Shifter's Storm Read online

  “You pick the phrase,” said Dauro.

  Sunscar looked away for a moment, then back again with a slight smile. “I finally get to teach you Shakespeare. ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on.’”

  Hands clasped, with the charm in between, they repeated Sunscar’s phrase.

  As she’d hoped, the witch and demesne magic sparked, then settled.

  Sunscar took the charm as something he could put on a necklace. Dauro settled the bracelet on his wrist. Chantal helped it conform to his size with a tiny flare of magic.

  “Go now,” said Sunscar. With a suspicious glance toward Zephyr, he lowered his voice. “Fairies aren’t known for their patience.”

  Zephyr laughed. “True. But we are known for our fantastic hearing.”

  Dauro wrapped Sunscar in a tight hug. “I owe you my life, and I love you. Call me anytime, anywhere.”

  Sunscar nodded. “I will call.” He turned to Chantal. “Congratulations on your mating. You are blessed to have found each other.”

  “Yes, I am. You’re a good friend.” She stifled her impulse to hug him herself to thank him for all he’d done. Physical contact seemed to startle him.

  Zephyr cleared her throat loudly. “Not to be an impatient fairy or anything, but the flamingos are afraid I’ve lost you in another dimension.”

  Chantal held out her hand. “Come, my beloved, sexy mate, let’s go brave the new world.”

  He took her hand with a smile. “Yes.”

  Zephyr waved cheerfully as they stepped through her portal into the chilly, windy night of Vieques. The portal snapped shut.

  Flashlights and lanterns revealed not only a number of flamingo shifters, but all the rest of Dauro’s fellow captives. They swarmed him with hugs, laughter, and questions.

  Chantal stood aside. She couldn’t help but smile like a loon at the happiness radiating from them all and through her mate bond with Dauro.

  Leticia stepped closer. “How are you doing?” She waggled a finger. “And don’t just say ‘okay,’ or I’ll have the whole town of Kotoyeesinay here on the next portal and fast boat.”

  Chantal snorted in amusement. “Hungry. Exhausted. Filthy. Floating on air. People were rescued.” Real-world smells reminded her of real-world problems. “Did you find the fairies and the hunters?”

  “Yes, their escape hatch dumped them in the ocean about twenty kilometers offshore.” Leticia pointed toward the chattering former captives. “The capricorns told us where to look. We got help from the Shifter Tribunal office in Florida to pull los idiotas out of the water. Rock fairies don’t float.”

  “Did the wild magic storm cause any more damage?”

  “No, we lucked out there. It looked like a killer, but it wasn’t quite in the real world yet. It faded fast, right about the time you and Dauro went back into the demesne.” Leticia chuckled. “The few humans who noticed it were drunk on Puerto Rican rum. That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it.”

  Chantal’s inner leopard reminded her of unfinished business with her mate. Hell, not-even-started business. “Could I ask a huge favor and not answer any questions about it?”

  Leticia’s expression turned serious. “It depends. Ask me.”

  Chantal stuck her hands in her pockets. “A quiet place for me and Dauro with lots of food, a shower, a bed, and privacy for a couple of days?”

  The older woman didn’t even hesitate. “Give me an hour, and I’ll drive you there myself.” She pulled out her satellite radio and stepped away.

  All the shifters had already seen the mate bond, so Chantal wasn’t giving away anything by saying Dauro’s name. But she and Dauro desperately needed to work things out between them before they faced the rest of the world.

  13

  The Jeep slowed to a stop. “This is it.”

  Dauro felt like he was dream-flying. Exhilaration mixed with wonder and the deep-seated fear that he’d wake up any moment and find himself back in Nessireth’s demesne, drifting in the impossible river.

  Chantal ignored the passenger door and swung up and over the side to land on the dirt driveway.

  He mimicked her rather than figure out how the door handle worked.

  “Amazing.” Chantal turned to Leticia, who was still behind the wheel of the noisy vehicle. “I’m afraid to ask how many favors you had to call in for this.”

  Beyond the Jeep’s headlights, a series of low lights led to a two-story wood and glass cabin nestled in the jungle. Strings of tiny lights outlined nearly ever post and beam, inside and out. No fairy magic anywhere, so the lights had to be technology.

  “Not too many.” Leticia pulled a backpack from the footwell and handed it to Chantal. “Supplies. Someone will come get you Thursday morning. Radio if you need anything.”

  With that, she backed out of the short driveway and drove off.

  Chantal shouldered the backpack’s strap and held out her other hand to him. “Let’s go in. I smell food.”

  He gladly wrapped his hand around hers and walked the path with her.

  The cozy cabin had clear glass walls everywhere except for the smoke-colored walls of the bathroom. The small, open kitchen’s counters were nearly invisible under the many trays covered in thin, clear film… plastic wrap.

  Chantal dropped the backpack on the floor, then closed the cabin’s door. “I want to set some magic wards. Then we need to talk, and we need to eat. And I need a shower because I stink like salt-cured roadkill. Which do you want to do first?”

  “Let’s eat and talk at the same time.” The nervousness she’d been trying to hide made him uneasy.

  Breathing deeply and slowly, her eyes closed. Her lips moved in soundless words. Magic flared and settled in the windows and door like a glaze of frost.

  “Okay.” Her eyes opened. “We’ll hear warning tones if anything bigger than a lizard tries to get in.”

  “Good.” He kicked himself. He should have been thinking of security, not his worries.

  Delectable smells filled the room as she uncovered the trays. “What do you like?”

  “I don’t know.” The variety on the trays seemed endless, and none of it familiar. “Anything that isn’t nutrient-enhanced sea grass.”

  Laughing, she handed him a plate with a knife and a tiny metal trident. “You go first.”

  After crowding his plate with as many samples as he could, they sat in ornate metal chairs at the small round metal table. The first few bites nearly overwhelmed him with flavor, but his human senses soon settled down and let him savor the new tastes. Maybe he’d have favorites someday, but for now, they all tasted intriguingly different.

  Chantal’s choices leaned toward meat, eggs, and fruit. After bolting down a small steak in record time, she opened cabinets in the kitchen until she found two glasses, then brought them each water.

  “So, talking.” She used her trident… fork to hold a piece of chicken while she cut pieces with her knife. “I don’t know where to start, so I’m just going to muddle through. First, I am your mate, and you are mine, and I love you. I want you so much I’m shaking. I want to make love with you so you smell like me and I smell like you.” She sighed. “But you’ve just spent centuries as a captive, and I’m afraid our bond will be trading one prison for another. Because we were blessed with telepathy first, I know intellectually it was our choice together, but my heart says I took advantage of you.”

  Relief that she wasn’t pushing him away flooded him. Rolling his shoulders back slowly helped ease his tension and let air into his lungs. “I want to help my friends find their families, and see the new world. There’s so much to learn.” He paused, waiting for her to look at him again. “I don’t want to be your cage, either. I love you too much for that.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it. Finally, she shook her head. “Our relationship is unbalanced right now. Only time can change that.”

  The gods had blessed him with a mate with wisdom beyond her tender years. And for all hi
s ancient years, he only had the wisdom of civilization long gone and the instincts of his somnolent sloth.

  Quiet settled as he finished his samples. Chantal ate like she thought the food would get away. He appreciated the time to think about their problem.

  He aligned his fork next to the square edge of his empty plate. “I liked what you said about shifter-mate magic being potential, not destiny. In my time, true-mate pairings were considered divine gifts from the gods. If a union failed, it was because the gods withdrew their favor.” He reached across the table to cover her hand with his own. “But if it’s both blessing and biology, then it’s up to us to make our bond work. To listen instead of relying on instinct. To ask with words instead of silence.”

  In answer, she leaned forward to lift and brush his knuckles with a quick kiss. “Sounds good to me. My dad’s trucking business takes him away a lot, so he and my mom make a point of talking about things together instead of bottling up the grievances until they explode.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “I’d like to meet them, when you’re ready.”

  She grinned, acknowledging his teasing repetition of her earlier words. “Any time.”

  He stood and picked up his empty plate. “I take it our union won’t start a clan war, then?”

  “Nope. Everyone will be delighted. They think I’m too solitary.” After a last swallow of water, she collected everything else on the table and led him to the kitchen.

  “Let’s put the dishes in the sink for now.” She pointed her knee toward a rectangular metal door under the counter. “I’ll show you the wonderful invention called a dishwasher later.” Her nose wrinkled. “Right now, I want out of these stinky clothes.” Her lips curved into an overly innocent smile. “Would you like to help me with that?”

  Simmering desire rose. “It would be my pleasure.” He caressed her shoulder, sliding his hand to her neck. She leaned in and up for a long, sensuous kiss. As much as he’d enjoyed the flavors of the new world, he would never get enough of the taste of her.

  Under his lips, she laughed. “You think the nicest things.” Her hand slid into his as she stepped back. “Let’s take the backpack upstairs and see what the flamingos gave us.”

  A bedroom took up the entire second floor, which Chantal called a loft. The largest bed he’d ever seen butted up against a frosted-glass wall. The other walls had regular windows.

  She unhooked the radio holster and three other pouches from her belt with sure movements and put them on a decorative table. With less ceremony, she dumped the backpack’s contents onto the bed, then sat next to the pile and sorted through it deftly. She held up one of several shiny square packets. “Bless them for their thoughtfulness.”

  No stray memories appeared. “What are they?”

  “Condoms. Birth control. Very thin sheath for a man’s penis.” Her shoulder lifted. “We don’t need them, though. I have a charm that prevents pregnancy. More reliable than human methods for two shifters.”

  He couldn’t imagine how they worked. “How do they stay on?”

  She tossed the packet on the bed. “They stretch.” She raised a foot and untied the bow of her boot lace and grinned up at him. “Wanna get hot and wet with me in the shower?”

  In answer, he stripped his tunic, pants, and shoes off in seconds. “I could help you get out of all those clothes.”

  Laughing as she kicked off her boot, she shook her head. “I’d never finish. You’re too tempting. Were you always built like a sexy god who owns his own fitness center?”

  He raised an arm and glanced at the muscle. “Not this much, that I remember. Maybe it came from my sloth. I cajoled him into swimming the entire river each day instead of just grazing the sea grass and sleeping in my nest. Nessireth thought I was patrolling.”

  Chantal made a rude sound. “She was an idiot. You were making friends. Finding people to love.” Her other boot joined the first, followed by her socks. She wriggled her toes as she speedily unbuttoned her long-sleeved shirt.

  “Are you jealous?” Even as he spoke his concern, he watched hungrily as she shed her shirt. The light tan of her undertunic… camisole set off the beauty of her rich brown skin.

  Her movements slowed. “I’d say I’m possessive about what’s mine, but not of people. Your open heart is the heart of you.” She dropped the filthy shirt on top of her boots and quickly unzipped and stepped out of her even filthier pants. “How could I not love you?” The sincerity shining in her bright eyes and soft smile allayed his worry.

  A moment later, her nude form bared, all he could do was bask in her beauty. Graceful shoulders and well-defined arm muscles. Pillowy breasts with dark, jutting nipples. Narrow waist, wide and perfectly rounded stomach and hips, muscular thighs, and a thick thatch of dark pubic hair that made his mouth water.

  A smile stole across her face as she picked up a bar of soap and a small bottle. “Let’s see if the shower is big enough for two.”

  He followed her like a fish in school into the shiny room with frosted-glass walls. Tiny mirrors everywhere reflected their passage in fragments. Memories tumbled in his head, trying to tell him about tile and modern plumbing, but all his attention centered on Chantal.

  She set the bottle on a small shelf, then turned knobs. Suddenly water rained down on her from a spout. Turning to face it, she slid her cupped hands up to push water under her breasts. He’d never seen a more erotic sight.

  At her beckoning gesture, he stepped over the curb and into the spray with her. She turned and wrapped herself around him.

  Skin to skin with his mate, his telepathic barriers melted away like sand.

  Now, he could feel that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Muscles in her belly rippled, stroking his erection captured between them. Her soft lips and gentle teeth nibbled their way toward his nipple.

  Oceans roared in his ears. Shifter mate magic threads overwhelmed his vision. Tingling began at the base of his spine. “Too fast,” he gasped.

  She stilled in his arms. “What do you need, my mate?”

  “I don’t know.” Hissing out a ragged breath, he clutched her tight and stepped back with her, out of the spray. “I haven’t been human for four hundred years. It’s too much. Two thrusts and I’ll erupt. And no thrusts at all if you use any of your magic. It fires my blood.”

  One of her hands inched higher. “We could try sloth slow, one touch at a time.” Her breath tickled his shoulder. “Or we can blow your volcano right now. I’m sure we could find something to keep us occupied while you to replenish your lava.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “My lava?”

  She looked up at him with a sly smile. “Seemed fitting.”

  He lowered his head to barely brush her lips with his. “What if I make you erupt first?” He sent her an image of what he had in mind.

  Her small gasp told him the idea pleased her. “I’d love your tongue anywhere I can get it, but I’m filthy.”

  “Let me take care of that.” He gently turned her around in his arms so she faced the warm water.

  Using his chin, he pushed her damp hair aside and nuzzled her neck. She didn’t need magic. Her scent alone was enough to make his groin twitch.

  He took the soap from her hand and rubbed it in small circles over her back. She smelled like mint and midnight frost. The soap smelled like oil and fruit. The tension in her shoulders relaxed.

  Gliding his hand around to the side, he slid the soap up under her arm, then circled her breast. He grazed her nipple several times before reaching across to give her other nipple the same treatment.

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed. Her delight became his through their telepathic link.

  Concentrating on pleasing her kept his own body under control. He let his hand drift into the water, then down to the thatch over her mound and lower still into the secrets hidden there. She shuddered with pleasure.

  He stepped them both around under the shower head to rinse the soap from her skin, then turned her to face him. “
You are a goddess.”

  The corners of her lips lifted in a languid smile. “You bet your ass.”

  He gently leaned her back against the glass wall, then sank to crouch in front of her, licking at her wet nipple on his way down. The scent of her arousal led him to nose through her damp curls and inhale.

  She moaned and widened her stance when his fingers brushed her soft gate and his tongue found her pearl. He ignored the memories that tried to tell him the anatomical names. This was the poetry of his mate’s pleasure, not modern science.

  The taste of her, the clutch of her fingers on his shoulders, the connection between them made him fight for control.

  Pointing his tongue, he flicked it around and across the enlarged pearl. He slid one finger inside her channel, then two, gently stretching the tight passage.

  She moaned again. Her hips twitched toward his face in rhythm with his tongue and fingers. His aching staff twitched right along with her.

  Shifter-mate magic threads beckoned seductively, but he closed his senses to them. He wasn’t going there without his mate.

  Chantal’s world had shrunk to Dauro’s scent, Dauro’s mouth, and the exquisite tension between her legs. Her nipples ached. Her stomach quivered. A storm of visible shifter magic swirled around them and danced on Dauro’s skin and hers. But it didn’t feel right.

  She slid her palm to his face. “Join with me, Dauro. Come inside me.”

  His serious brown eyes met hers. “I won’t last.”

  “Neither will I. But this first time, I can’t take my pleasure before my mate’s.” She tilted her head back. “Here against the wall, middle of the bed, hanging from the ceiling, wherever, but we should be one.”

  He got to one knee, then rose slowly, keeping sensuous skin-to-skin contact with her until he stood. His erection pulsed against her belly.

  In one swift movement, he lifted her like she weighed nothing and positioned himself at her entrance. She leaned back against the glass and tilted her hips.