“Technically,” Hunter began, “Monte beat you. He came closest.”
Pandora ran to my side. A chair scraped the floor, and Death shoved to his feet. Instead of using a portal like the last time he was there, he stormed toward the door.
Hunter clapped a hand down on my shoulder. “We did it, man.”
“Yeah, we did.”
It was the thought that remained in my head as we walked to the truck, but my gut told me that something—or someone—followed us.
“Not so fast, shifter.”
I whirled around and saw Death standing at the edge of the parking lot. Hunter stopped on one side of me, while Pandora stood on the other.
“What do you want?” I said, sounding braver than I felt.
“I. Don’t. Lose.”
“Here’s a news—” The sentence hung in my throat as my knees buckled.
Pandora screamed.
Then everything went black.
* * *
PANDORA
I felt Monte’s spirit leaving his body. There was still time to save him. Ignoring Hunter and that asshole of an entity coming for me, I placed my hand on Monte’s chest and called upon the Kami, the collective Shinto spirits.
“Please allow this man to live.” My heart hurt, but we discussed the possibility. It was my last ditch effort to keep him on earth. “I trade my life for Monte Tayute’s.”
His eyes fluttered but didn’t open. A hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up.
“Why would you do this? He means everything to me,” I said.
Death crouched beside me and tapped Monte’s chest. “He won’t die.”
Confusion hit me as the entity spoke like he saved Monte. The bastard was only responsible for killing him. “I saved Monte, not—”
Ignoring me, he stood and said, “You won’t die either. It’s over.”
As the entity walked into the shadows, Monte stirred. “Pandora? Are we—”
“No. We’re alive.” I glanced up at Hunter. “Help him. I’ll be back.”
I ran behind Death. “Wait, Death!”
He stopped but didn’t look at me. “Call me Azrael.”
“Azrael?”
“It’s my assigned name. Death is merely my function.”
“Oh.” Silence filled the air for an uncomfortable minute before I said, “Thank you.”
The being faced me. “Unnecessary words.”
“Is this truly over, or do I need to report—”
He lifted his enormous palm. “You don’t belong to me, and you no longer serve Izanami.”
“I don’t understand. I traded my life for Monte’s.”
“No. The Kami reached out, but I stopped them.”
“But why?”
“Because I felt your heart and your pain. You love that shifter. If I took you away from him, you’d be miserable.”
True.
“Besides, you were never meant for this line of work. I don’t know how it is that Izanami created you. Takara, you have a heart and a soul. You belong in this world.”
Death’s—Azrael’s—words should have made me happy, but they didn’t. A nervous twitch flared in my stomach. “What will happen to me?”
“Live a long life, Takara. As long as you stay in this town, nothing bad will ever happen to you.”
“And Monte?”
“The shifter’s heart now beats for the both of you. When he draws his last breath, so will you. Both of you will remain together throughout eternity.”
Gravel crunched behind me. His familiar hands wrapped around my waist. “How do we thank you?”
Azrael tilted his head to the side. “Be good to each other. Stay faithful. But, shifter, if you ever hurt her . . . If you ever make Takara unhappy, I will sever this arrangement, and your soul will be mine.”
“Understood,” Monte said.
“Azrael, why would you grant us a long life?” I asked.
“Because I love you enough to let you go.” When I remained speechless, he continued, “I have loved you since the first day of your creation. I knew you were special, and I waited patiently for you to be mine. But forcing you to return to Hell would not make you love me.”
It was the last thing Azrael said before he opened up another portal and disappeared.
Monte leaned down and said into my ear, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Loving me.”
“How could I not?” I intertwined my fingers with his. “I’m kind of stuck with you.”
“But it’s the best kind of stuck there could ever be.”
* * *
We hope you enjoyed this story in the Havenwood Falls world featuring a variety of supernatural creatures. Havenwood Falls is a collaborative effort by multiple authors. If you haven’t already, be sure to read Taming the Beast by Nadirah Foxx (continue on for an excerpt).
Books in the Havenwood Falls Sin & Silk series:
Taming the Beast by Nadirah Foxx
Plans Laid Bare by J.D. Nelson
Shift of Fate by Victoria Escobar
Stolen Wishes by Victoria Flynn
Damned Allure by Justine Winter
Savage Salvation by Kristie Cook
Dark Seduction by Michele G. Miller & R.K. Ryals
Soul Laid Bare by J.D. Nelson
Stray With Me by E.J. Fechenda
Chase the Flames by Desiree Lafawn
Prison of Asria by Randi Cooley Wilson
Flirting With Death by Nadirah Foxx (August 2019)
Also try the signature line, Havenwood Falls, and the historical paranormal line, Legends of Havenwood Falls.
Stay up to date at www.HavenwoodFalls.com
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About the Author
Nadirah Foxx is the alter ego for author SF Benson. This persona is fond of dark, twisted romance featuring suspense and adventure. She also loves a good paranormal tale. Her characters are always flawed, but they always find a way around the obstacles and demons of life.
Connect with Nadirah on:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NadirahFoxx/
Twitter: @nadirahfoxx
Blog: https://nadirahfoxx.wordpress.com/blog
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much for reading Pandora and Monte’s story. I love including mythology in my paranormal tales. For this one, I used Japanese folklore. It was fun adding a new twist to shinigami lore.
A special thank you goes out to all of the Havenwood Falls authors who allowed me to feature their characters. As always, I appreciate the help!
I thank my publisher, Kristie Cook, and editor, Liz Ferry. They continue to impart valuable lessons.
Thanks go to my cover artist, Regina Wamba/Mae I Design. She captured my idea perfectly.
I thank my husband and daughter for putting up with me through the process.
Last but not least, I thank my parents—for without them, none of this is possible.
An Excerpt
Taming the Beast (A Havenwood Falls Sin & Silk Novella) by Nadirah Foxx
Stealing from a mafia boss is the dumbest thing Izzie Itzae has ever done. Getting lost in the mountains is a close second. But both events pale compared to meeting the one male she’s not ready for. As a nagual shifter waiting for her first transformation, Izzie’s anger and frustration grow every day—bonding with her soul mate is the last thing she needs.
Hunter James knows bonding is exactly what Izzie needs, and he’s more than ready for her. He’s dreamed of her often, while his shaman grandfather’s had visions of the female who can break the family curse. Hunter doesn’t care that Izzie’s a late bloomer—in fact, he’s eager for the challenge. As long as Izzie can handle his brand of proclivities, he’s sure he can tame her inner beast.
When they meet, the chemistry is instantaneous, no matter how much Izzie tries to deny it. But obstacles abound, including Hunter’s ex-girlfriend, who will do anything to get Hunter back in
her bed, including stooping to dark magic.
A threat to Izzie’s life is the ultimate test for her. To save herself and Hunter, she must choose—cling to her stubbornness or give in to her heart’s truth. But only one will tame her beast.
Taming the Beast
By Nadirah Foxx
It’s just my luck to end up in the middle of nowhere without a damn cell signal. For the last hour, I’ve been trying to make heads or tails of a map—how primitive. Leaning my palms against the SUV hood, I push my dark hair out of my face and think about how this was supposed to be an uncomplicated trip allowing me to check out the fall colors and escape.
The plan seemed simple enough. Catch a flight out of New York, rent a car (now with an empty gas tank, although it was full an hour ago), and hide away in my best friend Senora’s cabin. In all fairness, she warned me the roads could be tricky, but I didn’t listen. Thought I could rely on my phone’s GPS. Staring down at the device, I realize my stupidity. I forgot mountains and signal strength don’t mix.
I’m ready to pitch the damned thing when a distant rumbling grabs my attention. A huge pickup truck comes into sight. The shiny black vehicle stops inches from me, and a female jumps out of the cab. The tall redhead, dressed in jeans and a tank top, comes around the front of the truck.
“Everything okay?” she asks with a wide smile. Her sparkling gray-blue eyes appear friendly, but my guard, as always, is up.
“I’m good,” I blurt, not wanting her to get too close for both our sakes. “Just need to figure out where I’m going.”
“Really?” The stranger points to the car. “You’re out of gas and lost.”
“How the—” My words freeze when I notice the pendant around her neck—a green jade coyote. The familiar nagual pulse passes through me, and the tension rolls off my shoulders. She’s a kindred spirit. Most likely she took one look at the map and figured out my problem.
“I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but it’ll be dark soon,” she offers. “Nights can be freezing, not to mention the other beasts roaming these parts.”
Confrontations aren’t ideal for me. At least until my transformation happens. Then I’ll be able to go up against other creatures—even other naguals if needed. “I suppose I could use a ride.”
“Where you headed?”
“Grand Junction.”
The female laughs. “Sorry. You are lost. That’s north of here and about two hours away. How about this? I’ll take you to town, where you can stay overnight. In the morning, I’ll point you in the right direction.”
It’s tempting to say no, but fate speeds up time, sending the sun into a quick descent. The choice is made for me. I open the back door, drag out my suitcase, and roll it over to the truck.
The redhead hops in and cranks the ignition. Over the interior noise, she introduces herself. “My name’s Cheresse.”
“Izzie.”
“What brings you to Colorado?”
“Just a getaway.” It’s all I’m offering. Being on the run makes trust precarious.
“I get it.” Cheresse gives me a sideways glance. “We all have secrets, but if you want to share . . . Just saying.” She slips into silence.
After a few miles, Cheresse leaves the state highway and turns onto a two-lane county road lined on both sides by forest. The welcome sign for Havenwood Falls comes into sight. As the truck passes the layered stone and black metal lettering marker, my pendant—a jade quetzal—heats. The sensation startles me. Automatically, I touch my neck. Common sense would have been to tuck the totem beneath my shirt—avoiding the possibility of any knowledgeable nagual discovering I’m powerless—but I don’t always act with sagacity. I’m a would’ve-should’ve-could’ve type of female. Unfortunately, the gesture draws Cheresse’s attention.
“Don’t worry. That’s normal. My totem heats up every time I enter town, too. It’s just the magic here.”
“Magic?” Whoa. A town with magic? So the tales I heard growing up were true. Although I grew up with shapeshifters and shamans, I had no experience with the mystical arts. I thought the stories of a magical town were as wacky as the “tobacco” the elders smoked.
“Havenwood Falls is a safe place for supernaturals. You’ll need a visitor’s tattoo to remain in town.”
“Why? I don’t do ink. Nothing against those who do. It’s just not my thing.”
“Whether it’s your thing or not isn’t the point. The tattoos let the leaders know who’s in town. For some of us, there’s an extra benefit to having one.”
Somehow I seriously doubt if some ink is going to help my situation, but I’ll play along. “Like?”
“Take the vampires, for instance. It allows them to go out in the sun.” Cheresse looks over at me. “Before you ask, it won’t help you.”
My defenses immediately go up. This female nagual can’t possibly know anything about me.
“I can’t read your thoughts, but I sense your immaturity. If you don’t mind my saying, you seem a little old not to have transformed yet. You’re what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?” Cheresse’s tone isn’t condescending, just annoying.
“Almost twenty-five,” I mutter, strumming my fuchsia-colored nails against the door.
Transformation usually happens for nagual females at twenty-one. So, yeah, I’m a little late. Before my grandmother died, she told me it wasn’t unusual to mature later in life. I’m not worried. Just pissed. All the damned time. It’s an unfortunate trait of an immature nagual—intense anger as my beast struggles to emerge. Mine has been trying for three years. Anger doesn’t adequately describe my fury.
Nothing eradicates the intense negative feelings crawling beneath my skin. Mom also warned me, before she died, that there would be days like this. The closer the age of metamorphosis gets—puberty for naguals—the more erratic my emotions. Maybe my birthday, in a week, will end this constant roller coaster of emotions.
I bite my tongue and hang on to the comments I’d like to throw at Cheresse.
Sadly, she doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. “Hey, I’m sorry. Some of us are late bloomers. I had mine three years ago.”
Good for you.
Chatty females like Cheresse is why I’m best friends with an empusa. The creature of the night is more likely to chat up a male victim than spend time conversing with me. Senora and I tolerate each other, giving space when it’s needed. My eyes slide toward the clock on the truck dashboard—nine o’clock. Mental note: call Senora when I get settled.
The darkening landscape changes as we crest the ridge up ahead. Inky black mountains—replacing the riot of oranges, reds, and browns—surround the town like an ominous silhouette. Cheresse drives past a housing development decorated with eerie orange lights and ornaments. Lots of jack-o’-lanterns, cut-out ghosts, spider webs, and even a few animatronic figures adorn the yards. In my haste to leave New York, I nearly forgot about Halloween.
Cheresse takes the right fork in the road, and I get a glimpse of what the small town has to offer—a townhouse-and-villa complex, a three-story high school, a shopping center, and an apartment complex. Every structure, including the closed shops in the town square, is decked out for the holiest of holidays for supes.
The car comes to a stop in front of a large Victorian manor with its own creepy, very realistic looking cemetery in the yard. Cheresse laughs. “It’s just decoration. In Havenwood Falls, we take the holiday seriously.”
Instead of her words imparting comfort, they piss me off further. I don’t appreciate anyone finding humor in my discomfort. My fists clench, and I give a low growl.
Cheresse pays no attention to my anger—supes rarely do. Once another supernatural discovers that I’m an immature nagual, they disregard my fury, treating me like a petulant child.
“This is Whisper Falls Inn,” she points out. “You should be able to get a room for the night. Michaela Petran is the owner. She’s okay, if you don’t mind vamps.”
“I don’t.” Hey, my friend is
a lot worse than a vampire.
Cheresse opens the door and freezes. “Shit.”
“Problem?”
“My ex . . . my boyfriend is here. That’s his bike.”
“Oh,” I say, exiting the cab.
Headed in our direction is a handsome, slightly muscular male with wavy black hair and penetrating turquoise eyes. The sexy scent of sandalwood tickles my nose. Our eyes meet, and his lips curl up. Then he notices Cheresse, and a frown crosses his face.
She plasters on an obviously fake smile and says, “Hi, Hunter.”
He keeps a considerable distance from the ginger-haired female. Odd if they’re supposed to be a couple. In a low voice, he says, “Cheresse.”
The palpable tension between them is thick, but it’s none of my business. Instead, I grab my suitcase and try to ignore the warmth rising out of my totem. As I get closer to him, however, a sudden flash catches my eye. Hunter’s pendant—a jade puma—glows. Cheresse’s totem remains solid while mine scorches my skin.
Not good.
There’s only one reason for totems to react like this.
My gut tells me to run for the hills, but I’m here now, and Hunter’s blocking the path to the inn. Cheresse slips past me and grabs his hand, but he doesn’t try to hold hers. His focus is on me.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” he says to me.
“No. We haven’t.” I leave it at that. The name stitched on his jacket—Trapper—is ironic. Getting tangled up with him would indeed have me trapped.
Might be nice.
“Silly me,” Cheresse chimes in. “Isis, this is my boyfriend Hunter. Hunter, this is my friend Isis.”
If we’re friends, the bimbo would know my name. “Actually, it’s Izzie.”
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