by Leela Ash
“Well, you said you’re injured, right?”
“Yeah.”
Phones were a miserable way to deliver bad news. If only he was here, where she could hold him, wrap the big man in her arms and…
…do all kinds of things that were not appropriate for someone engaged to be married.
She could go down to the hospital…
And do what? You don’t know any of these people except Finn. You’re a novice, virtually a child, in their world. You’d be underfoot all the time. A pest.
But he’d be there. And she could…
No. Maybe she had serious second thoughts about this marriage. Until she actually gave up on it, though, her relationship with Finn had to stay just friendly.
So, she didn’t offer to come down – and he didn’t invite her. A fact that threw a pall over an already gloomy day. It would have been nice to be wanted, even if she shouldn’t go. A petty, selfish thought. Yet, one she couldn’t deny.
The last phone call came from the front desk. They had a package for her from Jenna Magnuson. The dossier on Finn Donnelly. Bree scrambled to get it.
It was research. Just research. Nothing wrong with that, right?
At first glance, Jenna’s thin folder disappointed. Worse, the cover letter was an apology:
Ms. Williams:
Initial inquiries didn’t turn up much. I got financials and real estate holdings but surprisingly little personal information. I can expand my investigations if you’re interested. I did locate articles on his family. It appears that ‘Finn’ is a traditional name for these Donnellys. Not sure this information is useful, but it’s enclosed.
Let me know how you want to pursue this.
Jenna
Finn had a… family?
Well, why shouldn’t he? she asked herself – even as her stomach sank. He’d never said anything about his personal life. No reason she should think he was single.
Available. Be honest. That’s what you really wanted.
Served her right for jumping to conclusions.
Flipping quickly, she skimmed the report. Finn was rich. Of course. The very idea of an impoverished Dragon was ludicrous. No college. No club memberships. No social media accounts. Yet, no marriages or births either.
Odd. Where was this ‘family’?
A quarter of the way through the slender folder, she found them. Or rather, ‘him.’
Jenna had built a proposed family tree for Finn. One she found odd.
Finn Donnelly. No birth date, no marriage. Son of…
Finn Donnelly and Lena Carlisle. Son of…
Finn Donnelly and Grace Adams. Son of…
Finn Donnelly and Sara Noleski. Son of…
On and on the list went. The women died, usually young. Four were killed in accidents. Two disappeared. Tuberculosis claimed one, cancer two.
The ‘men’? No deaths or personal information on any of them. A fact that baffled Jenna, but to Bree, the solution was obvious.
They were all one man. Her Finn. Dragons were either immortal or damn close to it.
These are his wives. They’re the women he’s loved.
The women he lost. Not one had lived to forty.
The world seemed to tilt beneath her as she studied the clippings. She was a Hare. Did this mean that she, too, would live forever?
How could she marry Daven, knowing that he would grow old and die in the course of a normal lifetime?
Not that any of Finn’s wives made it that long. Fires, car accidents, hit and runs… one by one, they died, ‘taken too early.’
Just like her parents, who drowned on vacation and left her to be raised by her grandmother. A tragic accident… or so she’d been told.
Looking at that list of Finn’s losses, her faith in bad luck withered. No one was this cursed. This was the work of an enemy – probably the Fangs of Apophis that he’d mentioned.
And if the Fangs murdered these women, why not her parents? They had to have been Shifters too.
Bree flopped back against the soft, cotton pillows and stared numbly at the ceiling. Everything she thought she knew – about the world, her life, her past – was falling apart.
No wonder Finn said he didn’t know if he could go through this again.
Hell, she wasn’t sure she could go through a marriage even once – let alone ten times.
Time passed. The television muttered in the background while she ignored it, her mind tossed by warring emotions. Anger, shock, pity for Finn and her parents. Too many thoughts, too many feelings to make sense.
Eventually, her grumbling stomach reminded her that living things needed to eat. She ordered a hamburger and a bottle of wine then curled back up until room service’s knock drew her out of her funk.
When she opened the door, Daven – not dinner – waited for her.
“Hey, babe!” A peck on the cheek and he breezed past her. “Damn, you look terrible. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was lying down.” Close enough to the truth.
Today, she couldn’t look at her fiancé in the same innocent way. He was human – while she was a Shifter. What did that mean for them? Twenty years from now, he’d have grey hair. His youthful vigor would crumble as he slid into old age. And her? She wouldn’t look a day older.
Could she still love him? She thought so – but could anyone know for sure?
One thing she did know, however, is that Daven would hate her. As she watched him, he paused in front of the mirror and whisked a stray hair back into place. He was proud of his looks. He’d die of jealousy if they faded while hers remained.
“Why don’t you get cleaned up and we can catch dinner?”
“I’d love to, but I already ordered room service.”
“So, cancel it. It’s only money.”
Now what? Having said ‘I’d love to’ made it awkward to admit that, honestly, tonight, she just wanted to hide from the world. Once more, like always, Bree found herself going with the flow just to avoid a scene.
“Sure! Give me a minute to freshen up.”
So much for the great ‘predator.’ Maybe she really was a bunny.
A ‘thump’ from deep inside her warned that her Hare didn’t appreciate being dissed like that.
New dress. Fresh makeup. Teeth and hair brushed. Ten minutes later, when she stepped out of the bathroom, she almost felt good about getting outside.
“Ready?”
Daven sat on her bed, the pages of the ‘Finn Donnelly’ report strewn around him. He didn’t look up when she spoke.
“You’re really obsessed with this guy, aren’t you?”
Oh, for crying out loud, not this again! “No, I’m not. I asked Jenna to look into him.”
“Do you investigate everyone who looks at property near you?”
“Yes. All the ones that offer me four times my asking price, anyway.”
“Four times?” Greed startled him out of his sulk.
“Yup. Now you understand my ‘sudden’ interest in selling.” Not true – but he’d never believe that faerie ghosts made her house intolerable. Hell, even she barely believed it!
“I hope you’ve accepted! That’s a fortune!”
“Not yet. I just got the report a couple hours ago.”
“Why did you want all this crap?”
“Because what if four times isn’t enough?” Lies spilled out, a spider’s web of untruth that sounded oh so plausible. “What if he’s in mining – and knows there’s gold under this area? Or he works for some state legislator and has insider knowledge of a project that will raise property values?”
“That’s my shark!” Daven murmured lovingly, as if that was the sexiest thing you could say to a woman. He tossed the financials back on the bed and came to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “So, does he know something?”
“Not that I can see, no. Just seems to be a rich eccentric who’s in love with the artesian spring on my land.”
“Mmm.” He nuzzled her neck, slipping the str
ap of her dress down her shoulder.
Dammit, if he kept this up, she’d have to get dressed again.
The thought filled her with shame. Seriously, her fiancé came onto her and the only thing she cared about was her dress? That was not a good sign.
A nudge, and the other strap slipped off. Freed, the whole dress started to slide down. “How about we skip dinner and do something more interesting? Ever made love in a Jacuzzi?”
She had – with him, in fact. Twice. Guess that hadn’t been as memorable to him as it was to her.
Whiskers flaring, ears alert, her Hare came alive. Bree could feel it stirring inside her. Sensing some current of Fate she couldn’t see.
So that was the source of her intuition? Those uncanny hunches and lucky guesses that sent her career skyrocketing? Fate flowed like a river around living creatures. And her soul, her Hare, could sense its movements.
Now it warned her that she stood on the brink of a precipice. What she chose now would change her world. How, Bree had no idea. But this was the fulcrum, the crisis. Her answer to this question would set her Fate.
What question? she asked her Hare. Whether or not to have sex in a hot tub? That’s the question that determines my Fate for all time?
Thumper stayed silent, its ears swiveling madly.
Her silken dress slithered down around her ankles, leaving her standing in just her underwear. Daven, not waiting for her answer, cupped her breasts.
I need to decide soon, or this decision is going to get made for me.
Did she want to make love to Daven? Not right now, no. She was tired, hungry, and upset. But it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten talked into a fling. Daven was hot and, clearly, ready to go right now. With a little effort, she could get into the mood herself. No big deal. Why not?
Thump.
Her Hare approved of that question.
Okay, why not? Well, she was tired. All she really wanted to do was eat and go to bed.
Thump thump thump thump thump.
Wrong answer, that flurry of stamps said.
All she really wanted was…
…to have Finn show up, uninvited and unexpected. He’d take her in his arms, promise that everything would be all right. That she had a place in this mad new world. That he would protect her from the monsters out there.
Bree stiffened as the problem came into focus.
What she really wanted was another man.
Not her fiancé.
Having done its job, her Hare huddled up in a small ball and waited for her decision.
If she had any doubts, she needed to postpone the wedding. Yet, some instinct warned her that Daven wouldn’t tolerate being put on hold. Ready or not, the decision was here.
Did she love Daven? No, not really. On Friday, that didn’t bother her. When he proposed, she didn’t believe love existed. Now…
Now, she wondered.
About the way the world lit up every time she saw Finn. The safety she felt when he was near. His solid, unshakable honesty. The flutters that filled her stomach when they touched. The aching grief that filled her when she read about the women he’d lost.
Was that love?
She didn’t know. But whatever it was, it was beautiful. A rainbow running from passion to grief, holding every emotion she could name. It filled her life with wonder and joy. Under its light, the future became a glorious adventure – not a tedious slog toward death.
With Daven, none of that existed.
‘Love’ or not, didn’t that answer the question?
“Daven, stop.” Gently, she pushed his hands away. “Not right now. I’m tired and really hungry.”
“I could get some fruit. Feed you in the hot tub.” He reached for her again.
“Sorry, not tonight.” Backing away, she headed for the closet with its complementary bath robe. Easier than trying to snatch up her dress from between his feet.
THUMP THUMP THUMP!
One quick warning, then her Hare vanished.
What was wrong with that creature? Sure, Daven was upset. Once more, that annoying pout spoiled his good looks. Arms folded tight across his chest telegraphed his displeasure. He was angry.
But dangerous? No. This was Daven, after all. The man was not dangerous.
Was he?
Then why had her Hare bolted down some mystical rabbit hole?
“It’s because of that asshole, isn’t it?”
“Daven, stop. I’m just tired.” Her Hare might think this was a one-way street, but Bree wanted to keep her options open if she could.
“I saw you two holding hands,” he spat.
“For the last time, we weren’t holding hands!”
“I saw you!” he wailed, his voice rising to a shrill cry. “Not a week after we got engaged and you were already hitting on some other guy!”
“The hell I was!” she screamed back. Let the people in the next room hear. She didn’t give a damn.
Daven laughed and closed his eyes. “I am such an idiot!”
A cool draft whispered through the room, raising goosebumps along her bare arms. Daven stilled, his words growing softer. “And he doesn’t even realize that, by that point, you had already given yourself to another.”
Who didn’t realize what? That accusation didn’t make a bit of sense.
Until her fiancé opened his eyes and there was nothing there except darkness. “Your vows wither before the moon grows full again. And yet, you babble of devotion that will last eternity.”
Suddenly, her Hare’s flight made perfect sense. Without a word, Bree made like a rabbit and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Click. The lock snapped shut.
Soft footsteps approached. Muttered words, like a pool of filth, spilled under the door. “…faithless… fickle…polluted…muddled…”
The knob rattled. Bree backed away, searching for a weapon. Toilet paper? Jeez, no. The shower rod? Flimsy as hell.
BANG! The creature threw itself against the door.
Aha! The toilet! She snatched the lid off the tank. Hefty and solid, her makeshift ‘bat’ took the edge off her fear.
BANG! With a crack, the frame began to splinter.
A dull ‘thud’ echoed from outside. A tremor ran through the floor and suddenly, the night air along with the shrieks of car alarms filled the room.
Finn! That had to be the sound of a Dragon landing in a parking lot. A wild, delirious grin spread across her face.
My Mate. He knows I’m in danger.
BANG! The crack widened, and her relief shriveled. Finn might be here. But he was outside – and he wouldn’t make it in time.
The lid in her hands was a cold, deadly weight. Could she really bash someone with it? No, not ‘someone’. Daven. Her former fiancé. He might not be in control of himself, but it was his body she’d have to hurt.
Or even kill.
Unless she could think of a better plan.
Like… do what she did best. Talk!
Ignoring her Hare’s urge to run, Bree forced herself to inch closer to the door. “Hey, hello? Guy on the other side? What’s your name?”
A hiss of disgust, as if a cockroach had crept up and addressed him. “Names have power. I will not give you mine.”
“Fair enough. You can talk about your grievances, though, can’t you?”
“Grievances.”
Okay, not very chatty. But at least he’d stopped throwing Daven’s body at the door. “Maybe if I understand your position better, we can find common ground. Right now, I don’t understand your goals.”
“You should be shredded.”
‘Shredded.’ Creepy as hell. Though that was the second time he’d used that freaky word. “Why do I need to be shredded?”
“To separate.”
Come on, Finn! “Separate what, precisely?”
“The pure and impure.”
“What’s impure in me?” If you wanted people to run on at the mouth, ask for complaints, not comp
liments.
Sure enough, the shadow thing began to rave, snarling about pollution and unclean mixing of ‘adan’ and ‘oru.’ Who knew what those things were?
Bree didn’t, and didn’t care. As long as he kept raving, it didn’t matter what he babbled about. All she needed to do was wind him up. A prod here, a prompt there. A few questions to keep him ranting until…
With a tremendous crash, the door to her room shattered.
Sorry, Mr. Monster. My Dragon’s not bouncing off a door three times.
“What the hell are you doing?” Finn roared.
A loud, unmanly yelp suggested Daven was in control of his body once again.
“Finn, wait!” Hoping to save the poor lawyer from unnecessary pain, Bree yanked the door open.
The Dragon stood, feet planted wide, one hand closed around the front of Daven’s shirt. The lawyer back-peddled furiously, feet slipping on the rug. Finn held him with effortless ease and when he spotted her, nearly naked, an eerie flame lit his blue eyes.
“Did this worm hurt you?” he snarled through gritted teeth.
“No! Adanai!”
That word cut through the Dragon’s growing rage. “Still here?”
She shook her head.
“Let go of me, you asshole!”
Finn did. Threat gone, he spared the other man no more thought than a gnat. “Are you all right, Bree?”
‘Bree.’ Not ‘Ms. Williams.’ And even though he tried to hide it, she saw how his hand rose, instinctively, toward her. How his first urge was to comfort her.
“Yes. I’m fine. Just startled. And,” her nose wrinkled as she remembered what she was (not) wearing, “half naked.”
Released from the Dragon’s grasp, Daven recovered his courage. “You’re in big trouble, buddy. That was assault! I don’t give a damn who you are! I’m calling the police.”
Eyes narrowing, Finn turned toward the lawyer like a mastiff rounding on an irate Chihuahua.
Time to break this up for good. “No, Daven, you’re not calling the police. If you do, you’ll have to explain why you chased me into the bathroom and almost broke down the door. All because I didn’t want to go to bed with you.”
That was a low blow, since it hadn’t really been ‘him’ who assaulted her. But she was tired, and hungry, and sick of Daven’s posturing.