“The hell! Your assumption that I’m talking about my sexuality when I say I wasn’t a man is way off.”
“My assumption is way off? I found you naked in my dad’s clinic, you knew each other, and you weren’t a man when he saved you. Dad never mentioned you. Not once, Callum. Anyone in their right mind would jump to the conclusion that you’re... Oh my God! Was Dad a...a uhm...were you two…”
“What?”
“It makes sense now. Dad never dated anyone since Mom died. And it’s because... Oh, Dad.”
“What? My foot, woman. You could drive any man to lunacy. Say what you want to say and stop forming your own answers before you hear everything. What was it you were asking about your dad? If he and I were…were…?”
“Never mind. You must have been his secret and you’ll stay a secret. Dad’s private business was his. And I don’t want to think about it. Maybe someday, I’ll think about this, what you just said.”
“Wait, what exactly did I tell you?”
Marisol waved her hand, dismissing his question. Man, she was irritating. “Right now, all I want to talk about is why my dad asked you to keep me safe and you said you know how he died. How? The doctors couldn’t even figure out who or what caused the bites on his neck and shoulders.”
Callum wanted to iron out the issue about his sexuality, but he kept his mouth shut. There were pressing issues they needed to talk about. His sexuality wasn’t one of them, although his ego was squirming right now. “This will take all night.”
“I’ll fire up the coffee pot. Better start talking. You aren’t leaving this house until you tell me all you know and then—”
“What?” Callum grinned. Marisol narrowed her pretty eyes at him. “Then we’re going to the police.”
“I already told you. There’s no need for them.”
“That’s for me to decide.”
The tight smile she gave him indicated the end of the conversation. But for Callum, it was just the beginning of his agony. His cock throbbed each time Marisol met his gaze, each time she licked her lips, and those damn eyes of hers were killing him. The beast inside him had been struggling to come out, to fucking have a taste of Marisol.
***
Callum helped clean up the table. He noticed she saved the scraps in the familiar deep dish and filled the terracotta bowl with water.
“I’ll take this to the barn. Can I trust you to behave and stay where you are?”
“You still think the wolf will show up?”
“He’s hurt. I don’t know how he managed to leave the clinic without leaving a trail of blood. He might come back. “
He sighed at the worry on her face. “Don’t worry about him. He doesn’t need that.”
“How’d you know?”
“I told you, I know things.”
“You sound like Shelli, Deputy Smithers’s wife. In this town, she’s the number one gossip. She could put tabloid magazines to shame. She knows who’s going out with whom, what her neighbor ordered from which catalog, and who’s pregnant even before the woman starts showing. And I bet she already knows about you.”
“Worried you’ll be the center of gossip in this town?”
“I’ve been subjected to harsh gossips. So, yeah. Thanks to you, I’ll be on the front line again.”
The gossip was nothing compared to what she’d be facing soon. “I wouldn’t worry about it. And don’t worry about the wolf. He’s fine.”
“For some reason, I have a feeling you have something to do with his disappearance.”
Callum smiled. She looked so worried and disgruntled at the same time that he wanted to kiss her frown away. Standing close to her, he noticed the top of her head nearly reached his chin. Without the fire in her eyes, she looked vulnerable and fragile. And deceiving. She could bring any man—or in his case any shape-shifter—to his knees. Marisol’s womanly charms and softness could render a man speechless just by looking into her eyes. Like right now. He had a hard time thinking straight when she was this close and staring at him. She was so damned appealing.
Callum turned his back to Marisol to hide his enormous erection. Fuck, he was physically attracted to the woman he’d promised to protect. If this continued, Marisol would need protection against him. How was he going to correct that?
“Stay here. I’ll take this to the barn. Maybe he’ll show up.”
He faced Marisol and took the bowl from her hand. Their fingers touched. It was brief, but enough to make his balls tighten. Hot damn, he was close to coming in his pants. “Sit down. Please.”
“All right. He might not eat the scraps anyway. He’s such a picky wolf.”
As soon as Marisol sat, he took the other chair. This was better. Sitting down, he could hide his massive erection. “Maybe if you gave him cooked meat, he might eat it.”
“I might offend him if I do that.”
“Why?”
“Well, would you eat your food in a dog dish?”
For the first time, Marisol gave him an easy smile. His heart started pounding as if he’d run for miles and miles. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. And Lord, her eyes were so enchanting. Callum squirmed in his seat. He’d better get a hold of himself. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, for fuck’s sake.
“Would you, Callum?”
“Would I what?” Even to him, his voice sounded hoarse.
“Eat from a dog dish.”
Callum shook his head. If she continued smiling and staring at him like that, he might just eat her—in a most pleasurable way.
“Of course not,” Marisol continued. “I think it’s the same way with the wolves. They’d rather eat using their dog dish and not plates. Oh, wait. Maybe the wolf is used to eating carcasses in the wild, that’s why he snubbed my food. He’s a wild animal, after all.”
Carcasses? Callum didn’t know what to say to her reasoning so he just shrugged his shoulders and changed the subject. “How do you want to do this? Like a question and answer type of thing?”
“Sounds good. Let me start with why my dad thought I need protecting. From who?”
“From the ones who killed him.”
“Who are they?”
Here we go, he thought. “Shape-shifters.”
“Shape-shifters? Oh dear.”
Her reaction was exactly the kind he’d expected. “Mari, I am not kidding.”
“Did I say you were?”
“You don’t have to. No, I didn’t read your mind. Your ‘oh dear’ and rolling of your eyes says you think I’m bullshitting.”
“Couldn’t help it.”
“What I said’s true. The shape-shifters killed Mark.”
“Forgive me, but unlike some people, I’m not a big fan of sci-fi. So it’s kind of hard to digest your story.”
“I’m not just telling you a story.”
“Oh God. I don’t know why I’m sitting here with you. You’re a total stranger, talking nonsense. Company deprived. Yep, that’s it. Why else would I let a man sit in my kitchen?”
Damn, there she goes with her monologue again. “Baby, shape-shifters fall under the category of paranormal. Have you heard of them?”
“Yeah. In Hollywood movies. I’ve seen shows about them. Humans changing into different forms, like werewolves or bears, or hawks, rats, worms, snails, snakes… Fiction stuff.”
He’d never seen or heard of a movie with snail or worm shape-shifters. It would be hilarious to see one. “Atos and his clan, baby, are not made out of someone’s imagination. They’re as real as they can get.”
Marisol raised one mocking brow. “Are you sure you’re not on something? Meth users, once addicted, would start seeing—”
“I don’t do drugs.”
“Hash, ecstasy pills, cough syrup?”
“No.”
“Dementia?”
“For the love of humanity, Mari. I’m neither a drug addict nor crazy.”
“All right. Are you a frustrated writer who got rejected so many times you’re going aro
und telling your story instead?”
“You are one incorrigible woman.”
“Sheez. Who’s talking about paranormal shit here? And why are you calling me Mari? I didn’t give you leave to shorten my name.”
“You don’t like it?”
Marisol raised one dainty shoulder. “Well, I kind of like it.”
“I wish you’d like my paranormal shit story as easily.” He hunched over, his forearms resting on his thighs.
“It would take a great deal of persuasion before anyone believed a story like that paranormal stuff. Anyway, you were saying about this Atos?”
What a rambler. She was better than a couple of loud squirrels fighting for an acorn. She’d be wonderful company on a long lonely night. “Atos is a powerful wolf.”
Marisol leaned forward. “Like Padfoot? Harry Potter’s godfather?” she whispered and wiggled her eyebrows. Her eyes danced with merriment.
Callum let out a defeated sigh. “If you don’t take this conversation seriously, Marisol Saint James, I’ll leave.”
“Can you blame me? I’m a big fan of historical romance movies, like Pride and Prejudice. Now those stories are real and believable. If you tell me that this Atos is the reincarnated King Henry the Eighth, I’ll believe you. But shape-shifters? Man, that’s just crazy stuff written by overly imaginative authors. Some made a gazillion—”
“Mari!” Callum snapped his fingers. Damn, what a chatterbox.
“What? I’m just saying there are authors out there selling crappy books.”
“Okay, but Atos is not a character in a book. He’s a real shape-shifter.”
“And he killed my dad?”
“He killed Anna, too.” That did it. Laughter in her eyes disappeared like a bubblegum that popped.
“You knew my mom?”
Callum nodded. “Yes. Atos killed her, but at the time, he didn’t know who she was. He thought Anna was just another Midnight Howl bitch protecting a wolf.”
“A what?”
“A Midnight Howl. It’s a wolf clan. Enemy of the Blood Robbers, the ones that Atos leads.”
“Jesus, resolving the conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan is probably easier to understand than what you’re telling me.”
“Accept what I’m telling you. Let it sink in and you’ll understand everything.”
Marisol’s brows drew downward in a frown while her fingers tapped the table.
Callum had seen that expression many times before, especially when she was trying to come up with a new design. A tell-tale sign that she was in deep thought. Finally, it looked like he was making progress in penetrating her senses.
“You said Atos didn’t know who Mom was at the time, but he recognized her. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She looked like your ancestor.”
“What do you mean? I don’t even know what my ancestors looked like. We don’t even have pictures of my grandparents. I wondered about that, but I didn’t bother to ask Mom and Dad. Is this Atos related to Mom?”
“No. Anna’s not related to Atos.” Thank God for that.
Hell, why’d he think this would be easy? He wished he could just hand her a book and let her read it. His mind grasped for an easy way to explain what happened to her parents and why they were dead, but he kept thinking how good she smelled. It was hard to concentrate when a beautiful woman sat across from him—one whom he’d been lusting over for more than a month now.
“How would he know what my great-great-great-remote relatives look like?”
“Mari, even shape-shifters have libraries full of history books. Shape-shifters have historians that study them. So images of your mother’s ancestors have been passed down from generation to generation to let everyone know who their enemies are. Think of the pharaohs or the leaders of the Ming Dynasty. Something like that. When you see their images, you know who they are. You recognize them.”
“Midnight Howl. Blood Robbers. Clans. I’ve never heard of such groups.”
“Not very many have heard about them, baby.”
“Okay, so this Atos saw my mom and she looked like my ancient relative. So what? Why kill her?”
“You know your mom was a healer, right?”
Marisol nodded. “Dad told me Mom was the best. And so were Dad and other vets in Marrowstone, when you think about it. In every little town, big cities, everywhere, you’ll find a first class vet. So I don’t see why she was targeted.”
“It was what she used to heal the animals that caused her death. The poultice.”
Obviously surprised at the mention of the word poultice, Marisol’s brows creased. “What do you know about Mom’s poultice?”
“That it’s powerful.”
“No kidding. I used it on my wolf today. Now, he’s gone.”
“Do you know how to make it?”
Marisol nodded. “I have to be present to make the poultice work, although I didn’t think my contribution was necessary. When Mom was alive, she used to make it and I didn’t have to be there. Which, I tell you, was awesome. Imagine me, a tiny tot getting uhm...” Marisol swallowed. “Well, when Dad started making it, he asked that I help. My parents believed that my presence was vital.”
“What do you mean?”
“That I have to help make it. Go on.”
She was hiding something. Perhaps the secret of the poultice. He heard that Atos sent the poultice that he stole from Marisol’s mother to the lab in Swedish Hospital. The lab tech came up with nothing. Until now, they couldn’t figure out the secret ingredient that made it work. “Marisol, everything that I’ll tell you is going to be impossible to understand. So I ask that you listen first.”
“All right.”
“The poultice, your sword, the death of your parents, and Atos are all connected.”
Marisol shook her head. “This kind of information is not what I expected to hear when you told me you knew how my father died. Now, you’re throwing in added information about my mother’s poultice being the cause of her death—that it’s powerful, and a shape-shifter is after it?”
“Sorry, baby. You’ll get a headache from all of this, but I think it would lessen the blow if you learn about your history.”
“This isn’t a load of shit you’re dumping on my lap, right?”
“I wish. Sadly, every bit of information I’m telling you is true.”
“Okay, back to Mom. Why would Atos kill her for using the poultice?”
“He didn’t kill her because she used it. It was her refusal to tell him what she knew about the poultice that made him angry.”
“You mean what was in the poultice.”
“Yes. She didn’t tell him what it was made out of.”
“That’s why she died? Because she didn’t share what we mix in the poultice?”
“Yes, but I doubt he would’ve spared her life if she had.”
Marisol bit her lower lip. “Do you think Dad did the same thing? Denied Atos what he wanted to know? Must be. Oh God. They sacrificed their lives for…for the recipe, because sharing it with anyone would mean... I’m going to have a migraine soon.”
“What’s in that poultice?”
“I can’t tell you. Mom and Dad made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“Good. You shouldn’t. Guard the secret.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“It’s a test.”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“I know.” Callum combed back his hair. He decided he’d stick to the history and the truth about her mother. It would be easier that way. “Marisol, listen. There were two Celtic immortal shape-shifter clans, the Crom and Arcus. They were both older than Atlantis and were powerful immortals, led by their respective leaders. Valdo was leader of clan Crom, and Youven led clan Arcus. They were both sons of gods.”
“Not related to Jesus, I hope.”
Callum swatted a lock of hair that hung from her temple. “You’re funny.”
&n
bsp; “I’m not trying to be.”
“Which makes you even funnier.”
“And you’re a horrible storyteller. You’re off your track. So Youven and Valdo were sons of gods. What kind of gods?”
“War gods.”
“Okie-dokie.”
Callum laughed aloud this time. Marisol was so easy to like. “Okay, back on the storytelling track. The war gods created two powerful swords. One for Youven, who was married to a human, and the other one for Valdo, who’d married a goddess. The swords were gifts for the leaders’ loyalty, and for keeping the harmonious relationship between the humans and immortal shifters. But Valdo turned into a greedy, cruel leader when he discovered the extent of the swords’ power. With his sword in hand, he did whatever he wanted, even the unthinkable.”
“Like what?”
“Kill the humans he considered rejects and Arcus members who disagreed with him. Also those who refused to bow to him suffered the same fate as the rejects.”
“Rejects?”
“Yes. Drunks, whores, addicts, killers, rapists, outlaws, et cetera.”
“But he spared the good citizens?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, the fine line between good and bad was too thin. Suspicions were enough grounds for him to kill humans.”
“Oh my God. Why?”
“Simple. He despised humans.”
“So the reject thing was just an excuse?”
“You could say that. To him, humans were weak and should be eliminated to prevent shape-shifters, like Youven, from getting involved with them.”
“Who the heck is he to kill us? He sounds like a Nazi.”
“Valdo wanted to rule everyone. No one, not even Youven, could stop him.”
“I understand Valdo could easily kill the humans, but the immortals...?” Marisol stared at him. “The sword. It could kill immortals.”
“Yes. It’s the only weapon the shifters are afraid of. It prevents an immortal wolf from using its power to heal. A nick from the sword could turn fatal.”
“Leabhar Buidhe Lecain,” Marisol whispered.
“You know about The Yellow Book of Lecan? The medieval Irish manuscript?”
Marisol lowered her gaze and focused it on the spot on the table where she tapped her fingers. “I know everything about the book. I remember reading about a sword, not swords, and its power to prevent wounds from healing. It also mentioned the Sacred Spear, Cauldron, and the Lia Fail, also known as the Stone of Destiny.”
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 297