Magical Menages 1: Shifters' Captive (18 page)

John swallowed and groaned softly. Sherrie continued sliding her hand up and down his shaft, and the tension built in his groin. He watched her face, loving her sweetness and her strength. She’d been through a rollercoaster of events and emotions over the past few days and had taken them all in stride when many people would’ve broken down. He admired her practicality and her composure. And right now, he simply loved what she was doing with her hands which glided slickly over his shaft.

Her stroking brought him abruptly to the edge. His climax surged through him. He thrust and released, spilling over her closed fist, and the water washed the evidence of his orgasm away.

“Thank you,” he groaned, pulling her close to him again. He turned them so the water pummeled her back. Sherrie turned her face into his chest and his chin rested on top of her head as he rocked her slightly from side to side.

Suddenly, a quiver went through her. She was trembling in his embrace, wrapping her arms tight around him and squeezing. He realized she was crying.

“Sh,” he soothed, kissing the top of her head and stroking her back.

Sobs wracked her body as she clung to him, and she forced out a few jerky words. “I-I’m sorry.

It’s…just…”

“I know. I know. It’s all too much, and you’re overwhelmed.”

“Yeah,” she whimpered. “And at the same time I’m so damn happy to be here with you. It’s horrible that all this happened, but if it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.” She lifted her face and gazed up at him, her eyelashes spiked in damp clusters. “Also, I feel bad about Evan. I want to know if he really is my brother, if what he said about my father is true. If it is, even my mom didn’t know. Or maybe she did, but she never told me. There’s just so much to think about, and I’ll never have the chance to find out because I won’t see Evan again. Even if I did, he’d probably try to kill me. I wish I could’ve had a DNA test done or something. I wish there was some way I could know the truth, even though it doesn’t really matter. I mean, I’ve been without a dad all my life, so why is it suddenly important to me now?”

She drew a rough, hiccupping breath, and her mouth trembled before she buried her face against his chest again and another bout of sobs shook her.

“I’m so sorry.” John felt helpless spouting useless platitudes and rubbing her back. He couldn’t do anything to fix things or help her be any less upset. “I wish I could find out for you.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Maybe there is a way. Our psychic, Anna. Sometimes she only catches glimpses of things, but other times—like with pointing you out as our savior—her visions are very specific. Perhaps she can see something about you, an aura that will tell whether your father was George Blake or not.”

“Is that his name?” She looked up at him again. “Is he even still alive, does anyone know? According to Evan, the grandparents who raised him are dead now, so I can’t ask them any questions.”

“I don’t think anyone knows, but we’ll try to find out. I’ll do anything I can to help you learn what you want to know.” He turned off the water, opened the door and got a towel which he wrapped around Sherrie’s shoulders. Then he grabbed one for himself, briskly drying his hair and body.

When they were both dry and snug in bed again, John resumed his train of thought. “We’ll figure out your family history together and try to learn what powers you possess. If your dad really is a shifter, you could have more latent abilities.”

“Thank you,” Sherrie said. “I’m sorry for being such a Weepy Wilma. It’s not like me.”

“You have every right to be upset. Hell, most people would be curled up in a fetal position whimpering by now. I think you’re amazingly strong.”

“Really?” Her smile was almost shy…and delightful. John looked forward to learning all her smiles.

Grant paused to lick his torn shoulder before loping the last hundred yards to Marina’s cabin in the clearing. His body ached from whiskers to tail, but he had to see her in the flesh before he rested. On the front porch of the house, he shifted to human form. Giving only a quick rap on the door, he entered.

The place was dark, the windows letting in little of the late afternoon sunlight. He strode through the room to Marina’s bedroom, again giving only a perfunctory tap before opening the door.

She lay in bed, face pale and eyes closed just the way he’d last seen her. Sonia Taylor, Marina’s nearest neighbor who lived about ten miles away, sat beside the bed reading a mystery novel. She glanced up at Grant and took off her reading glasses.

“She’s better,” the woman announced without waiting for his question. “She’s been awake. This is a normal sleep now. Reports have been coming in from around the area. All the coma victims are waking up except Greg Vincent and Audrey Goins. Both of them died suddenly late yesterday afternoon.” Her mouth was a grim line. “What happened, Grant?”

He gazed at Marina’s strong-boned face. The shadows beneath her eyes made her look at least a dozen years older than she was. “I found the girl I dreamed about. A human. A waitress named Sherrie Stoltz.” The words said so little about who Sherrie actually was. They didn’t convey her bright spirit or her powerful inner strength. “Along with a member of the wolf clan, we were able to…create a psychic power strong enough to defeat the man controlling the coma victims,” he succinctly explained about Evan Blake.

“You let the wolves have him?” Sonia rose and glared at him, eyes narrowed. “You should’ve killed him.”

“I know,” Grant agreed. “But it’s not too late. For the sake of peace, let the wolves have their trial and mete out their brand of justice. When they’re finished, we’ll deliver ours.” Sonia growled and nodded then turned to look at Marina. “She’s slept enough over the past weeks.

Why don’t you wake her up and say hello?”

She put her glasses and book in her huge handbag then approached Grant and touched the gashes on his bare arm. “Looks like the wolf took a chunk out of you.” He didn’t bother to explain about the mountain lion. It was too embarrassing to admit he’d nearly been bested by a common animal.

Sonia patted him on the ass before walking from the room. After she was gone, Grant went to Marina’s bedside and sat on the mattress. He leaned over her and breathed in her familiar scent—spicy and potent.

“Wake up, Mar,” he ordered, lifting her hand and rubbing his cheek against it. “Come on now. Don’t be lazy.”

Ever submissive, except when she wasn’t in the mood, Marina obeyed his command and opened her striking iris-blue eyes. “You are here.” Her thick Russian accent made the rolling R’s as rich and heavy as beef stroganov.

“Yeah. How are you feeling?”

“Verrry bad. Weak. But you are here now. I feel betterrr,” she purred.

“He’s gone. He can’t hurt you again,” Grant promised and made a silent vow to himself to make certain that was true.

She reached out and stroked his damaged shoulder as Sonia had done. “You are hurt.”

“A little, but mostly I’m damn tired. Too tired to go all the way home. Mind if I sleep here for awhile?”

“You are always welcome in my bed. You know that. Come. Rest.” He sighed as he crawled beneath the covers and snuggled against her warm body. Marina licked his shoulder then breathed deeply of his skin. “You smell like wolf and human…and sex. What you been up to, Grrrant?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” His voice was muffled against her warm skin, and already his consciousness was slipping away.

“I will be verry interested to hear such a strange tale.” She stroked him with her soft, wet tongue once more, and that was the last thing Grant remembered.

Lydia Cox held out her hand to Sherrie. “Welcome. I’m so glad you could come. Liberty’s been looking forward to meeting you. We should’ve had you sooner, but we wanted to make sure she was fully recovered.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting her too. Although I feel a little like I already know her. The night I held her hand, I didn’t tell you the truth,” Sherrie admitted. “I met her…inside her mind. Saw what she’d seen and got an impression of the man who was holding her hostage. I didn’t want to scare you, so I only told John later, after we left.”

Mrs. Cox nodded and gripped her hand tighter. “All that matters is that you saved our little girl.” She nodded toward her husband standing behind her in the entryway of their house. “Brian and I… Our entire family is in your debt. Anything you want or need…”

Sherrie smiled. “To tell the truth, all I really want is a friend or two in this town. People are polite to me. They’re all so grateful. But I’ve been here over a week now and, other than John, I don’t really know anyone yet.”

Lydia returned her smile, teeth flashing against her brown skin. “You have friends in this house, and I’ll introduce you around. Our people can be slow to accept strangers, but once they do, you’ll become one of their own.”

The Coxes ushered Sherrie and John into the house to the living room where Liberty sat on the couch with her brother R.J. playing a video game. When she glanced up and saw Sherrie, she dropped the controller and jumped off the couch. Her dark eyes shone as she walked quickly across the room. Then she appeared to grow suddenly shy and stopped a few feet in front of Sherrie.

“Hi.” She dipped her chin, not quite meeting her eyes.

Sherrie gave a reassuring smile. “Hi. How’re you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Good. That was some pretty scary stuff, huh? Freaked me out.” The little girl risked a glance at her. “I know you?” It was half statement, half question.

“Yeah, I think maybe you do. I was poking around inside your head a little, but I didn’t look at any secrets, I swear.”

Liberty flashed a grin.

“What you playing?” Sherrie asked. “I love Xbox.”

The girl shrugged. “One of my brother’s dumb sports games. But if you want, we could play DDR.

My parents won’t buy a Wii. DDR is a really old game, but I still like to play, sometimes, only no one ever wants to do it with me.”

“Sure. That’s the one where you dance, right? Show me what to do and I’ll dance you into the ground, sister.”

Liberty giggled. “I don’t think so.”

As the girl scampered away to pull the plug on her brother’s game and set up her own, Sherrie winked at John. It was easy to make friends with a kid. And now that she had the Cox family on her side, maybe she could make some inroads into the community.

In the week she’d lived here, she found the people polite but distant, perhaps concerned about her connection with Evan Blake. She’d seen the house he’d grown up in and had visited the graves of her possible grandparents, Steve and Amanda Blake, but she didn’t feel any connection or sudden recognition.

Maybe her father being their son was just Evan’s fantasy.

John had taken her to see Anna. The wisewoman was a surprise. She didn’t give off a New Age mystical vibe or have penetrating, far-seeing eyes. In fact, she reminded Sherrie very much of her eighth-grade gym teacher, a middle-aged woman with a butch haircut and thick calves. Her manner was abrupt and to the point.

“You want to know about your father? I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can help you with that. My visions are erratic, to say the least,” Anna said. “If I had any control over what I perceive, I’d have been able to identify Evan Blake as the attacker. But I only see what the Spirit chooses to reveal to me, sometimes seemingly random, useless flashes—although they usually make sense later.” She’d held Sherrie’s hands across the tabletop in her kitchen, such a mundane room for a psychic revelation, what with the lingering smell of coffee and burnt toast in the air. Anna closed her eyes and Sherrie did too. Then she waited. Minutes ticked past. She tried to relax and open her mind so Anna could see whatever she was looking for.

Sherrie started when Anna finally spoke. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just not getting anything.” Sherrie had opened her eyes, blinking and focusing on the other woman. “That’s all right. I’ve gotten by this long without knowing who my father is. It’s not that big of a deal. Thanks for trying.” Although she’d been disappointed, Sherrie had meant what she said. It really didn’t matter. She knew who she was, with or without a father. Mostly it was her unsatisfied curiosity about whether or not she had shifter blood that bothered her. Only time would tell about genetics. If she bore a child who howled at the moon, that might be a clue. On the other hand, considering the way her relationship with John was escalating, she might very well have a half-breed child anyway. That opened another whole avenue of things to consider.

Sherrie glanced at John, standing beside her in the Coxes’ living room, and a warm glow spread through her. Just the sight of him could do that. She poked him in the arm. “You going to play DDR? With your reflexes, I bet you’ll be a great dancer.”

“You don’t have to play with Liberty,” Brian said. “Perhaps you’d rather sit and have a drink on the front porch, before dinner.”

“No. It’s cool. I want to play,” Sherrie said. “So does John.” Soon they were all taking turns at dancing, even stuffy Brian. After John’s turn, he collapsed onto the sofa beside Sherrie and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Why, because I dance so good?” she teased.

“Because you instinctively know what people need and how to bring the best out in them.” He nodded at Cox clumsily trying to match the computerized dance moves on the color-coded mat while his daughter danced as light as a pixie on her own mat.

“I know what
you
need, and I’ll show you later,” she murmured.

Dinner at the Coxes’ table was much more pleasant than last time. Everyone talked and laughed and shared memories. Sherrie learned more about the people of Browning in one hour than she’d learned all week from John.

“What about your family?” Lydia asked. “Were they worried about you when you disappeared?”

“I have a sad answer to that question.” She smiled. “No. My mom didn’t happen to call those days, so she never knew I was missing. My friends wondered why I wasn’t answering my cell, but figured I’d turned it off for some reason. My manager at work was mad when I didn’t show up for my next shift, but he wasn’t worried. So, no one realized I’d been taken.” By her side, John moved restlessly. She knew he hated the fact he’d kidnapped her.