Solstice Spell

by Mechele Armstrong

  How had such a wonderful creature come into his life?

  And so began a first for him. A night of talking, intermixed with loving each other, until before dawn when he’d eased out of her arms, out of her bed. He’d found more out about her than any other woman. She’d told him of her divorce, of her dreams for her studio. One day she’d have a showing of her photography. Her honesty and joy of living had been reflected in every word. She wasn’t a woman who sat back on her laurels, letting life pass her by. She was a woman who liked to live.

  He’d listened, truly hearing her.

  And in the quiet stillness before sneaking out, he’d looked back to see her spread out in her bed, blanket wrapped around her legs, her hair a mass of blond ringlets on the pillow. He’d never seen anything, been with anyone, that touched his heart like she did.

  When morning came, the sun spread across the horizon, lighting the world with its first rays. For a second, he believed the change wouldn’t come. But change he did, into the white stag.

  Though his heart had fallen, hers still had yet to.

  And Winter Solstice was less than three weeks away.

  * * * * *

  The next week was the best of Gill’s life. Rupe came over most nights, if not to stay, to have dinner and see her. The sex was awesome. Better than great. And he listened when she talked.

  Life was good.

  Except that she always woke up alone.

  At first, it hadn’t bothered her. After all, it had been sex, not a commitment. That was how she’d gone into the experience.

  But as time went on, and she began to wonder where all this great sex was going, the fact that he never stayed the entire night spoke volumes about his intentions. He had no intentions toward her beyond having a sex buddy.

  At first, she’d blamed it on Evan being there and Rupe being solicitous of her feelings. But even on a night where Evan went to stay the night with some friends, Rupe still left before dawn.

  She’d erected a wall around her feelings from the start. Until he showed something beyond a sexual commitment, she wasn’t falling in love, no way. And he hadn’t done anything that said he wanted something beyond fucking her.

  Sure, they talked after they screwed. She’d confessed some of her biggest dreams, some of her deepest secrets. But how much did she know about him?

  Not much.

  Come to think of it, she never saw him during the day, she only saw him at night. Was she not good enough to visit in the daytime, to see him in the sunshine?

  She was having great sex with a man she didn’t love. And it didn’t bother her all that much. She wasn’t going to fall for him, nor was he going to fall for her.

  Things should have continued on wonderfully in that vein.

  Except, she’d talked to her friend, Babs, one afternoon.

  “Well, he finally did it. Frank bought a boat.”

  Gill blinked at her cordless phone as she cropped some pictures for a wildlife magazine. “Frank can’t swim.” Babs’s husband had never learned and was not that comfortable around or in water. At the beach, he always stayed on alert, stiff and tense.

  The love that surged up in Babs’s voice came audibly across the phone. “Nope, he sure can’t.”

  Frank hated boats of every kind and shape. Babs loved the water and loved to boat. But she’d never take care of the thing. Frank would wind up doing all the maintenance. And she’d drag him out in it every weekend during the summer.

  Gill’s throat constricted and hurt horribly. “That’s a wonderful thing for him to do.”

  “It is.” Babs let loose a chuckle. “He probably thinks he earned a million ‘atta boy’ points. But he leaves that seat up again, he’s losing them all.”

  Gill couldn’t laugh, couldn’t speak.

  The conversation turned on to other topics.

  But the rest of the day, Gill’s thoughts stayed focused on what Babs’s husband had done for her. What would it be like for someone to love you so much, they did something amazing like that for you? She was thirty-three years old and running out of time to ever experience anything like that. That was sad.

  How many times had her mother cited statistics on the likelihood of her getting married again? Of even finding a lover.

  And she couldn’t even get Rupe to stay a full night with her or visit during the day.

  Her thoughts all muddled together like a giant string of silly putty, she went in search of her lover, unsure of what exactly she expected him to tell her.

  No one answered the door, but his car was in the driveway. So she plopped on a deck chair, deciding to wait until he came home. He’d probably gone on a walk.

  An hour later, the sun drooped behind the trees as if it had gotten tired from a day of rays.

  The white deer came into view, stepping into the clearing, dipping his head to small blades of grass. She ducked down. She could still see it, which meant it could see her, but hopefully it wouldn’t notice too much. She saw its nose lift, sniffing the air. It could probably smell her. She hunkered down even more. If only she’d brought her camera. She could get some wonderful shots of it.

  The deer pawed the ground.

  The sun ducked beyond the trees, disappearing behind the horizon. The porch light snapped on. In the low light, the deer moved closer to the house.

  One minute, she saw white deer standing there. The next, Rupe stood in its place, gloriously naked in the yard.

  Her eyes blurred. She blinked to clear them. No way she could have seen what she thought she’d seen. Had it been a trick of light?

  The deer had transformed into the man. She’d watched the metamorphosis with her own eyes.

  She peered again as he moved toward the steps.

  The white stag was gone. It had changed into Rupert Donaldson.

  Her brain cried out in protest of the events, but she knew what she’d seen. It was impossible. But she’d seen it.

  What the hell was he?

  Chapter Eight

  Rupe looked cautiously around his backyard. He’d scented Gill when he’d been his other form. But hadn’t seen her anywhere. She wasn’t supposed to come over. By the time he’d smelled her, it had been almost sunset, so there was nowhere to go to get away, especially as he hadn’t known where she was. He must have been mistaken, though. It was probably wishful thinking. He’d thought of her all day, as he did every day while he was a deer. Each morning, he prayed he wouldn’t turn. But every morning, he switched forms.

  He pulled out the jeans from his stash of clothes in the plastic chest by the steps. He always left something in there to wear. It needed replenishing. He’d been so busy over at Gill’s lately, not much time was being spent here.

  Snapping the pants, he loped up the deck steps, going to get a shirt before he traipsed to Gill’s house, and froze.

  Behind his patio table, he caught the sight of blond hair and a blue shirt. She was ducked down, peeking through the rails.

  Their eyes met.

  Gill slowly got to her feet. Her eyes darted from him to the entranceway and back again. She puffed out big breaths.

  Shit.

  He held out his hands in front of him. “Gill.”

  “You get away from me.”

  “We need to talk.” He planted himself at the top of the steps. It was the only way off the deck. He still held out hope that maybe she hadn’t seen enough to draw a conclusion.

  “I don’t want to talk.” She scanned for other exits. But the deck was too high off the ground for her to risk jumping over the rails. Her hand covered her mouth. “What are you? Some ... were-animal?”

  He swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You changed from a deer to a man.”

  Well, scratch any hope she hadn’t seen enough. “It’s a long story, Gill.” And not one he’d intended to tell her now. Dammit, he should have been more cautious, but she’d never come over to his place before.

  She rushed at him suddenly, almost shoving him backward
. He caught her easily in his arms. Picking her up, he slung her gently into a deck chair. Carrying her inside would have been preferable, but she’d fight too much.

  “I’m not listening to you. Are you a vampire?”

  He positioned himself on the patio table in front of her, blocking any escape. “No. You read way too many horror stories.” He folded his hands in front of him on his jeans. “I need you to listen to me.”

  “I’m not going to.” She stared at him stubbornly, her jaw set in a tight line, lips pursed thinly.

  “Gill. I was cursed.”

  Her knuckles whitened into clenched fists. “You’re crazy.”

  He continued. “I hurt ... well, I hurt a woman, and her brother blamed me. He changed me. I’m a deer during the day. A man at night. You saw me change. You know I’m telling the truth.”

  “How did you hurt her?” Her eyes narrowed, not looking quite so wild. What she’d seen was starting to sink in as truth.

  Rupe and Liesel had known of each other long before they’d begun dating. Long before he’d hurt her. Long before she’d been immersed in grief and had the accident. Anyon had muttered words of curses before Liesel had even been buried, sentencing Rupe for the wrong he’d done Anyon’s sister.

  He rubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s not important.” He didn’t want to share, didn’t want to give up the wrongs he’d done. The disappointed look in Gill’s eyes would be hard to take, even harder than the fear he saw in her eyes now.

  “Yes. Yes, it is. Tell me.”

  She wasn’t going to let it go. Would she hate him even more, finding out the man he’d been? “I took her virginity. And she found out I had three other women I was dating along with her. That she hadn’t known about.” He leaned back. “We argued. She stormed out and had a car wreck. She was speeding. So her brother cursed me.”

  “Forever?”

  “No. No, not forever.”

  “How long?”

  Rupe blew out a breath. Honest was something he needed to be with her. It had cost him too much in the past, being dishonest. Plus, for them to have any kind of future, the one he wanted, he had to level with her. “Until I find love. Only love will break the spell.” Maybe her romantic self would kick in, and she wouldn’t freak out.

  She started, eyes wide again and slowly comprehending. “That’s what this was about? With me?” Hurt replaced the anxiousness in her eyes, breaking his heart into pieces. “Fuck me until I fell for you? Then, you’d be free.”

  He couldn’t catch any breaks today. So much for romance. “It may have started out that way when I first wanted to get to know you. But, Gill, along the way, I fell for you. I’m in love with you.” He couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t look in her face. He’d never said those words honestly to anyone. “I would have even without the curse.”

  Her voice choked with tears. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear them when she spoke. “Well, you screwed up. I don’t love you. And I never will.”

  His heart bottomed into his stomach. All the times he’d said those words and hadn’t meant them to women who’d believed him. The one time he meant them, the woman didn’t believe him. “Go.”

  She sprinted down the steps and out of his life. With all his hope.

  * * * * *

  Gill slammed a can of soup onto a shelf in her pantry.

  “Bad can?” Evan arched a brow at her from where he sat at the kitchen table.

  “No.” She slammed another one beside the first.

  He pushed his chair under the table. “O.K., then. I’ll see you later.”

  “Where are you going?” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. If only she could brush that man out of her brain so easily.

  “Dinner. Movie. With Amy. I’ll be back by midnight.”

  “Try eleven.”

  He rolled his eyes, snagging his jacket. She thought she heard a barely muttered comment about PMS, which she ignored.

  “Oh, and Evan?”

  He turned to face her, eyes wide.

  “No more hunting.”

  “What? You said I could. I haven’t bagged the deer, yet.”

  “No more hunting.” Even though she’d joke about killing Rupe to Babs once she found a different way to explain the breakup, it was only that, a joke. She couldn’t let Evan shoot him, though Evan probably had more of a chance of acing his SATs than hitting anything with a bullet.

  Muttering sullenly, he stalked out of the house. She’d have to find a way to make it up to him. She wasn’t about to explain that Rupe was the deer so Evan couldn’t bag it without killing him.

  She picked up a dish towel and wiped down her wooden kitchen table.

  Damn him.

  He’d been using her the whole time. Trying to get her to fall in love with him to break some curse. It was never about the woman she was. Any woman would have done. He’d been using sex to try and get an “in” with her. Thank God, she’d never let it turn into more than fucking. She’d given her heart over to Gunnar, and look what he’d done with it. And there had always been more than screwing with Gunnar. She’d loved him from the beginning. Look where it had gotten her.

  She reopened the pantry, pulling out the condoms still tucked away in the vegetable bin. She’d left a few down there for nights in the hot tub. Tossing them into the trash, she then slammed down the lid.

  But if she didn’t care at all about Rupe, why did what he had done hurt so much?

  Because you’re a fool.

  * * * * *

  Rupe sipped his beer, sitting out on his deck, where he’d last seen Gill. He stared down into the amber-hued liquid. The memories would have to hold him for a lifetime.

  It had been a day of cursing. Cursing Gill, the deer, his bad luck, Anyon. The bastard. No, he was the bastard, not Anyon. Yeah, most of all he’d cursed himself.

  His phone rang. He quickly answered it, dealt with some business and other things, something for Gill. He’d impressed upon the art director he’d known that Gill was never to know who’d approached them with her photos. Even though it was Gill’s talent that had nabbed their interest in her for a show, he didn’t want her to know he’d had anything to do with it. It was his last gift to her.

  A noise at the steps to the deck made him turn. His hopes rose and plummeted quickly down. It wasn’t Gill, but Bos, who slowly climbed up. Rupe motioned to him to come up and sit while he finished his phone call.

  After he’d hung it up, Bos frowned. “You’re home. You’ve not been home since you and Gill got involved. That’s not a good sign.”

  “She saw me turn into a deer. It’s over.”

  Bos’s eyes slammed shut a minute, then reopened. “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have a week and a half left. I could set you up on a blind date ...”

  Rupe waved a hand. “No.”

  “No? You don’t have much time. This will become permanent, man.”

  “I love her.” He had from the second time he’d seen her, and she’d fallen, then laughed about it. Something in him had gone down to its knees. Getting to know her and making love to her had only reinforced that feeling. The fact he still changed from man to deer told him she didn’t yet love him, or at least not completely. And now, she never would.

  Bos sunk down in a chair.

  “I won’t fall for anyone else in the time that we have.”

  “You can’t let it go. Go make up with her.”

  “I won’t hurt her again.” He never wanted to see that look in her eyes. He couldn’t take it.

  “So what? You ...” Bos got up, slamming his chair under the table, and paced. “You stay in this half-and-half existence? Deer by day? Man by night? For the rest of your life, Rupe. Dodging hunters and chewing cud? Is that how you want to live?”

  “No. Of course not.” His hands clenched, knuckles whitening until he relaxed them. “Bos. It’s not that bad. At least I’m still alive.” At one time, breaking the curse had been the most important thing to him
in his life. Now, there were more important things, like Gill and her happiness.

  There wasn’t enough time to make her love him. And if she didn’t by now, it was probably wasted effort anyway. So she’d move on with her life. And he’d never forget what he almost had.

  Bos pushed his wild hair back from his face. “So, you’re still a deer.”

  “Don’t.”

  “You can’t give up.”

  Rupe sighed, a long drawn-out process. “I’m not giving up. It’s O.K. At least I’m a man by night. I still can harass you. Drink with me.” He held out a bottle for Bos to take. “Come on.”

  With a glower, Bos took it. Rupe held out his own bottle to clink. Reluctantly, Bos tapped his against Rupe’s. “Here’s to fallen dreams.”

  Bos took a big sip before speaking. “And keeping hope alive.”

  * * * * *

  Gill danced around her studio, doing pirouettes. She shook her bottom all around. Not exactly professional, but she was alone.

  There was going to be a big art show downtown in March. They wanted her pictures to be featured prominently. She’d have almost a whole wing to herself.

  She did a two-step. Her dream had been realized. She had to tell ...

  Skidding to a stop, she sighed.

  She’d been thinking about telling Rupe. In her happiness-induced amnesia, she’d forgotten she never wanted to see him again.

  Someone knocked on her door.

  Maybe it was Rupe.

  She checked the window. Nope, the sun shone high in the sky. Which meant he was still a deer. May he get a thorn in his ass and have to wait until nighttime to get it out.

  A man with tousled black hair stood outside her door.

  “Gill St.

  Charles?”

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “I know I don’t have an appointment.” He stepped inside her office. “But I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Sure. What kind of photography job are you looking to have done?” She picked up a pad of paper, sitting down at the other side of her desk, trying to look professional even as her heart pounded in her chest. An art show!