Stranger Series Box Set

by Heather C. Myers

  The blonde also appeared to be an instructor. Her matching sweats were from Victoria’s Secret’s Pink line and on her feet were Rainbow flip flops. Not only was she gorgeous, but she knew exactly how to dress herself.

  “Dianna,” he said with a curt nod.

  “Well?” she asked in a low, soft-spoken but slightly nasal voice, looking at him with a good bout of expectancy. “Aren’t you going to introduce me? Rumors have already started spreading about her. Is she really a …” She stopped, a light blush touching her features as she fixed her eyes on Sophie. “Please forgive me. Speaking to Will about you as though you aren’t even here. My name is Dianna, and like Will, I’m a shifter. I help train shifters with Will. Not that he needs it, of course.”

  No wonder Will seemed to have reacted before Sophie even noticed her. Maybe he could feel her approach because they were of the same kind.

  “What can you change into?” Sophie wasn’t sure if that was an appropriate question, but the shifter’s smile just widened.

  “A cougar,” she replied.

  Of course.

  “Again, forgive me for being rude, but is it true what they’re saying?” She almost sounded like she was one of her students, and Sophie’s discomfort around her only deepened. It was like she was too pretty, too nice, and the red head didn’t like being the center of attention in the first place. “Are you really a physical?”

  Sophie didn’t know how to respond so she looked up at Will, uncertainty written on her face. He seemed surprised that she went to him for advice, and while she was surprised too, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what was expected of her. He nodded then, telling her it was okay to tell Dianna if she wanted to.

  “Um, yes.” She shifted nervously once more and wished that Will would step in front of her. By now, practically the whole yard was looking at her and her face lit on fire. “Yes, I am.”

  “Wow,” Dianna murmured in a breathless voice. “That’s amazing.”

  “Dianna, we have to go,” Will said, cutting her off. He placed his hand on the small of Sophie’s back, causing her body to relax once more, even with the blatant stares. “Ethan wants me to show her around the island.”

  “Of course,” Dianna said and then smiled her dazzling smile at the young girl. “It was an honor to meet you …” She let her voice trail off as Will led Sophie away, indicating that she hadn’t gotten Sophie’s name.

  “Sophie,” she replied, before turning away from the shifter and allowing Will to lead her out. She gave herself a moment to think, and by the time they were both secluded in one of those black and yellow golf carts, she turned to Will. “That’s only because I’m new, right? It’ll go away, won’t it?”

  Will shrugged. “I don’t know, kid,” he said, not looking at her. “You’re something we’ve never seen before.”

  His taste in women was something Sophie had ignored in her limited time of knowing Will, but after meeting Dianna, she had the desire to know if what her gut was telling her was correct. She didn’t claim to know Will quite yet, but he wasn’t as hard to read as he thought. She knew that if she dared bring up his love life again, it was going to start a fight. However, she felt as though anything she wanted to know regarding him might cause him to get defensive so, really, she might as well try and get some information out of him.

  Before she could do just that, the two had arrived at a small store that seemed to cater to residents rather than tourists. Actual outfits adorned the window scene rather than ridiculous t-shirts that had Catalina Island located somewhere on the material. Will must know where all the hotspots were, and soon, she would too. The thought caused her lips to curl up; it was still hard to believe that she lived here. It wasn’t like Sophie was visiting this place or staying temporarily: No, she lived here.

  “I know Catalina is only a mile away from Southern California,” Will said as he walked her to the store, “but it’s cooler at night, so prepare for that.”

  Sophie shot him a smile as he opened the door for her. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured.

  “Will!” a voice exclaimed. “Will, is that you?”

  “Yes it is,” Will replied.

  “And who is this beautiful creature?”

  It was only when somebody grabbed her hand and placed lips on her knuckles did Sophie finally see who had called Will. He was short, not even five feet, and was from an Asian country, though her ignorance couldn’t tell her which one that was. He had short, grey hair and dark eyes, and when he spoke, his accent was still strong even though she assumed he had lived in Catalina for quite a while.

  “This is Sophie Harper,” he said once the man released her. “She’s new here.” He glanced over at her. “Sophie, this is Mamoru. He owns the place and has the best deals on clothes.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said with a warm smile, dropping her hand to her side.

  “You are very strong, Sophie,” Mamoru murmured, tilting his head back to get a better look at her. “Both inside and out. Will is very lucky to have a woman with your remarkable strength. And of course, you are very beautiful, but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

  Sophie wasn’t sure if her face could get any redder at Mamoru’s statement. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t take a compliment, but it still made her blush, especially hearing it come from a stranger. A stranger who thought she was Will’s new squeeze. As if. She was only seventeen. Maybe if they were in Europe … She probably wasn’t even Will’s type anyway. He went for shifters like himself, didn’t he? It would make sense.

  “Hurry up, okay?” Will’s cranky, gruff voice interrupted her musing, and she frowned at him. “I want to start tonight with you, remember?” He didn’t say anymore and it was probably because he didn’t want to speak about their peculiar state in front of Mamoru.

  “Discount,” Mamoru said, looking between her and Will. “Discount on all dresses. A beautiful girl like you should have the option to dress up now and then. Will, you are going to take her to Ultra, aren’t you? Here, here. I have perfect dress for Ultra.”

  Sophie knew she’d have to feign ignorance if she wanted to keep her little adventure last night to herself. “What’s Ultra?” she asked as innocently as possible.

  “Nothing,” Will said flatly before turning his attention to Mamoru. “She’s not a nightclub type of girl, Mamoru. She doesn’t need those dresses. She does need a uniform though, this one. Red, gold, and white.”

  “The hell I don’t need those dresses,” she said before she could stop herself. “Ultra is a nightclub?” She looked over at Mamoru for a response since it was obvious Will couldn’t be trusted. “There’s an actual nightclub on this island?”

  Mamoru nodded. “Underground,” he told her once they reached the dress section. “No tourists there.” Before she could ask him anything else—like maybe more about this Aiden Miller and why he was working at Ultra when he claimed to own the place, and why he thought it was necessary to be a huge ass to Elle—he had turned around and left, disappearing among the racks of clothes.

  “You aren’t allowed to go to a nightclub,” Will said in a low voice. He was standing right behind her so she could feel his hot breath on her neck. “You can’t go off-campus afterhours.”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” she retorted and began to look through the dresses. “As long as I return to my dorm before curfew, I can go wherever I want.”

  Sophie had never owned a dress before. Skirts, sure, but never a dress she could wear out dancing. The prospect thrilled her. There were all various shades of colors, cuts, lengths, and fits. They all sort of reminded her of condiments too; there was one dress that resembled the color of mustard while another resembled ketchup and even one that was comparable to mayonnaise.

  It was only after her fourth trip to the fitting rooms, and the sixteenth impatient growl emitted from Will, did Sophie remember she wanted information from him regarding Dianna. Which also reminded her about somethi
ng else.

  “Hey.” He looked over at her with obvious frustration which she ignored. “Why didn’t you correct Mamoru about us?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Mamoru thinks we’re together,” she said with extra emphasis. “Why didn’t you correct him?”

  The look on his face revealed he hadn’t even realized the shop owner’s assumption. “Why didn’t you?” he asked almost defensively.

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “Never mind,” she said. “I just didn’t think you would want people to assume you were with me when I’m, like, seventeen, and you’ve been with someone like Dianna.”

  She really didn’t feel as emo as her words made her out to be, but she felt that her particular choice of diction might get him to open up about Dianna rather than to ask him point-blank about it. Though that option was definitely her Plan B if this one didn’t work out.

  “What?” Will asked.

  Not only were boys clueless, but apparently men were as well.

  Okay, Plan B it would be.

  “You and Dianna.” Sophie threw a cute pair of light blue denim jeans over her arm and gave him a pointed look. “Please don’t think that I don’t know that there’s something going on between you two. Or there was. Or something like that. I could feel the air sizzling around you two like hot peppers in soy sauce.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” Will said.

  “Are you going to deny it?” she asked him. The red head turned and locked eyes with him, pushing her brow upwards and giving him an expectant look. He gave her another one of those unreadable looks, but he didn’t say anything. This, for whatever reason, only frustrated her. “I don’t know why you would.” She turned back to a different rack of shirts. “She’s absolutely—”

  “Gorgeous,” he finished. “Yeah, I know. And so does everybody else on campus and everybody on the island. And she knows it too.” He walked toward her and stopped when he was one foot away, his hands on his hips. “Listen, kid, I’ve been around for a while. I’ve learned that looks don’t amount to shit in the long run.” His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned toward her. “Plus, the way she was looking at you …”

  “Oh shut up,” Sophie said, feeling her face turn red once more. “She was looking at me like I was some kind of Messiah. And so was everyone else. I felt like a freak.”

  “Don’t say that about yourself.” His tone had suddenly gotten low and his hands gently gripped her shoulders so she would know he was serious. “You aren’t a freak.”

  “Easy for you to say, Will,” Sophie replied, maintaining eye contact with him. She also pointedly ignored the tingles on her shoulders where his hands happened to still be. “You’re a shifter. You don’t know what it feels like to be different among peculiars.”

  “You’re right.” He sighed through his nose and looked away, but kept his hands on her. “And I’ll never know. But I’ve always been proud of who I am. You have an easier time in life than I did, kid. Even if being the spotlight is difficult for you, you don’t transform into an animal the night before, the night after, and the night of the full moon, something completely outside of your control. I can’t have a relationship with humans.”

  “If you’re so proud of who you are then why don’t you tell them?” Sophie asked. “Humans, I mean. Panpi.”

  “They wouldn’t understand,” he said in a voice that said the conversation was finished. He glanced at the bundle in her arms and then at what was waiting for her at the counter. “Jesus Christ, how many clothes are you getting?”

  “Ethan said to get a wardrobe,” Sophie said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus Mamoru said he was giving us a discount.”

  “You didn’t get any of those ridiculous dresses, did you?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

  Sophie couldn’t keep the smile off of her face if she tried. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  10

  Once Sophie left with Will, Jane turned to Elle. “Hey. I have to go to my meeting with Ethan. Are you going to be okay?”

  Elle looked surprised. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked.

  Jane raised her brows which said more than her mouth currently did.

  “Oh,” she replied flatly. “That. Jane, I know you’re Miss Peacekeeper and want everyone to get along, but I just can’t, okay? The guy was a prick. If I’m being honest, I’m more pissed off at myself for letting him get to me.”

  Jane opened her mouth, preparing to offer a reassuring word, but then promptly shut it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to comfort her friend, but speaking wasn’t a talent of hers. Writing, yes, because she had a good grasp of the English language and had a natural flair for stringing together perfectly crafted sentences that said exactly what she wanted to say. Such a gift didn’t transfer over to her speaking abilities, however. She meant well, but what she wanted to convey and what she actually said were two different things. The words came out wrong. Even though Elle knew and understood this—in fact, she found it nothing short of amusing—Jane knew this particular subject was rather sensitive to her and she didn’t want to make it worse.

  “Listen,” Elle continued, “you have a really important meeting you need to get to. I’ll be fine, I promise. See you later?”

  “See you,” Jane murmured, watching as her friend left for Ignis Hall. She knew Elle well enough to know that her friend wasn’t actually okay. But Elle was right; she had an appointment to keep.

  As she headed up the stairs, her mind drifted back to last night and, to be more exact, Cillian Franklin, the man with the blue-green eyes. He hadn’t had time to buy her a drink; Elle was arguing with one bartender while the other was buried up to her eyeballs with patrons. In the end, though, they decided to converse rather than drink. She found out that he was eighteen, a freshman at UCLA, and majored in business so he’d be able to take over his father’s successful contracting company. He visited Catalina Island every weekend because there were less people and Ultra never carded. His favorite drink was whiskey and he had a thing for blondes. He found out that she didn’t drink, which he didn’t believe at first, and when he finally did, he murmured, more to himself, “We’ll have to change that.” She explained that she was a senior at a private boarding school and an only child. That was all they got to before Jane, from the corner of her eye, saw Elle slap the bartender she had been arguing with straight across the face.

  From there, the rest was a blur. Elle stomped over to Jane and without a word, led Jane over to Sophie—easy to spot thanks to her red locks—and Brielle and then the four all but fled the club. Elle told them quite furiously her side of the story of what transpired between them. Jane was fiercely loyal to her best friend and would do anything for her, but instead of immediately jumping to her defense, she remained quiet. She was apt at playing devil’s advocate and knew that that would probably be the last thing Elle wanted to hear.

  Still … Jane wished Cillian had at least asked for her number. Not that she could give him one—while iPods and laptops were allowed in AckPec, cellphones were not. Contact with family and friends came through email, Facebook, Skype and calling the residence hall the student was assigned to directly. Phone calls were limited however, but it would have been nice to know for certain if he was interested in her, especially since she stayed up all night playing back the conversation they had over and over again. She overanalyzed every single smile, the inflections of his words, even when he would sip his drink during the conversation.

  All thoughts of Cillian vanished when she raised her hand to knock on Ethan’s office door.

  “Come in, come in!”

  Jane felt her muscles relax substantially. Ethan was in there, not Professor Depogare. Why was the door closed then?

  When the door opened, Ethan’s warm blue eyes twinkled merrily as they took in Jane. The man was beyond wealthy, and yet his suits were still as wrinkled as ever.

  “Ah, Miss Cabot,” he said, shutting the door once Jane had st
epped fully into the spacious office. “Early as always.” He gestured to a chair placed in front of his desk. Unlike Depogare when he had temporarily taken over Ethan’s desk, the surface was already completely immersed with papers, all scattered and out of order. Jane’s fingers itched to organize them. “Can I get you anything to eat, drink?” he asked as he walked around to his side of the desk.

  “No, thank you,” Jane said as she took a seat. She rolled her shoulders back and made sure to look the dean in the eyes despite how nervous she was. “Thank you for offering.”

  “Of course, of course.” He took his seat directly across from her. He rested his forearms on the paper-clad desk—the clutter not seeming to bother him all that much—and interlocked his fingers. He met Jane’s eyes with a relaxed look on his face. “So. How can I help you? How is Year Six treating you?”

  “Uh …” Ethan was notorious from jumping from one subject to another. “The first two days were fine, sir.”

  He waved his hand at the formal title. “I know I’m old, Miss Cabot, but even I think sir is too old for me,” he said with a smile. “How can I help you, then?”

  “Sir, I know this is going to be hard to believe—oh, I’m sorry, I know you told me not to call you sir; it just came out—but I promise that it’s the truth. Don’t ask me how it happened because, honestly, I don’t know. I really don’t know. It just happened and, okay?” She stopped herself, needing to take a breath.

  “Well?” Ethan asked. The look on his face was still friendly, but Jane could detect a slight bit of worry in his eyes. “What is it?”

  And just like that, like a wildfire that was just drenched in gasoline, she exploded. The words stumbled over each other and she wasn’t certain if she was coherent, but she plowed through until all that she needed to say was said.

  She inhaled deeply. It was now or never. “Well,” she said, rubbing her palms up and down her denim-clad thighs. “I’m an animus, as you know. I’ve been reading minds since I was a baby. But lately … lately, I’ve been able to move things with my mind on top of reading thoughts. Like, I’m both animus and physicus. But that’s not possible.” She looked at him for confirmation, a slight wrinkle in her brow. “Right?”