“Because you were a major and I was a lieutenant. You were a doctor and I was a nurse. We didn’t want you to risk charges of sexually harassing your subordinate.”
She sighed again. As if this was a well-rehearsed sorrow. “When you went on that rescue mission, I was two days away from discharge. We intended to tell the world once I was no longer in the Army. But...” her voice trailed away.
“Oh. What a SNAFU.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and Carmody.”
He felt her head come up. “Not your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were in the hospital. I ran away after the accident. Left Hawaii and holed up in Mystic Bay. Didn’t contact my friends. Just grieved. Were you in the hospital long?”
“Not your fault,” he replied. “I was in the ICU for a while.” Months, but she felt bad enough. “I’m sorry I forgot you.”
She smiled wistfully. “I guess I shouldn’t complain, seeing as you forgot yourself.”
Huh? “Did we plan the baby?”
“Nope. Not at all.”
Another thing to apologize for. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“I’m not. Carmody is the best thing that ever happened to me. When I discovered I was pregnant it gave me a reason to keep going. And she’s my whole life.”
“I can see that. My folks are going to be very happy to have another grandchild.”
She sighed even more deeply. “I know I should have told them about Carmody, but I could never figure out how to have them in her life, and keep the fact she’s a phoenix-unicorn hybrid a secret from the Mystic Bay Town Council.”
He snorted. “Pack of old fools.”
“I guess.”
“So what’s wrong with our girl? Why doesn’t your mom like her?”
Samantha’s voice was resigned but glum. “Mom thinks Carmody is going to turn out to be a psychopath because her father isn’t a unicorn. Discovering that you are not just not-a-unicorn but actually a hunter has thrown her for a loop.”
“George Washington! Where on earth did she dig up such a crazy idea?”
“It’s a West Haven myth. People here are wary of hybrid offspring. Mom didn’t know Carmody’s dad was a hunter, not until yesterday. Not for certain. Also she disapproves of Carmody’s refusal to fold her hands and sit quietly when there is a whole world out there to explore.”
“Well, sure. What else? That’s what kids do. Isn’t it?”
“Not unicorn foals.”
“Huh.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Samantha~
Lying here in the spare room, she imagined she could hear Rafael breathing. His smell suffused the entire cabin. Some potent blend of masculine musk and pure Rafael D’Angelo. A well-remembered scent. Her hormones, which had been on extended leave, seemed to have come marching back raring to go. She was way too aroused to sleep.
She might have taken care of herself, if she hadn’t felt obliged to leave their doors open. After all she was supposed to be monitoring him. Was he asleep yet? His hearing was super acute. Even more sensitive than she remembered from Hawaii. She didn’t want him to hear her in the throes of climax. A unicorn is always discreet.
She thought back over the day. Never in a million years would she have imagined a shotgun wedding being romantic. But it had been. The trees in the Old Forest had seemed to approve of their union. The music played by the dryads had been unbelievably moving, joyful and nostalgic at once.
Her now vanished gown had made her feel like a queen. She had felt beautiful. Bridal. Even though her mother had been disapproving. Even though she couldn’t touch Rafael directly.
She ran her thumb over the ring on her left hand. After four years of hiding it between her breasts, it felt weird to wear it on her hand. Touching it made her feel hopeful. Maybe they could have a happy ever after, as Robin had suggested.
Rafael did seem improved. Not completely better, but improved. His color had remained good. He was eating well. Drinking without being prompted. Acting in general as if he was self-motivated. Which was key to recovering from depression.
She had ducked giving him more therapy tonight. It had felt so peaceful and ordinary to sit talking to him, that she didn’t want to interrupt it with searing pain. Not on their wedding night. She no longer thought he would die, so it wasn’t urgent. But still she had avoided her responsibility. A unicorn always honors her commitments.
It was a good sign that he had begun humming when they were doing the dishes after supper. Wasn’t it? Maybe he was remembering himself. In Hawaii he had always had a tune for everything. He had told her that phoenixes were innately musical. That in his family you sang to make a job go faster, or to help you remember, or to achieve your goal. And Carmody had hummed before she could speak. Turned every nursery rhyme into a song of her own. Another trait Mom found suspect.
Out of the darkness, a melody of heartbreaking beauty filled the cabin. Rafael was singing. She should go to him. But her eyes shut. She would listen for a bit, and then go see if he needed anything. It was her last thought until daylight woke her. She had been dreaming. She could not recall her dream, but she knew what she must do.
The cabin was still, except for the hum of the fridge. She felt rested. She flexed her right hand. It didn’t ache and the fingers and wrist were back to normal. So the side effects caused by touching Rafael were only temporary. Her path was clear. A unicorn always does her duty, however hard or unpleasant.
Rafael was not in bed. His bed was made. The covers tight enough to pass inspection. In case his CO happened by. She had watched him turn them down last night, so that was a good sign. He had always been military neat, preferring his surroundings to be spick and span. Just as she did. He was sitting on the couch, drinking water. His head turned and he smiled at her.
“No coffee?” she asked.
“I don’t turn on the stove,” he said ruefully.
“I’ll make some.”
“Thank you. How did you sleep?”
“Wonderfully. Did you sing me a lullaby?”
“Yup. Did it work?”
“I went out like a light. My hand feels back to normal too. Thanks.”
“This feeling I have of wanting to burst into song, that’s a phoenix thing, right?” he asked cautiously.
“You tell me. You’re the phoenix.”
“Except I haven’t been.” He was frowning. “It’s strange, but it feels like there are memories I can’t access. But except for not knowing what happened in Honolulu for the six months or so before the accident, I hadn’t been aware of any gaps in my memory.”
“That’s how memory loss works. Your brain just accepts that there is nothing to recall. People around you can perceive the deficit, but you can’t. What does your family say?”
“Not much. Mostly they tiptoe around me.”
“Hmm. Let’s drink some coffee. And eat some breakfast.” It would be easier to do what she had to do if she had eaten.
He seemed animated enough as he put away the omelet she made him, and he matched her slice for slice on the stack of toast with peanut butter. “Should I make some more?” she asked.
“No thanks, but I’d like another cup of coffee, please.”
She filled his mug. “You up for going outdoors?” she asked. “After we’ve done the dishes.”
“Sure. I ran down the stairs before you got up. And then up. I wasn’t even breathing hard. I sure couldn’t do that before you showed up.”
“That’s good. What about sunlight? Does it still bother your eyes?”
“Not as much. What are we going to do outside?”
“Play in the Old Forest.”
He chuckled. “Why do you call it that?”
She explained as he washed and she dried. He hummed the dish-washing tune, and the job was soon done. She told him about the primeval forest where the ancient trees ruled and the dryads invested the trees with life.
“There is no hunting anywhere on West Haven, but
particularly in the Old Forest,” she concluded. “In fact, it’s best to ask permission before you do anything in there.”
“I see.”
“If you anger the Old Forest, there’s no telling what their revenge will be. People say a couple years back they drove this grizzly shifter mad for hunting there*.”
He was skeptical. “Really?”
“Uh huh. You watch your step, husband.”
He grinned at her. “I’ll do that thing, wife.”
The air felt soft and new made. She took his arm thorough the sleeve of his shirt, barely felt the shock. Just a deep and abiding connection. “This way.”
“Are we revisiting our wedding venue?”
“Yup. It’s the biggest clearing nearby.”
“Okay. You want to tell me what is going on?”
“I am going to try a little unicorn magic on your soul.”
“What?”
“Relax. This is going to hurt me worse than it hurts you.”
He chuckled, but she was no longer feeling blithe. Just determined. A unicorn does not turn away from suffering. A unicorn fulfills her obligations.
“Are you taking off your clothes?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Am I going to get lucky?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should I take off my own clothes?” He was openly smirking now.
“Just unbutton your shirt.”
Samantha took unicorn. Felt the sense of power suffuse her being as she grew tall and muscular and her gifts intensified. Rafael turned to the sound of her stamping hoofs. “Did you just shift?”
She neighed.
“Huh. Where are you?” He whistled and relaxed.
She walked forward slowly. Steadily. Until her horn pressed into his chest. He backed away until a tree stopped him. She walked forward, pressing harder into his chest. With a sigh, her horn pierced his flesh and then his heart. The world stopped.
The agony made her knees buckle. She felt his pain as her own. It rippled outward in waves of searing fire. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move. Her eyes wanted to close but they remained open. Staring into his sightless blue orbs. The pain was red hot, scalding. She was dying. They were dying. Not even her unicorn power could counter his damaged aura.
And then, just as the elders had always said, the tip of her horn broke off in Rafael’s heart and she was free. Or was she?
*Desired by the Dragon
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Rafael~
He had been amused that Samantha was trying to seduce him by returning to the scene of the crime. But as he would have followed her into the arctic desert, let alone into the sweet, mossy, coolness of a Pacific Northwest forest, he had gone willingly.
There was something energizing about the atmosphere in the Old Forest of West Haven. It seemed to have some intrinsic paranormal vibe that was both restorative and sacred. Sort of like Samantha.
His sexual arousal always simmered around her. Didn’t take much to take it to a boil. He didn’t need the Old Forest to be ready for his bride. He had willingly unbuttoned his shirt, wondering why she thought that would suffice.
He heard the same soft footfalls he had when had she arrived at the cabin two days ago. Something hard poked him over the heart. He took an instinctive backward step and came up against the rough bark of a tree. Samantha used the weight of her entire body and stabbed him deeply through the heart. Richard Nixon. His bride had killed him.
He heard a snap. Like the sound of a glass rod breaking. The intense pain in his heart spread like a wildfire. And with the same rapidity. The agony stopped his breathing. Samantha had set him alight. He and the fire became one. He wrapped himself protectively in the flames. He mustn’t burn down the forest.
As he had been warned, the temptation to burn to ash was great. He knew that the fire would end his suffering. Make him one with the earth and the heavens. Lead him to paradise. Only the thought of his Samantha and his child pulled him back from the brink. He gathered his strength and shot up through the green branches into the blazing midday sky.
Samantha was circling, looking for him. Flying. As soon as she spotted him, she flapped hard and took off. He could see every hair of her brilliant golden coat rippling in the air currents, each one sharply defined.
Surely she had been a white unicorn before? Or was that a hallucination? Her bright purple mane and tail fluttered in the breeze. Her feathery fetlocks were the same vibrant color and they blew this way and that, like small flags attached to her lower legs.
The tip of her horn was missing. Snapped off cleanly about two inches from the tip. Like her hoofs, it was a clear translucent gold. Unlike her hoofs it had a deep-purple internal spiral that ran from base to snapped-off tip. He could feel that tip in his heart as a distinct and powerful throbbing.
The pain had passed. Only glory remained. The ripples of sensation were still intense. But pain or pleasure didn’t enter into it. It was just pure bliss surging through his body like shockwave after shockwave of tsunamis. He had imagined he could easily catch Samantha. After all he was a phoenix and she had become a Pegasus. How could a clumsy hybrid like that outmaneuver a phoenix?
But he was reeling from whatever the horn was doing to him. He felt strong and invincible. Healed in mind and body. Yet however hard he tried he could not catch up to Samantha. And yet the attempt filled his spirit with joy. If this was a prelude to death, death was not to be feared but to be embraced.
Come back to me.
No answer.
He sighed. For one brief moment he had thought her transformation meant they shared a telepathic phoenix bond. That she had reconsidered her decision not to swallow the Egg of Immortality. George Washington. His memory had returned! He could recall his courtship of his shy, elusive unicorn in every exquisite detail.
And then he had no room for thoughts, because the most beautiful winged horse in the world was surging through the sky towards him like a golden meteor. This was his wife. This their first flight together. This was no time for memories, nostalgic or regretful. This was the time to make memories.
He spun on his tail feathers and spread his wings to catch the rising thermals. He let the air currents swing him sideways, giving him a burst of speed. His beak opened. His serenade of love and longing filled the air. Instantly, Samantha wheeled in the sky and flew toward him as if drawn by some irresistible force. The force of love.
They danced in the air. An instinctive, stately waltz in time to the love songs bursting from his throat. He spread his wings to show her the flaming undersides, and dove beneath her golden hoofs before he could stall out. Emerged on the other side to repeat his tour de force with elated swoops and dives. She outshone his playful acrobatics by floating effortlessly above him with only the faintest of wing beats.
Hour after hour they shared the empty sky, until Samantha turned gracefully and flew back to the cabin. She landed neatly on all four hoofs and trotted behind the log house. By the time he had caught up and landed she had vanished indoors. He completed his shift to human and raced after her.
She wasn’t in the living room, nor in the bedrooms. Neither of them. He heard her giggle from the bathroom. She was peeping out from behind the shower curtain, her lovely face alight with happiness. Her joy dimmed when her eyes moved down his body.
“You’re bleeding,” she gasped.
He looked down. Looked down! Blood trickled from the wound on his chest. Abraham Lincoln! “Yeah. You gored me. I guess it’s payback time.”
“Do you plan to gore me?” She voice was playful, earnest, joyful all at once.
He waved a hand at his cock. “My horn isn’t purple and gold, sweetheart, but I think it will get the job done.”
She stepped out of the shower and ignored his rampant dick. She set her mouth on the wound and kissed it. As if she had finished the cure, the pulsing in his body became less like raging surf, and more like the steady lapping of waves in a ca
lm sea. Bliss filled him body and soul. Or grace. Whatever.
“I can see,” he informed her. He enjoyed the warm blush that tinted her pink from her toes to the crown of her beautiful pale purple hair. Not excepting her ripe and beautiful bosom. “You really are a natural lilac bush.”
“Rafael D’Angelo,” she protested.
“Don’t you like it when I talk dirty?”
She turned a deeper pink. “Very much.”
“Besides, we’re married. Aren’t we?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Mystic Bay,
Sully~
He caught Robin up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. “Do you doubt our abilities as matchmakers, my darling?” He punctuated his questions with hard kisses.
“No. But I think that Maj. D’Angelo and Samantha have a long way to go before he is healed. He is grievously wounded. A piece of paper doesn’t make them truly mated.”
He kissed her again. “I don’t believe a couple joined in wedlock by the greatest fairy in the history of West Haven has any choice but to be happy. But I am a patient man.” He carried her off to his bedroom, a pirate with his prize.
A long time later, she snuggled closer to his chest and pulled his curls gently. “I don’t know what the town will say,” she murmured.
“About Rafael and Samantha?”
She pulled harder. “About us.”
“I think we should face them down, my dearest fairy.”
She sat up astonished. Fairies were never surprised. But he had surprised Robin. Her green eyes were frankly puzzled. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean that you should let me put my ring on your finger and give you my name. Move into my house. That we should keep our positions on the council and stand for re-election. If our neighbors think that we’re going to collude against them, we might as well know first as last.”
“Huh.”
“You think about it. Anyone who believes that being married would make you stop being the most responsible person on the council, or that I would vote against my conscience, is an idiot. If we’re surrounded by fools, surely it’s better to find out before we get much older.”
Fated for the Phoenix: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 5) Page 13