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Authors: Keri Arthur

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BOOK: Circle of Desire
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“She was three years older than me and had come to my hometown for a skiing vacation with several of her friends. She ended up staying long after they’d left.”

She briefly closed her eyes. “You don’t have to continue.”

“I asked her to marry me,” he said softly. “She accepted.”

It hurt, though God knew it shouldn’t have. Especially since he’d warned her going in—not that she’d ever been one to listen to warnings unless they truly suited her.

Her gaze slid to his hands, and she frowned. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and she had a suspicion he still would be if they’d actually married. Especially seeing as a werewolf gave his heart for life. “So what happened?”

His hurt swam around her, deep enough to drown in.

“She didn’t know I was a werewolf. I showed her that night.”

“Oh.”

“I wish that was all
she’d
said.” Bitterness edged the anguish in his voice.

One piece of the puzzle fell into place. “So that’s why you loathe your werewolf half?”

“It lost me the woman I loved. It lost me—” He stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath.

And she knew then that there was far more to this
story than what he was admitting now. “So she wasn’t a werewolf herself?”

“No.”

“She never got over the shock of it?”

“No.”

And neither, obviously, had he. She rose from the bed and walked up behind him. He didn’t move, didn’t react, so she simply put her hands around him and pressed her cheek against his back. He was so tense, his muscles quivered.

“If she loved you, surely she would have eventually seen past that.”

“She got a court order to prevent me going near her.”

The woman was obviously a fool. A fool who didn’t know what she had. “I’m sorry, Ethan.” Sorry for him. Sorry for them.

He took another shuddering breath, then turned and wrapped his arms around her. “So am I.”

His breath stirred her hair, brushed warmth past her ear. His body pressed against hers, filling her with radiant longing. It felt so good. So right.

So how come it could be so wrong?

She lifted her face and met his gaze. The sorrow evident in the brown depths tore at something deep inside her. There wasn’t much she could do about it, except love him in the only way he was willing to accept.

She kissed him. It was a slow and sensual exploration that left them both breathless. He brushed a thumb down her cheek and smiled his sexy smile.

“Shall we retire someplace more comfortable?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t comfortable here last night?”

His smile went up another notch and damn near smoked her insides. “I’m planning something a little slower than last night, and the bed is definitely more pleasant than a rug on the floor.”

“I suppose if you insist—”

“I do.”

He swept her off her feet and carried her over to the bed. He placed her on it gently, then stepped back, his gaze rolling languidly down the length of her body. It was a heated caress that sent a shiver of expectation through every part of her. Her nipples hardened, and the pooling heat between her legs became an ache that was almost unbearable. His gaze completed its erotic journey, then met hers again, almost drowning her in longing.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, lying down beside her.

From that moment on there was little room for talking. As he’d promised, their lovemaking this time was a luscious and thorough exploration. Thought became desire, desire became need, and her whole world became this man who swore he couldn’t love her.

His touch pushed her into a place where only sensation existed. The air was hot and thick and almost impossible to breathe. Every inch of her quivered beneath the relentless assault of his fingers and tongue. When he finally raised himself above her, she was slick with sweat and burning with pleasure, unable to think, unable to do anything more than feel.

For several seconds he held still, his arms trembling with the effort as their gazes met. Something twisted deep inside her. Ethan might not be able to love her, but he wasn’t exactly immune to her, either. There was caring in his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he entered her, sliding so very deep, filling her with his rigid heat. The sheer bliss of it had her moaning. He held still again, his lips claiming hers, his kiss passionate and tender.

She wrapped her legs around him and pushed him deeper still. He began to rock, gently at first, touching places that had never been touched before. She could only groan in pleasure as his body drove into hers and the sweet pressure began to build.

He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, his movements becoming more urgent. The pressure built, curling through her body, until it became a tidal wave that would not be denied. She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers trembling, her nails digging into his flesh.

“Oh … God.” Her voice was little more than a fractured whisper. “Please …”

He answered her plea, his thrusts powerful and demanding. Her climax came in a rush that stole her breath, stole all thought, and swept her into a world of sheer, unadulterated bliss. A heartbeat later he went rigid against her, the power of his release tearing her name from his throat. He held her for one last thrust, then his lips sought hers, his kiss a lingering taste of heat.

Then he rolled to one side and gathered her into his arms, holding her close as they drifted off to sleep.

It was only later that she realized they hadn’t used a condom.

K
AT WANDERED INTO THE NEXT CABIN AS
E
THAN TOOK A
shower. The front door was open, and the smell of rain and pine hung heavily in the air. Gwen was visible through the doorway, a steaming mug of coffee held between her knotted hands. She made herself a cup, then joined her grandmother on the porch.

The sky was still heavy with the remnants of the night’s storm, and the chill of winter was in the air. Days like today were best spent huddled in front of a warm fire, chocolate and a good book in hand, not out hunting the dead. Not that they had any choice—not when time was running out for those kids and maybe even themselves.

She ignored the premonition of rising danger and raised her cup to the sky. “If the color of those clouds is anything to go by, it’s going to be a bitch of a day.”

“At least zombies don’t like the cold any more than we do. It slows them down.”

Which could be a good thing if there was a houseful of them to contend with. “You think that’s where Janie and Karen are?”

“Too easy. But the zombies have to be guarding something, so it’s definitely worth a look.”

She sipped her coffee for a moment, watching a small brown bird flit from tree to tree. “Has Seline come through with anything?”

Gwen nodded. “She’s been able to confirm a lot of what we already know, and has found some additional information. This thing is an extremely ancient spirit and apparently very hard to kill.”

“Great,” Kat said sourly.

Gwen’s gaze became speculative as she continued, “As I suspected, it is similar to a vampire, only it feeds on souls rather than blood. It does have one interesting restriction—it can only feed while at the height of passion. But the same sort of weapons that kill a vampire can kill the mara.”

“I attacked it with a stake last night, and it didn’t seem to do much.”

“Was it in human or spirit form?”

“Spirit.”

Gwen nodded. “Apparently it can only be killed in human form. Attacking it at any other time will do little more than wound it.”

No wonder it was so hard to kill. “So why is it taking these kids?”

“That’s the frightening bit. Apparently, when the mara is coming near the end of its life cycle—”

“I’d be resting a whole lot easier if this thing was actually
at
its end, rather than just near it,” Kat cut in, voice grim. “And just how long do these things actually loll about having fun at humanity’s expense?”

“Eons. And life never-ending is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Kat raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

“Says Michael, who’s the oldest vampire in the
Circle. According to Seline, he was pretty close to either ending it all or stepping across the line when he met Nikki.”

Kat nodded. She’d met Michael only once, but she had been more than a little overwhelmed by not only his good looks and charm, but the dark aura of destruction that had seemed to shadow him.

“Anyway,” Gwen continued, “when a mara is near the end of its cycle, it breeds. To do this, it needs to find a supernatural to procreate with. Apparently it’s incapable of reproducing with those who are its food source.”

“The werewolf said he had sex with her.” Her partner could hardly be vampire—vampires weren’t fertile.

Gwen nodded. “From here on, it’s purely guesswork, but we think it’s the children’s terror that actually induces fertilization.”

“How many kids is this thing capable of having?”


That
I don’t know, but I suspect it’s more than we might wish.”

A chill raced across Kat’s skin and she shivered. Facing one mara was bad enough. Facing a host of them, whether youngsters or not, was
not
something she wanted to contemplate.

“So it’s dark emotions she needs to breed,” she said. “Like horror. Terror. Maybe that’s why she’s keeping them alive for six days. Plenty of time for fear to build.”

“Or plenty of time for the current crop of youngsters to siphon off those emotions before the mara uses the kid to create another lot of horrors.”

“Possibly.” Gwen half shrugged. “Seline hasn’t discovered what form the mara’s youngsters take.”

“My guess is we’ll discover that soon enough ourselves.”

“You’re probably right.” Gwen drank her coffee for a few minutes, then said, “So, what’s troubling you, Kitty-cat?”

She smiled. She never could keep anything from her grandmother for very long—not even the faintest of worries. “You remember me saying that both of us were more than able to contain our hormones long enough to take care of protection? Well, last night we forgot.”

Gwen sighed. “That’s always the worry with werewolves. That aura of theirs can be overwhelming sometimes.” She paused, then added with a fond smile, “That’s how your uncle came into being, you know.”

Kat’s smile widened. She hadn’t known that, though it certainly explained why he was the only wolf shifter in a family of ravens.

“Does Ethan know?” Gwen asked.

She shook her head. “We used one this morning, and I cleaned up afterward. I doubt he even thought about it.”

“Are you going to mention it?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. He was so damn vehement about never having kids.”

“Yet he’s obviously very close to this niece of his.” Gwen regarded her thoughtfully. “There’s a story in all that, I’d wager.”

“If there is, it’s not one he’s telling me.” Not yet, anyway. “Besides, I won’t know for a couple of weeks for sure.”

“I can tell you tonight. A day passed is all the stones need to see such things.”

“I know.” But did she want to know? Knowing meant she had to decide whether to tell Ethan or not. He had the right to know, and yet he’d already told her he didn’t want a relationship, let alone kids, and she had no right to trap him that way. Especially when she was more than capable of raising a child by herself.

Gwen sighed. “A kiddy will put a serious dent in our Circle activities. At least for a couple of years.”

The anticipation evident in her voice suggested it was a dent she’d more than welcome. “Don’t start counting your ravens before they hatch.”

“Might be a pup,” Gwen mused. “Mine certainly was.”

“I really don’t care what it is.”

Gwen grinned at her. “Sounds as if you’re certain it happened.”

Deep down she was. Gwen might have scrying and visions, but her own second sight was just as strong, if somewhat more erratic. But she wasn’t about to admit her certainty. Not yet. So she shrugged. “You’re the one who told me they were lethally fertile around moon fever time. With the way my luck has been running of late, it’s bound to be a certainty.”

Gwen touched her arm, squeezing gently. “You should talk to him. Try to find out why he is so against children of his own.”

She sighed. “I’ll try. But digging information out of that man is hard.”

Footsteps echoed across the wooden floors behind them. Ethan appeared two seconds later, a cup of coffee
in hand as he stopped beside her. He was close enough that she could smell the fresh soapiness of his skin, yet not close enough for his arm to brush hers. And she sensed this slight distancing was deliberate. That after last night, he needed to put some space between himself and the emotions they’d raised.

And that annoyed the hell out of her.

“Benton just called,” Ethan announced. “The missing kid turned out to be a custody case—just as you’d predicted.”

Gwen nodded. “I’m not usually wrong, you know. I gather he’s on the way back?”

“Yeah. He’s told me to tell you to stay put. He wants to talk to you both about last night.”

“We can’t stay put.” Kat’s voice was sharper than she’d intended and earned an amused look from her grandmother. “We have a house to investigate.”

BOOK: Circle of Desire
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