. They kept walking until the trees thinned out to form a wide circle.

  Picnic tables and chairs were arranged around a large fire pit. Several charcoal grills were near the picnic tables. The tangy smell of grilled meat filled the air, along with the sharp scent of shifters.

  Near one of the grills stood Gabriel, one of Tristan’s charges. Dressed in jeans and a blue cotton shirt, he was barefoot. His shoulder-length blond hair brushed down to his collar, and a beard framed his face.

  He looked up and saw them. “Xavier! Gideon told me you’d be stopping by.”

  The shifter came forward, tongs in his left hand, and stuck out a palm. Xavier shook it.

  He drew her forward. “Gabriel. This is Ciara Verde. She is half nymph, half cougar shifter.”

  In the firelight, he saw her face flush. She looked away, as if ashamed.

  “Cool,” Gabriel said. “Welcome to our little enclave. So, you’re mixed blood. Like me.”

  Ciara blinked. “I thought I was the only half shifter in Florida.”

  Gabriel waved the tongs like a sword. “I’m half panther, half Fae. My mate, Sienna, she’s a full-blooded Fae. But most of us are a ragtag bunch of mixed-blood mongrels.”

  “Watch your mouth, cat,” drawled another cougar shifter sitting nearby, a can of beer clutched in his hand. He was thin, with long legs encased in faded jeans, and he wore a blue chambray shirt and had a mop of tousled, blond curls.

  “I’m a full-blooded American mongrel,” the shifter continued. “Half panther, half wolf. Now if that isn’t screwed up, I don’t know what is. I don’t know half the time if I should chase rabbits or chase myself.”

  Ciara laughed, and Xavier was glad of the sound. Relieved, he drew her forward. “Miss Ciara Verde,” he told the shifter.

  “Old Felix’s daughter?” The shifter sat up with interest. “I’m Danny. Pleased to meet you.”

  They shook hands.

  “I knew your dad. Felix was a hell of a good hunter.”

  Ciara smiled. “Yes, he was.”

  “Me and Felix used to have a great time in the ‘glades, frog hunting and scaring fishermen. Gave ‘em the time of their lives, made them think there were ghosts in the glades.”

  She laughed again. “That sounds like Dad.”

  Danny jumped up, dusted off the chair beside him. “Sit, please.”

  Xavier watched Ciara listen with animated fascination as Danny began to regale her with tales of her father. Sienna arrived, greeting Xavier with a nod and a smile. She handed Ciara a bottle of water and joined them. Sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, along with a smattering of country music.

  Among these new friends, Ciara would be safe here.

  She would be happy here.

  And he would be miserable, but at least he knew she’d found a place to fit in.

  Time to leave, before she realized he had gone. It would be easier on her like this.

  Xavier stuffed his hands into his pockets and backed away, his heart shattering like brittle glass. As he walked down the path, he found it blocked by Gabriel.


  The panther shifter gave him a knowing look, his green eyes reflecting the firelight’s glow, making the pupils shine.

  “Sienna and I have a spare bedroom. She can spend the night, and I’ll drive her back in the morning.”

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  “You care about her,” Gabriel said, peering past him to the laughing Ciara.

  Xavier started to protest, but the panther put up a hand. “I can see how you look. I was like that when Sienna left me for the first time. But I got her back, eventually. Took twenty years. She’ll come back to you, if she is meant for you.”

  I can never have Ciara in my life. I must walk alone. Xavier nodded. “Thank you, Gabriel. Take good care of her. If you need anything, let me know.”

  With a wave of his hand, he vanished into droplets of sad, gray mist.

  Part III

  Present Day Colorado

  10

  The flea market was no place for a Nymph to hang out.

  Unless you liked to shoplift.

  Ciara Verde stood near stall 69 at the flea market in Colorado, which doubled as her friend’s small art gallery. On weekends, Ciara sold her original acrylics. The flea market was near the town of Fern Forest in the Rocky Mountains.

  She didn’t need the money. Painting had become a necessary hobby after she’d been dumped by Xavier, the Crystal Wizard.

  Dumped really wasn’t the proper word. Abandoned.

  She’d become his lover five months ago, after spending a wonderful weekend in Florida. Oh, she knew he could not stay. Knew he had duties and obligations. Such a powerful being—who ruled over her kind, Ogres, Trolls, and Gnomes—could not have a relationship with a lowly nymph. Even if they’d shared a night of incredible lovemaking.

  The problem was she could not forget him. Even the lovers she’d taken to her bed to dismiss his touch, to erase the memories of his whispered passion, paled in comparison.

  She craved his attention, longed to see him, pined for him.

  Damn the wizard.

  Staying with the shapeshifters of her dad’s side of the family hadn’t worked out. She’d been too restless, too filled with misery of the memories from her time with Xavier. When her mother had issued an invitation to move to Colorado and join her colony of nymphs, Ciara had jumped at the chance. As a nymph with mixed bloodlines and shifter DNA, she had never been allowed entry into the purebred colony, until her mother became in charge of the insular band of Nymphs.

  Now her mother was in trouble, and Ciara was the only one who could free her. The only item she needed now belonged to the sexy, handsome wizard who had taken her virginity.

  For the past week, she’d tried calling upon him, but each time, Gideon, the Crimson Wizard, had appeared. It seemed Xavier wanted nothing to do with her.

  Drastic times called for extreme measures. Today, he’d have no choice but to show himself to her.

  On the wall behind her were four seascapes, sand and sky and pretty shells. Surrounded by the seascapes was a ten-by-ten acrylic painting of a dark-haired man, the edges of his curls tipped with clear, shining crystals. A closely-trimmed beard framed a sensual mouth, his cheekbones were high and aristocratic, and his gray-blue gaze was soft as he gazed into the distance.

  The Crystal Wizard. Her former lover.

  Ciara watched the steady stream of humans—Skins, as Others such as herself called them. On Sundays, the market was crammed with people searching for bargains.

  A man in an orange shirt and a tattered, straw cowboy hat walked past. He had small, brown eyes and a scruffy beard.

  Ciara centered her thoughts and read his mind. Oh yeah. Very bad boy. Violent. Excellent.

  A fat wallet stuck out of his back pocket, attached by a thick chain to his leather belt. Cakewalk. Ciara drifted behind him, light as air, clutching her tote bag. She touched the chain and, using her magick, made it snap in half. She lifted the wallet, dropped it into her tote, and glided away as the biker pressed deeper into the crowd.

  That should get Xavier’s attention. Now that she’d committed a crime, he’d have no choice but to appear to her, for Xavier was the guardian and judge of Nymphs such as herself.

  As she turned to flee back to her paintings, she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man. He towered above the crowd. A thrill raced through her.

  Xavier. Finally, she had his attention at last.

  And then the tall man seemed to be swallowed by the crowd. Disappointed, she returned to her paintings.

  Only to find an equally tall man with golden hair leaning against the wall holding her art. He wore a red tunic and red leather pants and boots and was quite handsome, except for his severe look. The tips of his gold hair were touched with crimson.

  Gideon, the Crimson Wizard, one of Brehon who ruled over Others.

  Her bravado fled. Ciara swallowed hard and looked around for an escape.

  As she turned, he blocked her exit, effortlessly moving through the air like mist.

  “Ciara,” he said in a lyrical, low voice. “Why are you doing this? This is the second time you’ve stolen.”

  She thrust her chin into the air. No use hiding the crime. “He’s an evil man. I read his thoughts. He robbed a gas station last night, and this wallet contains the money.”

  “Leave the Skin justice for the Skins.”

  “You can’t lecture me. You’re not my judge.” She peered around. “Where is he?”

  “You know he cannot come to you,” Gideon said, almost gently.

  “He’s too busy to see me. Because he is so all-important.”

  “He cannot see you because he doesn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Any more than he already did?” she asked.

  This was dangerous, taunting a powerful wizard who could easily turn her into a smoking heap of ash if he got angry.

  But Gideon only sighed. “He did not wish to hurt you. That was not his intention when he lay with you.”

  “I should have found a Troll with a raging case of herpes. I’d have been better off.”

  The insult should have stung, but Gideon gave her a pitying look.

  Goddess, she tired of pity!

  Jealousy consumed her. And the question that had remained foremost in her mind. “I suppose he has taken other lovers since me.”

  “Don’t do this to yourself or to him.”

  “Why are you so concerned about him?”

  “He is my friend and my brother wizard.” Then the severe look returned. “And if you continue this streak of crime—especially among the Skins and draw attention to your magick—he will be forced to punish you, and that is something he does not wish to do.”

  “So he sends you to do the job for him.”

  “Give me the wallet so I may return it to lost and found.”

  “No.”

  Gideon narrowed his gaze. “Xavier was right. You are a stubborn little thing. Give it to me.”

  Power shimmered around the wizard. He could force her hand.

  She summoned her courage. “I will give it back…to Xavier only. Otherwise, I’m burning it.”

  Gideon gave a wry smile. “It’s your funeral.”

  The wizard vanished. Ciara gulped.

  “Ciara,” a deep voice said quietly.

  Oh gods, here we go. It’s been five months since I’ve seen you. I don’t know if I can take it. I want to see you. I wish…

  She turned.

  Xavier, the Crystal Wizard, stood before her. Six feet, five inches, with broad shoulders covered by a tailored, black silk suit, her former lover wore matching trousers and a white shirt open at the throat.

  His gray-blue gaze was soft.

  Ciara’s stomach knotted as her heart shattered. “You left without saying goodbye.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I did not mean to hurt you, but it was for the best.”

  She stared at his chest, for the top of her head came only to his chin. “Best for who? For you?”

  “For you. Why are y
ou stealing?”

  “It feels good.”

  Xavier’s full mouth, the sensual lips that had kissed every inch of her skin with such loving abandon, flattened. “You have become a very good thief, Ciara. This is your second transgression. If you insist on this crime streak, I must punish you.”

  “Punish me how? Breaking my heart? Too late, wizard. You’ll never break it again.”

  “I would have given anything to be with you, but you knew I could not. I blame myself for what happened.”

  How noble. Pain ate through her like acid, turning her bitter inside. He could blame himself for all eternity, but it did not change anything or make her feel better.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He held out his hand as if to touch her lips, as if mesmerized by her mouth, the elegant fingers that had stroked her into sheer, erotic bliss.

  Ciara leaned close, yearning for that caress, reaching for his hand.

  Then his gaze shuttered, and he abruptly pulled away. “It’s over between us, Ciara. For good.”

  “Except when I do something against your rules. I didn’t make the rules, so why should I heed them?”

  “Return the wallet.”

  Ciara held it up, waving it.

  “Do not force me to use my powers against you. You know the rules. No Skin interference.” Now the deep, velvet voice had grown stern with warning.

  Ciara bit her lip, more scared than she liked to admit at the eerie, white glow of his eyes. Shoulders thrown back, she took a deep, calming breath.

  “First, I need to give you these.” She reached into her tote and withdrew the white sandals with the glittering crystals. She dropped them onto the ground.

  Xavier’s expression tightened. “Those were my gift to you.”

  “I’m giving them back to you. I don’t want anything of yours.”

  After they had become lovers, Xavier had given her the gift of sandals with glittering crystals. She had given him her silver nymph ring, her most cherished possession. He’d started to refuse but then put it on his pinkie. The ring was magick and adjusted to his finger.

  As he bent over to pick up the sandals, she braced herself. Now or never…

  Xavier held the shoes in his hands for a moment. A flicker of sadness chased across his face. Then he waved a hand, and the sandals vanished.