The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  Heck, I’d only been trying to warn those fishermen not to go out to sea because of what I’d seen in my vision. And what had it earned her? A bloody, torturous death in a barrel embedded with spikes tearing at her. A death so painful it had ripped at her soul that she stupidly combined with the women whose body she’d taken over. She’d learnt her lesson that day. Sticking to her guns for years, she’d never repeated her mistake.

  Ingrates.

  A little voice inside her told her that she wanted that connection again, regardless of what had happened to her in the past. Christina shuddered as she rubbed at her arms, trying to shake off the memories.

  Oh, she’d tried to kid herself that they could go back to the way they were with Max, but it saddened her to acknowledge it was never going to happen the way she wanted it to. And somehow with this knowledge, her world had tilted on its axis, leaving her feeling entirely out of sorts. She’d been contemplating what she was going to do next, and okay, maybe I’ve been sulking, but who cared? Then the sound of tinkling laughter, so free and happy, pulled her from her moody thoughts and contemplations while she sat in a large oak tree on the edge of the Dartmoor woods.

  Her gaze moved until she found the source of the sound. It lingered on the child as he chatted, giggled, and acted carefree, unaware of her presence. There was something pure about the child that drew her as he spoke to the woman walking with him in the forest. She craved that innocent beauty, the brightness that emanated from his soul lighting the space around him. Pulling her towards him, she moved without thought. Like never before, the need to be one with him, take over his soul, was shocking and left her breathless. But there was one major drawback: he was male. The king had been particular she could only take over a willing female soul, and there was to be no coercion.

  She hummed, shrugging her tiny shoulders.

  What the eye doesn’t see, the heart won’t grieve, right?

  The boy’s name was Nick, and hadn’t it been a kicker when she had found that Max, her kitty cat, was bonded with Nick’s brother, Aaden. It had given her pause, but she now felt the fates had somehow put Nick in her path for a reason. And as far as she was concerned, that reason was to give her what she wanted: a life near her previous charge, Max.

  So she had followed him and the woman while her mind had worked through her options. Now weeks later, she was still undecided as to how to make her wish come to reality. Her eyes narrowed on Nick as her mind travelled back to the present.

  The child was so slight; his body as yet had not developed fully. His silver-blond hair gleamed under the moonlight as it flowed behind him. It lit the darkness like a bright star guiding the way to wherever he was going. His beautiful, delicate features tensed in thought. Under the moonlight, his pale blue eyes resembled the ocean, deep and fathomless, as he ran through the forest. His little chest heaved, and his breath came in panting gasps as his feet thudded on the dry earth, causing little puffs of dirt to lift.

  She was convinced he was unaware of anything going on around him. His mind seemed wholly occupied with getting somewhere and getting there as quickly as possible.

  Christina tilted her head, pausing as Nick’s footsteps slowed and he crouched behind a large old cedar tree.

  She listened.

  The slight sound of voices in the distance caught her attention.

  Her lips twitched.

  She’d overheard earlier Nick’s brother asking his friend Brody if he wanted to go camping in the forest. It would seem the little bugger didn’t want to be left out. She chuckled silently as she moved closer to Nick so that she could observe the others.

  Her chuckle died as the light from the moon caught Nick’s face, illuminating the want in his eyes. His nostrils flared, reminding her of an animal who’d scented their mate.

  Her tiny hand moved to her stomach as it rocked and rolled. A shiver ran up her spine. Her hazel eyes searched the forest, for what she wasn’t sure. But the sense of unease that was sliding up her back wouldn’t leave, even when she could see nothing alarming.

  She twisted slightly to keep Nick in her line of vision as she perched on a branch. His face now shadowed by night made it hard for her to determine what he was thinking. Swapping branches, she edged closer to watch Nick.

  The small campfire spat noisily as it glowed eerily under the vast canopy of trees sheltering the boys from the night. The sweet scent of burnt marshmallow mingled with the smell of burning wood. The boys’ scruffy ripped shorts and T-shirts hugged their developing teenage muscles as they wrestled on the two green sleeping bags that lay on the hard ground.

  Christina sniffed the air again when she spotted the half-empty bottle of alcohol lying in the dirt, forgotten. Unconcerned that she was intruding, she listened in on their conversation.

  “Come on, Aaden, why’d you always have to win? I know you’re bigger, but why do you always have to be on top?”

  The gruff huffy frustration in Brody’s voice had Christina smother a chuckle. Oh, she knew precisely why Aaden wanted Brody on the bottom, only she wasn’t sure Brody did. This was confirmed when Brody bucked his hips, causing a low groan to escape from Aaden’s heaving chest as he struggled to keep Brody under him.

  “What’s with you and the cow eyes you were throwing at my brother the other day? Don’t think I didn’t notice. What’s up with that?”

  The breathless question from Aaden caused Brody to still, and his cheeks darkened.

  Christina’s brow arched. Holding her breath, she waited for his response. She glanced back at Nick. She could tell he’d heard the question by the stillness in his body and the air of expectation as he waited for Brody to respond.

  “What the fuck do you mean cow eyes? I ain’t got a clue what the fuck you’re talking about, man.” Brody pushed at Aaden’s chest, struggling to get out from under his heavy weight.

  The frustration was evident in the hard lines of his face, but Christina heard the unease in Brody’s voice as he swiped the bottle off the ground, chugging from it as if his life depended upon it. He handed the bottle to Aaden. “Here, put that in your mouth and stop talking shit.”

  The feeling Brody was lying had the unease she’d felt moments ago rise like an angry sea thrashing off the rocks. Only instead of a smooth surface that the water could create, she felt just a roughness fraying her nerves that left her antsy.

  She looked back at Nick, catching sight of his drooping shoulders.

  Oh, Goddess Freyja, this is not good.

  Did Brody have feelings for Nick and vice versa?

  The moonlight offered her a glimpse of Nick’s features again when he inched a little closer to the camp. He looked to strain to hear what Brody was saying when he dropped his voice.

  She heard the muttering. Not sure how to proceed, her eyes flicked back to Nick, and the light of determination that flashed across his face sparked her anger.

  Without thinking, she cast a spell. She wanted to stop the silly childish feelings or whatever it was that Brody and possibly Nick felt.

  Saklauss varDHa sja/Ifvili, hata hold hugr, elska. Heyra, halda. Saklauss varDHa sja/Ifvili, hata hold hugr, elska. Heyra, halda. Saklauss varDHa sja/Ifvili, hata hold hugr, elska. Heyra, halda.

  The words rose on the air times three. “Innocent guard against free will, destroy flesh desire, love. Hear of, hold fast.” The magic aimed at Brody splinted the night.

  The sky above darkened as Brody found himself wrapped in the sleeping bag with Aaden somehow sprawled across his body. His body hummed; his skin electrified. The tiny hairs rose on his bare skin, making him shiver as their lips met in a wet, sloppy kiss Brody was unsure who had initiated. When he felt Aaden’s dick push into his thigh, his mind blanked. All previous thoughts of a small blond imp who teased his senses and caused his body to ache beyond reason, disappeared.

  Brody pulled back, his chest heaving from the lack of air. He gulped several times, wiping at his spit-laden lips, not sure what had just happened. Aaden’s dark eyes pinne
d him in place for a second with the arousal he could see written over his friend’s flushed cheeks and swollen, wet lips. Aaden’s erratic breathing matched Brody’s.

  He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that made him feel off balance. Brody got a nagging suspicion something had just shifted inside him and not for the better. Struggling to get out of the sleeping bag, he avoided making eye contact with Aaden.

  Brody ignored the hardness pushing to escape his shorts, trying to fathom what spooked him. He’d known for some time he was gay, having spoken extensively to his father about it. He’d come to terms with who he was, though it had been difficult at first. Now he was comfortable in his own skin. Then why is this sudden attraction to Aaden unsettling me?

  He usually was drawn to smaller boys with a more feminine look, like Aaden’s brother. And okay, Aaden’s question had thrown him when he thought he’d kept his interest to himself. Nick was way too young for him to be thinking about him in that way. But right this minute, it was like someone had flipped a switch and all he could think about was big, large muscles, and that was so not him.

  The more he thought about it, the harder his brain hurt as if someone was putting a clamp on his head and was squeezing it tightly. He lifted his hands and rubbed at his temples, feeling the weight of Aaden’s stare.

  Aaden’s slurred words had him finally meeting his gaze.

  “You oright?”

  The loaded question somehow eased the tension in his head, and Brody laughed. “You trying to turn me gay, man? Well, you’re too late, ‘cause I am.”

  Brody continued to giggle at the wide-eyed expression on Aaden’s face. Then Aaden started laughing hard, tears leaking down his dirt-smeared face.

  Brody collapsed back onto the sleeping bag, his mind foggy. He snuggled into Aaden’s side, talking shit as they often did about everything.

  Brody rubbed at his tired eyes, blinking twice. He sat up, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. His eyes narrowed, searching the trees thinking he’d seen Nick’s blond head bobbing behind a tree. He narrowed his eyes and kept his gaze riveted to the trees until his eyes ached.

  “What’s up?”

  Seeing nothing, he shook his head at Aaden. He relaxed back, thinking he was mistaken. He laid his head on Aaden’s solid chest, nestling in. He enjoyed the large solid muscles as they flexed and moved under his cheek. His dick twitched at the musky scent of sweat mixed with Aaden’s masculine odour. Settling, he dropped his arm over Aaden’s waist. His mind shut down; he drifted to sleep.

  Christina let out a relieved breath as she focused on Brody’s thoughts. She repeated the spell while he slept. She wanted to make sure it held and wouldn’t be broken inadvertently by something she’d missed by being so angry. Her family had warned her making spells with anger had a rebound effect and that the consequences could be profound. She ignored the little voice that said never mind about the anger; she’d be in more trouble because of her interfering with fate.

  Her shoulders hunched against her will, but she acted unconcerned when she searched out Nick, only to find he’d disappeared into the night. Her face lit up with a smile as she realised her plan had worked. That by throwing Brody and Aaden together it would dampen any feelings Nick had. Floating on the warm night air back along the path, she hummed in satisfaction, rubbing her hands together and formulating her plan of attack on Nick and how she was going to get what she wanted. Grinning at the moonlight, she faded into the darkness.

  Brody

  Christmas day

  Brody shifted under the duvet at the sudden pinging noise coming from his phone. Sitting up in the darkened room, he got comfortable on the king-sized bed after grabbing his phone. He twiddled with it, blinking at the sudden brightness that caused his eyes to blur before coming back into focus. His sleep-laden eyes read the text message from Luke.

  He heaved a heavy sigh, scrolling to the picture that followed the message. Rock-hard abs and an equally hard cock filled the screen. Brody squinted down at the figure laid out before him. The dark golden skin gleamed under the glow from the slender willow lamp that sat next to his bed, in his home.

  He grunted in disgust, realising Luke had made himself at home at his place while he’d been away. The urge to ring him and ask him “what the fuck he was up to” had him gripping the phone tighter. Yes, they had exchanged keys to each other’s place, but that was more for emergencies than for anything else, and it was most definitely not for Luke to move in when he wasn’t there.

  He’d never allowed anyone to do that. Hell, he’d never even considered it in all the years he’d dated. And though he’d managed to maintain some of his relationships for long periods of time, there’d never been the desire to keep it to anything other than causal. And that included Luke, though for some reason he couldn’t seem to understand that.

  Brody scratched at his head, pulling on the tangles that stood bolt upright on the top of his head. Going to bed with wet hair was not conducive to hairstyling. He chuckled, imagining how bad he looked and how horrified Luke would be seeing him looking like he’d been electrocuted.

  His humour died as he pinched his brow, again looking back at the phone screen when it darkened, the picture fading from sight.

  What am I going to do now?

  He’d met Luke several months earlier at a police luncheon held at one of the major hotels in London. Luke had bustled into the large dining room, checking that everything was up to standard and making sure the luncheon went off without a hitch. He’d snagged Brody’s attention with his domineering presence. So much so he’d asked one of the waiters who he was, not surprised to learn he was the hotel manager. Luke had commanded the room, drawing several curious stares from his colleagues.

  For Brody, he’d ticked every one of his boxes. Powerful physique, similar height along with dark golden skin, cropped raven hair, and hazel eyes that captured and held his gaze for several long minutes. As if sensing his stare, Luke had turned, scanning the room until his gaze landed on Brody. The smug, satisfied smile lighting his face when he’d strolled over, along with his confident swagger, caused Brody’s body to hum in pleasure.

  He’d been flattered at the time that this well-put-together, handsome man was showing a keen interest in him. Now, as he considered his morning wake-up call, which he was sure was meant to be a turn-on, he found his attraction had diminished. All he felt was pissed off at his lack of ability to extricate himself from Luke and his not so subtle hints about moving in together and getting engaged.

  The Christmas gift he’d received in the post a couple of days earlier had made his blood run cold. The several holiday brochures for honeymoon destinations and the card tucked inside, written in Luke’s scrawl, offering him a choice had forced him to face reality.

  Yes, he’d enjoyed his company on the whole. But all he’d felt for him was mild affection and a big dose of lust, which hadn’t lasted all that long when Luke started haranguing him about everything from his appearance to the way he ate for fuck’s sake. He’d even started on at him about the state of his home recently. Coming home from work, exhausted, after dealing with the shit that had been thrown at him that day, the last thing he’d needed was someone insisting that he clean and tidy up.

  Brody sighed when he felt his shoulders trying to say hello to his ears.

  Do I need that in my life?

  Rubbing at his temples at the resounding “no” that echoed inside his head. He growled at the empty bedroom when he couldn’t remember why they were still dating in the first place. Luke’s absence over the last couple weeks just brought home the reality of his situation.

  Isn’t absence supposed to make the heart grow fonder?

  He dropped the phone onto the bed, feeling bitterly disappointed in himself for not untangling the knots of their relationship earlier. The fact that he’d made no promises still didn’t bode well for how Luke was going to take the news it was over.

  His pearl white teeth gritted. Brody forced his jaw to unclench
when Nick jumped back into his thoughts as he’d tended to do over the last few weeks, overshadowing any notion of Luke. The images of Nick in nothing but his sexy lace underwear had him gripping his thighs when all his body wanted to do was to tangle itself in Nick. A sheen of sweat beaded his upper lip and dampened his palms.

  He gripped the back of his neck, feeling the muscles bunch under his hands.

  What is happening to me?

  He’d always had a type, and they weren’t tiny or blond. No, they’d always been more like Aaden, tall, beefy and dark. Something strange was happening to him. The last time he’d seen Nick at Aaden’s surprise birthday party the previous year, his body hadn’t behaved like this.

  The question nagged. What had changed? As far as he could remember, they’d been their normal selves, with him teasing mercilessly and Nick responding by spitting and scratching like a wild cat.

  Brody growled at the empty room. Now he felt as if someone had flipped a switch inside his brain and decorated his mind full of pictures of Nick. And no matter how many times he tried to tear the images down, they were rapidly replaced with more. It was as if a graffiti artist had taken up residence in his head, painting so fast to replace the pictures, making it impossible to stop them from multiplying. And that led to the question he’d been brooding over for days.

  Do I want to get rid of them and go back to the way it was before?

  When “no” popped into his head, he lifted his hands and went back to gripping his neck. He was grateful he was sitting on the bed. He was convinced he’d have ended up on his backside at how fast his heart and soul rejoiced at his choice.