Shifter's Dance (8 page)

“Rekkus and Cyrus are going to want to talk to you.
Why don’t you wait in your room, Stephen?”

“For fuck’s sake, Myron.” He turned on the little
woman whose cards slapped down on the table. He wanted to rip them
out of her hands and throw them across the room. “I suppose it was
‘in my cards’ for me to be attacked out there tonight? What the
hell?”

“Your choices impact everything. I can tell you what
the cards say you’re supposed to do, but you have free will and the
suck of that is you have to live with the end result and have no
one to blame but yourself. You can’t protect the people you love by
keeping things a secret from them.”

Love.

Oh, that word was a punch in the gut. He stumbled
away from Myron, fumbling for the button that would summon the
elevator. Love. He was in love with Romy and he’d failed to keep
her safe. If he’d just been man enough to tell her from the
beginning, before they were intimate, they never would have been on
that path, she’d have been safe. Maybe not in his arms or his bed,
but she’d have been safe.

What had he done?

When she heard the knock on the door, Romy didn’t
know if she was ready to speak to Stephen or not, but she opened it
anyway. She knew immediately that the man on the other side of the
door wasn’t her Stephen.

“Hello, Romy. We haven’t met. My name is Cyrus
Rowan. I’m one of the owners of the Wiccan Haus. May I come
in?”

“Of course.” She gestured him into the room, heard
him settle into a chair. She counted the fourteen shuffling steps
to the bed and sat, waiting to hear what Cemil’s brother had to
say.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude. That wolf and
vampire were both part of a conspiracy to attack me. Your man,
Stephen, he’s been working with the Paranormal Syndicate—sort of
our government, I guess—to find information about the various
factions out there that want me dead.”

“I didn’t do anything, though.”

“Stephen was being double-teamed, Romy. The vampire
is quite strong, and he was hungry. Normally neither he nor the
wolf would be too much trouble for a shifter Stephen’s size, but
the two of them together in the tight quarters of the path could
have seriously hurt him. Your taking out the wolf gave Rekkus time
to get there. Well done, really.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help. Why did they want to
hurt Stephen?”

“Most likely to send a message that they knew who he
was and who he’s working for. I don’t believe they’ve had an
opportunity to relay that information to anyone else, but he and
his brothers are probably going to have to be very careful for a
while.”

“His brothers are part of this too? I thought they
were…”

“Yes, a writer and a photographer. Stephen is a
talented programmer too. But that’s all part of the cover. They
work for the Syndicate, and I don’t believe Stephen has been given
any reason to trust my family, but he’s helped us and we trust
him.”

“I’m really confused, Cyrus.” She heard her voice
breaking, felt her chin trembling. Even without tears, she was
capable of crying in front of this stranger.

“I know. And I don’t know if this will help with
your confusion at all, but you’ve done something truly
extraordinary for me. I’d like to do something to say thank you.
You may have gathered that my family is not exactly normal. Each of
my siblings is gifted in a rather unusual way—they call me a
retrocog. I see things, feelings, memories, information about the
owners of an object. It can be useful. It can be painful. I don’t
do it anymore, not usually. But if you wouldn’t consider it an
intrusion, I would like to hold one of your dance shoes for a
moment.”

“My dance shoes?”

“Yes, the ones you wore earlier, when you danced
with Stephen.”

She considered the request for a moment. All in all,
it was one of the more absurd things she’d heard this evening.
Let’s see: the cold man was a vampire. There are werewolves. And
here is this guy who claims that he can tell something about me
from touching my shoes?

What the hell. What did she have to lose?

“Okay.” She felt around on the table next to the
bed, found the shoes, and held them out. He took them very gently
and held them for just a moment before he pressed them back into
her hand. She heard a heavy sigh, then felt the soft pressure as he
squeezed her hand.

“That was lovely, Romy. The feelings when you danced
your last rehearsal for Giselle…It’s like you were flying. The
music, the emotions, the connection. It was beautiful.”

“I miss it so much.” She swallowed hard, not
trusting herself to say more.

“And when you were with Stephen, you felt something
very like that?”

She nodded.

“Did you know, Romy, for most of that rehearsal,
your eyes were closed?”

Her head shot up. Of course she closed her eyes
sometimes when she danced. She let the memories overtake her. It
had always been more intense when she closed her eyes, felt her way
through the steps. The music would feel clearer, brighter. It had
always been that way.

“Maybe you’ll never have what you had before. But it
seems a damned shame to not hold on to as much of it as you can, as
long as you can.”

“Thank you, Cyrus.” His words unlocked the
floodgates. No, she couldn’t shed tears, but she knew it was only a
matter of moments before great ugly sobs would wrack her body. “I’d
like to be alone now.”

“Of course.” She heard him stand and place the chair
back where it belonged. He crossed to the door, and then turned
back. “Romy…I don’t get to see beautiful things with my gift very
often. Thank you for the dance.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The door
closed, and she knew he was gone.

She reached for her iPod again, but the batteries
seemed to be dead. She didn’t have the energy to call for a bellhop
just to show her where to plug it in, so she tucked it back into
her suitcase and lay back on the bed.

In the dark and the silence without vision or music,
all she wanted was Stephen.

* * * *

Stephen paced his room alternately terrified and
angry.

He
loved
Romy.

When the knock came, he thought it would be Rekkus,
so he was surprised to see Cyrus standing there.

“Rekkus is still interrogating the vampire,” Cyrus
explained without a hello.

“Are you sure Cemil’s the only empath in the
family?”

“Like it takes an empath to read your thoughts? If
you want to hide your surprise, don’t stand there with your mouth
open.”

Stephen grinned then, opening the door wide to let
Cyrus inside. “It’s good to see you, Cyrus. And looking happy no
less.”

The dark-haired Rowan brother smiled back. “Your
little mate, she’s responsible for that. She’s really something,
Stephen.”

Jealousy worked through him, and he snarled, but
Cyrus held up a hand.

“Relax—I thought maybe I could help her, and I held
one of her shoes. I think it helped me more than it helped her, to
be honest. So, are you going to forge the bond or what?”

“I don’t see how that’s your business, Cyrus.”

“True enough,” the other man agreed. “We’re pretty
sure that the vamp and wolf have not had an opportunity to get any
information off the island. Your cover is probably not blown. But
just in case, you should be a little extra careful for a few
months, okay? Maybe stick close to home.”

“Okay. And what about the two that attacked me?
What’s going on with them?”

“They’re the Syndicate’s problem now. They won’t
bother you again.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank
you
, Stephen. I know how you feel
about your brothers. I know you put your family at risk to guard
mine, and I don’t blame you for any resentment you might feel.
Believe me, you will never lack for friends at the Wiccan Haus.”
Cyrus turned to leave, then: “Do you want to see her?”

“Yes.” Of course. Being away from her made him ache
in the worst of ways.

“Come on.”

Stephen followed Cyrus to the elevator. “Where are
we going?”

“You missed your yoga class.”

When they arrived in the lobby, he said goodbye to
Cyrus and made his way to the yoga studio. The class he and Romy
had missed was long over, and the studio would normally be deserted
this time of night. He wasn’t surprised to see Romy there, her foot
balanced on the stereo cabinet, stretching.

“Hi,” he said. Her head snapped up.

“Stephen?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before.” He came
to stand behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Her head
lolled back against his chest as she set her foot on the floor and
turned to face him.

“I understand why you didn’t.” She laid her head
over his heart. “But, Stephen, my whole world has turned upside
down in the last two hours.”

“I know. I thought maybe I could tell you now, a
little bit. And then tomorrow, we can talk again.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“I was born like this. My people, we’re a species
that’s part human, and also part bear. I can shift whenever I want,
but most of the time, I stay in my human form.”

“That’s why you live so far out in the middle of
nowhere?”

“Yes, that’s part of it. The proximity to the Wiccan
Haus is part of it too. My brothers and I, we’re kind of like
informants for the Syndicate. We watch and listen, and pass
information on to Rekkus and Cyrus.”

“Why does someone want to kill him?”

“It’s not personal. There’s a pretty huge bounty on
his head, so lots of people want to kill him. Or use him. Because
of his gift.”

“Oh.” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth as she
mulled it over. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and do the
same.

“There’s more, Romy, about me.”

“Okay.” She nodded again. “Might as well tell me
now.”

“My people…”

“Canadians?” she teased, a little smile curling her
lips up.

“Shifters,” he corrected, smiling back even though
he knew she couldn’t see it. “When we mate with someone, it’s for
life. A joining of the souls.”

“You mean, when we had sex? You did something to my
soul?” He could see the panic in her face, rushed to reassure
her.

“No! God, no, I would never…” He shook his head,
realized she couldn’t see it, pressed her hands to his lips before
he spoke again. “I would never, ever force that on you. I love you,
Romy. You’re my destined mate. But I want you to choose me.”

“Love me? No. You can’t love me.”

“You said once that dancers who perform together
form intense relationships. Sometimes for an evening, sometimes for
life? Is it really hard to believe that bears might do the
same?”

She appeared to mull over his words, her eyebrows
drawing together.

“What does that mean, destined mate?”

“If you agree to mate with me, we’ll be married in
the eyes of my people. And I’m selfish enough that I’d want to be
married in the eyes of your people too. So I guess we’d do the
whole white dress and tuxedo thing, if that’s what you want.”

“You’re asking me to marry you?” She pushed at his
chest, and he caught her hands to his lips again, pressing a kiss
to her knuckles.

“Yes. Marry me, join your soul to mine, live the
rest of our lives making each other crazy and happy.”

“You’ve known me less than a week—you
don’t
know me really.” This time, when she pushed at his chest, he let
her go.

“I knew you the moment we met, Romy. The first time
I smelled you. The first time I touched you. The first time I
kissed you. Has it honestly ever been like this for you with anyone
else?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, it hasn’t. But,
Stephen, I’m blind.”

“So what? I’m not pretty enough for you?” He
couldn’t help but tease her, and was glad to see her smile
again.

“Don’t you want to be with someone who’s
perfect?”

“You. You are perfect for me.”

“I need to think,” she said.

Her rejection caused a pang in his chest, but he’d
known she would need time to think about it. Walking away would be
the hardest thing he’d ever done, but for her, he would do it.

“Okay.” He sighed, burying his hands in his hair as
he studied the emotions flying around on her face.

“Come here.” She reached for him.

One step and he was in her arms and his lips were on
hers. He poured all his love and all his desire into that kiss and
felt her answer in the stroke of her tongue against his, the press
of her body. She might not know it yet, but her soul was seeking
its mate. He pulled away.

“Until tomorrow, Romy. I love you.” He kissed her
forehead, then one last lush swipe across her lips. “I love you.
Marry me. Be my mate.”

“Go on, then, before I jump you again.” She smiled
half-heartedly, shooing him out the door.

Romy spent half the night in the studio, stretching
and dancing until her body was exhausted, and still she didn’t
sleep well that night. Between the attack on the path, the
conversation with Cyrus, and Stephen’s stunning proposal, her world
was coming unglued. When the dull light of the predawn morning fell
on her closed eyelids, she closed them more tightly, for once not
wishing she’d open them to discover the last two months had been a
nightmare.

Because then I wouldn’t have met Stephen.

Just the thought of him stirred her up inside, made
her ache with a longing to be close to him. He thought of her as
his mate. He wanted to marry her.

In that moment when she lay in her bed with her eyes
closed tightly against the onslaught of the day, she realized she
wanted him more than she wanted to go back in time. More than she
wanted to see. More than she wanted to dance.

Her feet hit the floor before her eyes opened.