by Briar, Robin
Entwined Secrets
Sorcery & Shifters
Book 1
Robin Briar
Copyright © 2015 by Robin Briar
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews, fan-made graphics, and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Robin Briar
ENTWINED SECRETS
Sorcery & Shifters
Book 1
Description: Jess is a sexy, curvy witch hiding out in a small town.
When she meets a refined, gorgeous man named Mason, she's shocked that her usual charms don't work on him. He's still attracted to her, but it's intensely physical. Jess has never felt a bond so magnetic as the one growing between her and Mason.
What Jess doesn't know is that Mason is a shifter with an Alpha appetite.
Jess and Mason try to take things slowly, drawing out each other's secrets over time, but powerful forces are at work. It's more than just intense sexual attraction. Something else is happening as their witch and wolf fates converge.
Something dark. Something dangerous.
The full moon is coming, and soon new identities will emerge.
If their new love can withstand the revelation of their secret dual natures, and if they fight hard to stay together, they might not lose everything.
Category: Paranormal erotic romance.
ENTWINED SECRETS is the first book in the SORCERY & SHIFTERS series. The books of this series should be read in order.
Prologue
The pool of water lay before me, ten feet across, smooth as glass. The others were gathered around me. Two of my three companions were forced into their animal forms, powerless to resist the change. Something in the heart of this alpine valley was affecting them, this strange pool of water.
None of us knew we’d followed the coordinates to a Well of Transformation.
I reached down, curious, one finger extended.
“Be careful, Jess,” warned the only shifter in my group who hadn’t been forced to change. “There’s something unusual about this pool.”
I touched the pool anyways. His caution only made me reach for the water faster. I’d spent my entire life listening to people who did nothing but hold me back. I was recruited by the coven at eighteen, pulled away from a loving family and normal life, given the role of Maiden, and put to work while kept in the dark.
Magic comes easily to me. It always has. That’s why my mentors kept secrets from me. Deep down, I’d always suspected there was a quirk in my nature, some duality that had been hidden from me all these years.
They kept my true nature a secret because they were afraid of the power inside me.
If I’d known, I would have been afraid, too.
I dipped my finger into the pool. The water didn’t feel like water. It wasn’t wet, yet a circle rippled out from my finger.
That was when, one by one, archaic runes ignited beneath the surface and began to glow.
My hand hovered over the pool, now shimmering with light, activated in a way it hadn’t been before. A hush fell over the group. I wanted to reach forward again, touch the illuminated water. It wasn’t simple curiosity anymore. The pool itself seemed to be controlling my actions, urging me to make contact again.
It took all my willpower to jerk my hand back and stand up. I was breathing heavily from the effort. I would have looked around at the others to see if my companions felt the same way, but they’d ceased to exist for me.
It was only Mason’s bark that gave me pause.
He let out one sharp bark, not two. Two was for no, and one was for yes.
Mason couldn’t have known what I was about to do, but he supported me, unlike certain other people in my life. He had become someone I always listened to when he spoke, even if he couldn’t speak with words. So I paused long enough to look up and make eye contact with him.
Warm brown eyes gazed back at me. Even in his wolf form, his humanity shone through.
He was the first man I’d ever loved, and I’d fallen for him because, for once, I hadn’t pretended to be somebody else. Once all the secrets were known, and even beforehand, it was honesty that set me free and allowed me to experience his love. I didn’t know what the Well of Transformation was, or what it would do to me, but it felt real, like knowledge, like everything I’d been searching for without realizing it.
That’s why it was Mason whom I locked eyes with at the end. He was fighting his own war, but still completely focused on me. I was so full of love for him in that moment.
“Jess, don’t do it!”
Another warning from the shifter who could still speak. The words fell on deaf ears. I paused just long enough to smile at Mason, and then took that final step into the well.
My foot slipped through the surface, and although the water appeared to be only inches deep, it swallowed me whole. My leg, and then the rest of me.
I plunged down into darkness, into fire, nothingness, and truth.
I plunged into pain. So much pain.
My body tore apart, because it had to at that point. A necessary step in any transformation. I was about to become the creature I am today.
1. The Voice from Behind
ONE MONTH EARLIER
Every day starts the same now. I can’t wait to stand in front of my canvas. Even before coffee in the morning.
My regular life wasn’t like this. I tried to paint whenever I could, but my schedule was packed full of assignments by my mentors, the elder witches in my coven.
I’ve escaped!
Okay, I haven’t exactly escaped. I had their blessing, but I still feel like a runaway at heart, and that at any moment, when I relax and enjoy myself too much, they’ll insist I come back.
Now I’m here in this small town, a day’s commuter train ride from my brownstone in the city. I could be back in time for breakfast, but I haven’t returned for nine months. With each month that passes, I wonder if I’ll ever use that return ticket.
Most days, I don’t think about my future. Most days, I lose myself in painting, like today. My boss called to say she was running late, and I told her I didn’t mind working a few more hours. It gives me more time to paint, and to hang out with Piper.
Piper is the most talented kid at the studio where I work. She falls into a trance while painting, just like I do. We work side by side easily, absorbed by the subject matter, lost in the brush strokes.
The phone rings again. It’s Sylvia, my boss and Piper’s mother, and she sounds even more irritated than on her last call.
“Jess, I’m really sorry, but I’m stuck in traffic.”
“No problem. I can take Piper to your house. Wait until you show up.”
“No need. It just so happens that my brother is in town. He should be there shortly. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
Sylvia has a brother? I had no idea. She’s never talked about him before.
“I don’t think I’ve met your brother. Has he come to the studio before?”
“No. Not since you’ve been working here. And when he does show up, he never sticks around for
very long. At any rate, Piper will be happy to see him.”
“Not you?” I pry a little.
“You’re right. That sounded bad. I’m happy to see him too. I just wish he would visit more often. Thanks for the help, Jess. I really appreciate it.”
I say goodbye, hang up with Sylvia, and look down at Piper.
“Mommy late again?” she asks without taking her eyes off the canvas.
“You guessed it.”
I decide to let the arrival of her uncle be a surprise, and go back to work alongside the little painter in silence.
Neither of us hears the door open.
“Stunning.”
A man’s voice behind me. Calm and measured. It cuts through my concentration, which never happens. It’s just the right pitch. Not grating or offensive at all.
I turn around to see who owns this magical voice.
He’s almost a foot taller than me, lean and broad-shouldered. Strong without being thick. A loose bolo cord around his neck holds a small circular pendant. His hair is short on the sides, but long on the top. Swept back.
His comment, I realize now, is directed at my canvas.
“Uncle Mason! You’re back!” Piper screams.
She runs at the man and throws herself at him. He scoops her up into a hug.
I can definitely see the family resemblance to his sister.
“Yes I am, pipsqueak,” he says, laughing.
“How long will you be here this time?”
“Not sure.”
“Will you be here for my birthday?”
“That’s a good question. When is that, anyway? Not for another year, right?” he teases.
“No! It’s tomorrow!”
“Right! I knew I came here for a reason. But wait a second…”
He grabs Piper’s hand and examines the Band-Aid on her finger, frowning, then looks up at me for an explanation.
“What happened here?” he asks. “This is a lot of blood.”
“It’s not so bad as it looks,” I say hurriedly. “I should put a fresh bandage on.”
“But what happened?” he repeats.
Piper sees the concern in her uncle’s face, “I was cutting the bristles of my brush. Like this.”
She grabs a pair of scissors and starts to demonstrate. Mason deftly catches Piper’s hand and stops her from repeating the same mistake.
“You don’t say,” he says, taking his niece’s fingers and kissing the tips. “How about instead of that, we make a pit stop on the way home?”
“Ice cream sundae?”
“It’s like you read my mind. But let’s not be rude. Introduce me to your friend here.”
Piper turns around, glowing. “This is my teacher,” she says, pulling him toward me. “Her name’s Jess.”
“That’s me,” I say. “I’m the one who lets eight-year-olds run with scissors. Tomorrow we’ll graduate to using blowtorches.”
Uncle Mason raises both eyebrows at the name. “Blowtorches? Maybe I’ll stop in and take advantage of that lesson.”
“No you won’t! Tomorrow is my birthday!” Piper chirps.
“I’m Uncle Mason, by the way.” He extends his left hand in a friendly way. “You can just call me Mason.”
It throws me for a second. Shaking with the left hand is odd even for left-handed people, but I make the adjustment. His grip is firm and his fingers are rough. I would say that Mason is in his early thirties, maybe fifteen years older than I look. I notice that he isn’t wearing a ring.
I smile back at him before it even occurs to me that I’m being flirtatious. Does he have this effect on all women? I need to remember that he’s my boss’s brother. Best to be professional.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I say formally, betraying my dated mannerisms.
I don’t want to let go of his hand. His touch is comforting, but there’s something unusual about this handshake. I didn’t notice when he first reached out, but I’m sensing it now. A primal instinct.
“Left-handed,” I comment. “Did you eat your twin in the womb?”
Mason tilts his head. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t, but if I had, would that mean I got all the best qualities?”
It sure looks like he did from where I’m standing.
“Do I have to answer now?” I throw back with a cheeky grin.
His face is elegant and rugged at the same time. His brown eyes are warm, and my comment ignites a glint of mischief in his eyes.
I can feel Piper narrowing her eyes at us. She’s noticing that Mason and I have been shaking hands longer than adults generally do.
I pull my hand back self-consciously and look away from Mason. A physical reflex, but with an undercurrent of emotion. I’ve learned to keep my distance from men. Insulate myself from intimacy. This sabbatical from the coven has been different. I’m feeling more vulnerable than I’ve been in years, but not in a bad way. I like this feeling.
“Jess, are you okay?” Mason asks with that smile again, clearly able to see the mess of desperation standing in front of him.
I smile, trying to be more composed. “I’m all right. Tired, maybe. It’s been a long day, but not because of Piper, of course. She’s a pleasure, and so talented. Really. I’m not just saying that because she’s the boss’s daughter.”
Piper beams, happy to be the center of attention again.
Mason kneels down to get a better look at her canvas.
“She’s right, Piper. This is really good. A Monet, isn’t it?” he asks his niece. Piper nods.
He can recognize a Monet? I’m a little surprised. Only someone with an interest in classical painting would recognize the artist.
“Say, this is Woman with a Parasol, isn’t it? Look at your animated brush strokes and bright use of color. Just like the original.”
He knows the title as well? Mason clearly knows something about painting. Who is this man?
“Spoken like somebody who loves art,” I say.
He turns to look up at me. “You would think,” he says darkly.
“You’re don’t love art, but you’re familiar with Monet’s work?”
He shrugs and makes a face, like he doesn’t want to talk about this, but forcing himself to regardless. For my sake. “My parents are both art historians. Maybe my sister told you? They dragged us through countless galleries all over Europe. Some of it was bound to rub off. I think I saw Parasol in Munich when I was a teenager.”
His sister? He means my boss, so that makes them direct siblings.
“Countless galleries all over Europe,” I repeat with a laugh. “Sounds like torture. I haven’t heard about this terrible abuse you and your sister suffered at the hands of your art historian parents. Sylvia doesn’t talk about herself much.”
He raises his eyebrows and his lips twitch, like he’s about to divulge a secret, but then says nothing.
“I picked the picture out of Ms. Aberdeen’s art book,” Piper says, eager to steal her uncle’s focus back.
He tears his captivating brown eyes away from me and turns back to his niece. “Ms. Aberdeen, you say? Are you sure she’s not a Mrs. Aberdeen?”
“I’m sure,” Piper chirps. She grabs my left hand and holds it up for him. “See? No ring. That means she’s a Ms. Not a Mrs.”
“Aren’t you a little hawk,” I say, taking my hand back and stroking her hair.
“Now, Piper, that doesn’t mean Ms. Aberdeen doesn’t have somebody special in her life,” Mason says.
“If she does, nobody comes to pick her up. Ever.”
“You don’t say?” Mason says. “Do you have any other information about Ms. Aberdeen that might be useful to know?”
“You two are thick as thieves,” I say with mock indignation as I cross my arms. “Talking about me like I’m not even here.”
Mason changes his tune right away. “She’s right, Piper. Some things aren’t polite to say out loud. You should know better.” He looks right at me. “Some things are better left unsaid, until the
right time. Or maybe never.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and I have to wonder… what is he talking about? It’s like he’s teasing me, or hinting at something. Trying to make me curious. The worst part is, it’s working. The more he closes his lips, the more I want to pry them open.
Piper looks up at me. She looks up at her uncle. “Can I get my ice cream sundae now?”
“In a moment.” Mason keeps his brown eyes locked on mine. “Jess, I mean, Ms. Aberdeen, thanks for staying late to watch Piper.”
“It’s no problem at all. She’s delightful.” I mean to smile at Piper, but I can’t take my eyes off Mason’s face. Now I’m looking at his beautiful mouth, the one mocking me with a smirk.
Piper gets more insistent. “Uncle Mason. Ice cream. Now.”
“You’d better hurry, Uncle Mason,” I say with a smirk of my own. “Once you put ice cream in a child’s mind, there’s no getting it out again.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” he says, laughing. “But I meant what I said earlier. That Rembrandt you’re working on—The Storm on the Sea of Galilee—it’s stunning. Your technique is incredible. Especially for somebody so young.”
I bite my tongue, like I have so many times over the years. I’m older than I look, but I can’t appear much older than eighteen to Mason.
“How can you honestly say that… after I’m sure you’ve seen the original?”
“That’s easy. Everybody brings their own perspective to the table. Your take is more energetic than the original. I prefer it. Maybe we can talk about art some time?”
Piper is pulling her uncle toward the door with both hands now, using all of her eight-year-old weight.
She almost has him out the door when I take him up on the offer.
“I’d like that, Mister…?”
“Boone. Mason Boone.” He nods. “Be careful with those blowtorches tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll drop by after Piper’s birthday to see how it went.”